Thatโs it. I found myself thinking again. And I know thatโs common because thinking is natural, but not naturally intuitive. Thinking about how things are, when they already exist, is something different. Thinking about how I can become less of a thinker of everything I know. And what I know now confuses me. Confuses me in a way that makes feelings feel like a form of oppression on my personal life.
I canโt think about how things are because Iโll drown in my thoughts throughout the night. Iโve felt in so many deep ways that my own brain doesnโt know what not to think about. I miss, yes, but Iโve testified what I miss. My misses had one body, and this specific body tends to justify my existence. It was so hard to believe that I could stop thinking about her that I donโt even know what hard actually feels like.
Thinking about the girl and living in a world of pain that I also created. Both of these excruciating feelings make me think that thinking about her is just another night inside a body that canโt even be adjusted. My favorite time of the day was the night when her mouth shut down my thoughts. Iโm seeing the causes and consequences of this existence that was only mine now; everywhere I go. I think about existence only when the confusion that exists mixed between my own wishes.
And if you ask me what I wish right now? Youโre already aware of this by now.
The confusion arises from my understanding that Iโm writing about someone so intensely that everyone who reads me can sense it telepathically.
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