and you weren't lying when you said it would sting.

"I wake up scared and I'm scared all day. I'm scared of being scared. Scared of "losing it". Scared of not being able to function. Scared of being hospitalized. Scared that I am not okay. Scared of what life is and if I was wasting mine. Scared that I have no home - that even a place I call home has no bottom to it and I will just keep falling under and under and under."

- Melissa Broder.

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When we listen, what exactly do we listen to?

Perhaps the sound of the person's voice — the intonation, the volume, the level of excitement, the stutters, and all other inaudible sounds. That's all just basics.

Perhaps the details of the person's speech — the language spoken, the words used, the words crafted into a sentence, the sentence as a whole, the series of sentences, the literal content of the speech, the precise details of the speech, the innuendos accompanying the speech, and all others that's unspoken. That's all just trying to have a purpose of conversation, creating judgments of the content, and simply knowing what to reply to avoid a one-sided conversation.

Listening is so cumbersome. It is no wonder nobody likes to listen, and I wonder why I enjoy it so much.




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Keep on dreaming.
Don't stop breathing.
Fight those demons.
Sell your soul, not your whole self.


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When we talk, what exactly do we talk about?

Perhaps what we have heard or read about — the things we have chosen to place our attention on and remember, the things we have chosen to block out to make space for other things we feel are more important, the recent phone call, the conversations through text messages, the latest gossip, the latest news, the politics, the textbooks, the television, and all platforms of information sharing. Probably they would all end up being all politically correct, or at least presented in a snack wrapper full of tact.

Perhaps what we have thought about or are thinking about — the things we are reminded of, the things we would like to share, the things we find interesting, the philosophies we ponder about, the ideas we come up with, the things we find funny, the things we can't get out of our head, the things that are troubling us, the things that we are making us happy, and this could be anything at all. Probably thinking harder into that could uncover the gaps, the cracks, and the unopened chests of the unlocked mind.

Talking is more attractive. It is no wonder that if we could, we would play with words all day.

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When I wake up, I'm afraid.
somebody else might take my place.
When I wake up, I'm afraid.
Somebody else might end up being me.

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When we think, what exactly do we think about?

Perhaps what we have listened to, heard or read, thought or are thinking about — simply put, it's everything mentioned about and more, and all that jumbled up in a mess.

Perhaps what we do — our daily activities, our planned outings, and every single thing that is outright literal and physical with the outright struggle to place the plank over the sea of desires onto the land of unconditional.

Thinking is confusing. It is no wonder why we can think all day long, and there is no end to it. We don't think hard enough.

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Being me can only mean feeling scared to breathe.
If you leave me then I'll be afraid of everything
that makes me anxious, gives me patience, calms me down,
lets me face this, lets me sleep.

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Cut the formalities, the questions don't ever stop looping around and just wrap that perpetual need to ask questions inside a bubble of curiosity. Right after, wait. Just, wait. Learn about patience, and wait for that bubble to popped.




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And when I wake up
let me be.


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Repetition Compulsion.

die Verleugnung
egal wie
niemals
geht weg
ich habe
vaterprobleme

wie kann ich aufhören
bevor es zu spät ist.

Repetition. Compulsion.

-----------------

M.

don't take this the wrong way.
you put me in harm's way.