feelin' kinda prickly

I never really understand the moods incorporated in being human. They seem so tangled and convoluted, each stemming from the other in some haphazard chaotic emotional landscape. Psychology (excuse me for saying this) seems to add more confusion to the mix. Raised on the manna of Freud and his offspring, we delve into the alleyways of the mind, tracing the trail of emotion in search of it's origin. And yet, the pursuit seldom yields peace. In fact, the search itself assures the tangled landscape, stemming from a desire to be rid of the offending emotion. I wonder if it there could be a simpler, albeit more daunting solution. I wonder if we could befriend the prickles, the edges, the tangles and soften toward them. Could we breathe in our own sticky, bitchy, edgy, embarrassing, emotionally messy self, in spite of the fact that she gets us in trouble and threatens our almighty self-image. I have a feeling that, as terrifying as it sounds, our simple acceptance will do far more than all the psychobabble in the world toward unraveling the tangled mess. And yet, I sit, amidst my own emotional rubble, beset by the storm of perception and ache for escape.
Breathe in, breathe out, breathe...