the act of overthinking. i used to be so terrified of it—what it did—leading to the point of confusion, an overwhelming pool of unexplained emotions, and sometimes even the helpless psychological need for air. so afraid of the lack of control, they call it “a case of anxiety,” like it’s a bad thing. a distraction from reality.
what is reality?
cogito, ergo sum?
i recognize my existence in this world, within the physical space that surrounds me. yet it’s the external life of this sleeve that distracts me from my thoughts!? my reality?!?
thinking is the state of mind that allows me to see true. it’s when i feel most like myself, a solitary space of candor where i can freely converse with the inner depths of being. the physical inability to move is a tangible reaction caused by the overwhelming cognitive dissonance experienced in this borrowed sleeve, the external.
and i’ve learned to accept this truth, the actuality of life’s inexorable contradictions and hypocrisies and conceits and hurting. life wouldn’t be what it is without them.
amor fati. love of fate.