When people gimme the ole “why are you so quiet?” what I need to start saying is “because my head is so loud”

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When people gimme the ole “why are you so quiet?” what I need to start saying is “because my head is so loud”
this noise is so loud in this head of mine i cant think clearly there are things on how running helps with this and how once you start running youre actually able to think CLEARLY for once im not your typical runner but this noise all this fucking noise just makes me want to run theres a bridge that leads to a beautiful place i know of it would take me away away has always been the place i want to be and i dont care what it looks like me theres me and theres places where people do not go and i would go to those places i would leap over fences and crawl through the mud elsewhere in the world masses are being performed and stock is being taken of the glories and regrets of life but all of it means nothing to me because then i run my sore legs ache with the same splendid vigor i relish the soreness as i do with my pair of burning lungs and it is all a beautiful outrage
i had started to run in order to escape from everything but then i was running to put things behind me and to seek this new lovely emptiness and then i ran to outpace the nagging of my foggy and ticklish brain and before i knew it, i was just running
Why can't I just sleep?
Parents visited, mind is now mush.
restless. hmf