my therapist dalton will say shit like, “how are you feeling?”
and so i’ll say, “like oatmeal that’s been forgotten in the microwave for four hours” or “an achromatic kaleidoscope” or “like a hamster wheel without the hamster” or “like a whirlybird falling from the top of a tree” or “like a baby animal with spindly legs going viral on the internet because people think me looking stupid while learning to walk is hilarious” or “like someone is watching me walk downhill” or “like ikea furniture that didn’t come with instructions” or “like the ambiguous blue liquid being absorbed by a paper towel in a commercial” or “like the human equivalent of ¯\_(ツ)_/¯” or “like the sound a wet trout makes when smacked against a wall”
and then he’ll say some shit like “berklie we’ve been over this. you have to say how you feel not what you feel like.”
and then i’ll say something like, “i dunno. just like the way waluigi says ‘wah.’”
and then he’ll say some shit like, “berklie for the love of god you have got to give me an emotion and not a metaphor.”
and then i’ll have to say something like, “fine. i guess i feel bored. or listless. or apathetic, but only in regards to myself.”
and then he’ll say some shit like, “berklie, that’s depression.”
and then i’ll say, “how was i supposed to know?”
only i’m sisyphus and my emotions are a boulder and once a week a man who has an extensive knowledge of mules gees and haws me until i manage to drag out the government name of an emotion from somewhere.