Not only can I not think straight, I can’t think curled, jagged or horizontally.
I can’t think long enough to make sense of what i’m thinking and i can’t think hard enough to make sense of why i’m even thinking it in the first place.
My head is just a whirlpool that resists both stagnation and motion.
When I feel too comfortable, I can’t breath.
When it’s not comfortable enough, I can’t breath.
When I want to stop thinking, I can’t stop and even when i do, i’m thinking about how soon it will re-start.
I seek clarity everywhere and nowhere.
I find clarity everywhere and nowhere.
I don’t like the fact i’m being constructed while i’m still making sense of it all.
I cannot understand something that hasn’t even taken its form yet.
But, If i don’t try to understand my being, i feel as though i’m withering.
I’m caught between trying to understand my thoughts while they are still processing and losing all of myself by not thinking at all.
If I stand still long enough, it starts to make sense.
But, then it almost feels too easy to be true and i go back to doubting my sanity again.
If i don’t stand still; i’m fleeting and fragmented.
I want to feel whole without feeling empty. And i don’t want to feel empty as long as I am not whole because I have no clue as to how long it will take me to feel whole, or if it ever will happen.
Being is exhausting and exhilarating.
I want to think and not think at the same time.
My thoughts are everything and nothing.
I want to be, but just the process of being makes it harder to be.