I imagine the world as a sea of floating orbs
Connecting to all those souls and forming bonds is what makes me feel alive
I don’t get joy from owning fancy things.
Yes, I own some nice things
The act of writing my eternal passage of thoughts down in itself
Speaks to the weight upon which I value my thoughts.
I think I am extremely self-aware
But I see this as a good thing
To be self-aware is to actually see yourself and other people,
To see the bigger picture of your interactions
I want to spread that.
I am beginning to wonder if this is a good idea.
Should I not refrain from seeing the world so vividly?
It is really hurting my heart to think this much.
But as much as I try, there is no switch.
A long battle I will eventually lose.
It will always outlive me.
My anxiety feels impossible to overcome.
Even now my heart races and my thoughts pound.
I fear I will always be like this,
And it’s exhausting.
Dear god sometimes I wish I was ignorant
I really had to chance this thought
Because ignorance is bliss
To be accountable but unaware.
I wish I was unaware sometimes.
That is my anxiety. I cannot escape my thoughts.
This is a way for me to explore those thoughts by myself,
To reach my own conclusion
And then to share that with people that know me or care to.
I am always writing to someone I know,
My thoughts are always thinking about someone I know or imagine to read this.
I simply want to be open and share my openness,
To show people it’s okay to feel.
Feeling is what makes me feel alive,
Society tells us not to feel.
Society is wrong,
No political party can fix this
I acknowledge the assumed naivety in my thought process,
I’m fully aware of the endless hoops to jump through before real, substantial change occurs.
But I still believe it.