Exploring Emotions

 Exploring Emotions
Over the past several days I’ve been consolidating my posts from multiple flash drives onto one with a larger memory capacity. My computer repairman suggested that I do it. He told me that if anything happened to cause one of them to crash, I would have a back-up. It would be a shame if I lost all of that data. I bought a flash drive with a much larger capacity and have slowly been transferring my stories. I just looked and I have nearly 2,500 posts as well as poetry, stories, and even some random thoughts that I’ve saved.
When I open each title or read the first line or two, memories come flooding back. It’s somewhat like driving in a hailstorm and emotional pieces of sleet bounce off my memory’s windshield. Thoughts of sadness…click, thoughts of joy…click, emotions of love…click, emotions of death…click; they appear then they‘re gone swiped away with wipers and I’m on to the next moment. There were tales of holidays and celebrations and some are amusing and funny anecdotes. It’s like sampling at a smorgasbord.
Interspaced are the ups and downs that mimick feelings of riding on a roller coaster. I felt the highs as it climbed and crested the top before the stomach turning feelings of the plunge into the next valley. Doors and windows into my past opened and shut rapidly, almost dizzyingly. Somettimes it felt like a mental battering ram or an assault on my thought tower.
The winds of those memories sometimes flow like a stream and would rush in like a flood. Some stories srormed at me with strength or they would refresh me like a soft breeze. In the collection, I was able to shake hands with dogs from my past. I was opened albums of faces that appeared and disappeared like the tricks of a magician. I was surprised with what I found like him pulling a rabbit out of his hat.
An orchestra of remembrances sounded softly or grew in strength or sometimes thoughts would clash. It’s an emotional grocery list of my life. The saddest part is that so far I have only slogged halfway through the stories. I wonder what I will shake from the tree next.