General

The greatest thing about me, my emotional warmth, isn't a flaw... it's a floor. It's the bedrock of who I am, of the person I was born to be. I'm soft, I'm vulnerable, I wear my heart for all to see... and it takes strength to do that... so, I'm a hero; I'm a champion of those who love as I do.

By Angela Abraham (daisy), July 17, 2018.
General

There is a danger in sealing up us emotional types - in the shortness of temper that comes when we cry. There is a cruelty to taking our emotions as a type of rudeness, something "well mannered folks would hide". There is a cost in burying such pain in our bones rather than expressing it freely, one that brings on a loneliness of the soul. Yet with understanding and patience comes healing, a return to real joy, true happiness born in soulful connections. It is then we emotional types become a blessing to others, creating empathic connections with ease, becoming healers and helpers. For that is our purpose, to see what others do not because we feel so deeply. So be our heroes, help us to survive this cold world, and we will become your rescuers - shining true warmth into every heart, breathing peace and compassion into this ailing world.

By Angela Abraham (daisy), December 11, 2016.
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For so long I thought you made me feel a certain way; if I was sad, or lonely, or frustrated, I became angry with you. But why you? Why not someone else? I guess it's because you are the one I love the most, the one I feel most loved by. Was I angry you couldn't kiss away my pain? That you were't able to heal me with just words and kind eyes? Maybe.

It isn't right though; I want to treat you the way you deserve... with the same love and patience you showed me. So I am learning how to walk with stronger legs, feet in boots of iron. My emotions still come in brutal waves, pain felt in full measure, yet I know they are only within my own mind. I have learned to keep on walking regardless, act like they aren't even there... and soon they aren't. Then I come back to you with a smile and see that you are just the same as before, constant and gentle. Please know I'm healing, gaining control, finding my stable core, learning to love who I am... driving these deep emotions into my passion for life, for helping others, for loving you. You have been my anchor, perhaps next I will be yours, yet one day we will simply be birds on eternal summer winds.

By Angela Abraham (daisy), December 8, 2016.
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Baby, let the tears flow. In those salty trickles is who you are - one who feels. You aren't cold like a machine who runs on logic alone, who wants only what it is sensible for themselves. You have emotions so divine I want to scoop you up in my arms and keep you safe for all time. In a world of hurt it is human to cry, yet always let the joy in whenever you can. There is love here too, so much love. So let me see those eyes that swim with tears, for they shine with life and the knowledge of who you truly are.

By Angela Abraham (daisy), September 22, 2015.
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Crying is how I understand myself best. When I cry I know who I really am. I cry when others hurt as well as myself. I cry at the brutal world news and stupid soft movies. It's my strength and my weakness. Strong because it brings understanding and weak because who wants the listener to weep when they are looking for a strong shoulder? I wish I could turn my tears off, I do. Or perhaps just save it until I'm alone, but I'm not wired like that. My emotions swirl like ocean currents, deep and strong. Sometimes I'm scared to dive in incase I don't make it out again, but I can't be anyone else, I don't suppose any of us can.

By Angela Abraham (daisy), February 10, 2015.
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Emotions come to my mind like the waves meeting the land. I can stand here on the beach, eyes gazing out to the water but my feet can't help but get wet. They come to me, soak my entire being and help me to understand my entire self better. Just like the land and ocean are one world, my emotions are just another part of myself, another form of intelligence to embrace, another way to learn.

By Angela Abraham (daisy), September 22, 2015.
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To cry at sadness is strength, strength to see and engage with what is truly being seen and felt. To feel deep emotion is an open door, one ready to let any wanderer meet you as you truly are. To be happy is to feel the goodness that still lives on in the world, to share a spark of love and let it inside. To be angry is to know you are wounded, though the cause is rarely obvious. Emotions are what make us human, to be an emotional person thus is to embrace your humanity. They are the blessings of being part of the natural world, blessings with so much to teach the open heart and mind.

By Angela Abraham (daisy), September 22, 2015.
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Tommy cried at the news so much we began to find excuses not to watch. It was as if he was hardwired to the pains of the people he saw. Even at twenty he had no more immunity to the horror than he would have at two or three. Some said he was childish, but I could never see it that way. To me it was a wisdom that had the strength to stay no matter what.

By Angela Abraham (daisy), September 22, 2015.
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There is more wisdom in the emotions of a young child than in all the tomes in all the libraries of the world. We should cherish that beauty that wants others to be safe and well. Though it's true that the young can be selfish, they react how we all should when they learn another is hungry or hurt. That's how Anna always was; from birth onwards she was a pure spark of a child, always feeling for others as strongly as if she were their mother. With so much love inside of her, how could I not love her too? How could I not trust one with so much inner beauty?

By Angela Abraham (daisy), September 22, 2015.
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There are times the emotions in David are so high I can feel them leap from him right into my eyes. It's like they are sparks ready to fly and I am his ground. It's as if the usual scales of human emotion just don't apply to him. It can't be easy to be in that mind, to live in it, feel it. Yet I can learn so much from him; I can love him; I can help him on his journey through life as he feels every raindrop and bite of winter wind. I can lead him to the sunshine, show him new spring growth and nesting birds - prove to him that there is still enough warmth for his beating heart.

By Angela Abraham (daisy), September 22, 2015.
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Sometimes joy and sadness get all mixed up, sometimes I think it's supposed to be that way. If joy for myself means hurt for another, how can it be different? If I gain and you lose of course my emotions are mixed. I love competition, but only when the stakes aren't so high, only when there is enough for all to be happy. Greg tells me to toughen up, grow up, as if I'm a baby. I'm not. I'm an emotional person and I can't choose not to be. Maybe if I saw enough horror or lived somewhere my survival was really in the balance every day I'd have to. I don't know. But in that tangle of emotion there is a path I must walk, yet like a ball of yarn, the thread must be pulled soft and slow.

By Angela Abraham (daisy), September 22, 2015.
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“Emotional connections, like love, are lifelong, or at least they are for me. They are the glue that holds our lives together. The only real thing in this world is love and we find it in these invisible ties. She was part of your life and so, in a way, she always will be. Love stretches over time and space as if it isn't really there at all. It just does.”

By Angela Abraham (daisy), February 25, 2016.
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"Gina, you say I have cool emotions yet yours are hot. You parade your pains of eight years long as if they are fresh, even on the very day I break. You are mistaken. My feelings are so deep that they must stay below the surface like ocean currents. I simply don't parade them like you do, don't act out in such an infantile way. Don't belittle what I feel. Don't take my pain as an opportunity to make yourself look better, to stand on my heart even as you pretend to lend a hand."

By Angela Abraham (daisy), March 13, 2016.
General

Never once did she cry in front of people. To them, she was calm, collected, stoic. She held her head high and smiled in the face of everyone.
Yet as soon as she was alone, the mask dropped and tears fell.
It was often for little reason; even the memory of the smallest thing would send her into a bout of heaving sobs, tears wetting her pillow long into the night.

By lazynerd, September 8, 2016.