Bottled emotions for sale


If you could buy emotions, what would you buy?

Happiness, maybe? Pride? Love?

Think about it. Really think about it. If you could buy any emotion, what would you buy?

Inspiration, maybe? Creativity? Empathy?

If you were able to buy bottled emotions, which one would you run to first? Which one would you fight for, live for, breathe for? If every emotion in existence was neatly packaged and stacked on a shelf, sitting patiently and ready to be felt, which one would you desperately tear open the packaging for?

What if those emotions were from the people in your life? Who would you feel from? Who would you take from?

Would you bottle up the most positive person’s sunshine, fervently filling the glass bottle with radiance and warmth for those days when you’re lacking luster? Or would you catch compassion cascading out of the most empathetic person you know? Their sympathetic words would bounce into the bottle as you maniacally maneuvered the glass to catch them, fearful that any missed word would lessen the empathy.

It would be a game, almost. A game to see how much sunshine you could summon, how much compassion you could catch, how many emotions you could experience.

How many emotions can I acquire in one day? You ask yourself as your bag bursts at the seams with bottle after bottle, each one heavy with emotion.

How many people can I embody at one time? You ask yourself as you hear the satisfying pop of the corks unleash the feelings from your never-ending supply of bottles. The pop is magnified in the hollow, uninhabited room you store your bottles of feeling in.

The feelings and emotion are limitless, but you are still numb. You are filled with feelings, yet hollow.

Which emotion do I need today? You ask yourself as you sift through your supply. You pass the bright, blinding bottle of happiness. It’s shimmer readily replaces what you can’t produce on certain days. The light inside the bottle restores what was lost in your eyes, in your soul. Your lethargic finger pauses on the happiness bottle. Not today, you say. You have enough from the last unleash.

The words in the empathy bottle are bouncing buoyantly; the energy of the compassion is slowly loosening the cork. I don’t need empathy today, you robotically recite as you tighten the cork, suppress the feeling, and continue on.

You eye the bottle of creativity; it’s intricate designs and unique color draw your attention to it immediately. Do I need creativity today? You ask as you study the bottle. Was this my own feeling bottled, or did I take this from someone else? You run through a mental list of the most creative people in your life. Would they let you steal a sliver of their individuality?

You continue on.

Your defeated, exhausted fingers pass over the final bottle in your collection. The burden of a thousand emotions takes a toll on your soul and your mind. They haven’t been unleashed yet, but it’s their very presence that is so heavy. The feelings you stole, the emotion you bottled, the weight of what’s not your own is crushing.

You almost missed the last bottle because it’s the smallest one, concealed from the rest. The happiness bottle is brighter than this one. The empathy bottle is heavier, denser. The creativity bottle is, well, more creative than this one. This bottle is simple. You appreciate the simplicity and pick the bottle up, eager to see which one it is. There are so many bottles that it’s easy to lose track of them.

As soon as you pick it up, you realize that it is the bottle of contentment. It’s filled with the moments when you and others felt most at peace. You laugh as you recall the times where you unscrewed the cap of the bottle and tried to catch contentment. You eye the abundance of feelings and emotions standing before you, each one stolen from someone else.

You decide to feel content today.

You unscrew the cap of the bottle and unleash peace and satisfaction. You let the contentment flood your body and screw the cap back on. You delicately return the bottle that gave you emotion for the day and exit the empty room filled with feeling.