• Anatomy of a Restless Mind•

Second thoughts. And the third. And the fourth. And the zillionth.

Second thoughts about decisions, about what to have for lunch. About the glance that guy in the train gave me. About the word to use next. About the dress I bought a millennium ago. About the last break up. About the first. About the haircut I had last week. About my achievements. About my conscience. About the lies and the truths and the concocted stories. About the proposal I had planned in my dreams. About the nature of days; halcyon days, unsettling days, ‘met-a-new-person’ days, lonesome days, weeping days or life-altering days.

The clock goes tick, tick, tick. My mind doesn’t seem to keep pace with the dubious nature of my thoughts, the frustrating , exhausting and taxing eccentricity of my mind.

Questions- one, two, three, hundred. Self-constructed questions. About the self, the oblivion, the already existing, the erratic, the constant. About the universe, the boy with the blessedly pure heart, the parents with the unflinching goodness, the colour of my eyes, the construction of buildings, the mushroom growth of population.

It’s stifling- the multiplication of things with no real purpose.

The over-hyping of the ordinary.

The self-imposed expectations.

The goddamned second thoughts.

Did I swear right now?

How could I do that?

I’m trash.

I’m insufficient.

I’m not enough. ‘Who decides what is enough?’ I don’t know. I have never known. I’ll never know. ‘Why do you never know anything?’ My mind goes shut as I scroll, scroll and scroll through my Instagram feed. I blink, blink and blink as I try to remove the carping spirit in me.

My mind overthinks and I often wonder who is the real enemy?

Second thoughts. And the third. And the fourth. And the zillionth.

A pool of tears and and a clock that goes tick, tick, tick.

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4 thoughts on “• Anatomy of a Restless Mind•

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