I'm half-heartedly trying to get back into the hang of things. Unsuccessfully, of course, but it's still an attempt, nonetheless. Me, myself, & I are quite the buddies of mine, on this rainy day I spend at home.
I was sitting on the bus on the way home, watching my subdivision pass through the outside of the foggy window. All I could think about was my thoughts, my thoughts that conquered my entire day. I sat there, embarrassed, chewing on my sleeves, trying to forget about it all. People call me shy all the time, but my thoughts are the things that haunt my voice. I'm completely afraid that they burst out of my mouth, and into the ears of everyone else, for all to experience and hear. If every thought is heard, why even speak? I think I just really know what words mean. A feeling of nervousness and hotness spreads over my face when I even dare think of something less-than-widely-accepted- a self-pressure, almost. I don't say anything dumb, but feel dumb for not saying anything. It's a gift & a curse all at the same time.
Am I ashamed of my thoughts? A bit. Am I insane? Probably. I'll win over it one day.
Joe Brooks- I Find the Light in You
Mondays are the worst. They put them at the beginning of the week, so everyone can get over the bad days and end the week on a happy note.
Hopeful (like I should be),
Mack.
2 comments:
Aw, yes, thoughts. Consciousness is a terrible, terrible curse. And a blessing. But most just a curse.
i feel the exact same way; you're not alone. but i will say this: you're an amazing person, and a great writer. <3
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