Well damn these thoughts and damn my wandering mind that never stops moving, never stops dreaming, never stops stressing me to the point of breakage, to the point of a racing heart, sweaty palms, hot face, uncomfortable limbs. Damn how it never takes a break, how even in sleep I cannot escape it and it furrows my brows in dreams of images I’d rather have pushed in the back of my mind. Damn dwelling. Fuck things that worry us and fuck everything that doesn’t make us the happiest we can be. Because life is fucking short and we only have today because yesterday is never coming back and tomorrow may never come. So why must my mind drag me down as I scratch at the floor and at my face and as I scratch away the thoughts that flutter through my mind and behind my eyes like a swarm of stinging bees? Flick them away, but they’ll come sting you. Leave them alone and they’ll sit and you’ll stare and there’s always the possibility that the stinger could sink into you. And it’s not just one bee that you can terminate. Once one has gone to rest, the rest are trying to build a hive and are noisily crowding every crevice of your thoughts.

But then why don’t I stop dwelling on the noise that these bees are making and try to think of the possibility of the sweet honey that could be in this hive? Why can’t I accept the fact that maybe this swarm won’t die away any time soon? Just let the buzz become a backdrop to the various songs that try to swim through the restless bees.

So fuck emotions. Fuck this over-thinking, because these negative thoughts are going to expand the more you give them attention. And it’s so easy to say that the only thoughts that are going to do well to dwell on are the positive ones and it’s so easy to say that the negative thoughts don’t matter and they won’t become apparent if you just ignore them but they overcome and they never cease and even when you think they may have been pushed away, they start to creep back.

I’m back and forth and I’m side to side and I can’t keep the scales steady and I can’t make up my mind and I can’t stop thinking about possibilities and I can’t stop daydreaming and I can’t stop focusing on him and I can’t stop reminiscing on what already happened and I can’t stop thinking about the millions of ways the future can turn out.

But who even cares? Because it takes time to try to change your entire mindset from the black hole of chaos into a vast green field of wildflowers and butterflies so why even waste that time? My mind is a mess. But sometimes the bees and the daydreaming and the dwelling bring me happiness. Sometimes they keep me from priorities. Sometimes they make me insane but sometimes they inspire me and bring me to a level of peace that serene fucking butterflies could never do.

So I’ll over-think. But I’ll write. And I’ll dwell. But I’ll walk. And I’ll daydream. But I’ll make sure the scenery outside of the window I’ll gaze out of is beautiful. And I’ll think of things I don’t have but then I’ll also think of things that I do have.

Because my mind is a mess. But where there is chaos, there is order. And damn it, there is beauty. And in that, I am positive.