And I’ve seen my thoughts rubbing off often before coursing to paper. There’s a buzz going on there always. And I’ve been meaning to operate it only with some kind words I manage to spit.
The rush here is heavy. There’s an overload of information misinformation, panic, anxiety, awkwardly drawn-out possibilities and some consequences.
My whereabouts have been my unsolicited concern. Sometimes I need to just think to not think about the thoughts I blatantly tame for my compulsive manipulation which I constantly regret giving into. But near about some good times, I remember being able to laugh more often.
I still ain’t thinking about what I just portrayed through this 1000th attempt of spilling something from the drafts and still failing. Well never mind. Just kinda felt safe here. Healing for the better.
Well, not making sense is the new norm.
How plunging the norm goes written by Fahima Nahid.