I tell myself to think. I scream to my mind in an attempt to stimulate it somehow. Yet silence and numbness are my companions throughout the day. I stare at blankness and emptiness. There is a gaping void in my life, a black hole, that swallows up any hint of emotion or creativity or passion. It causes me to feel nothing. Upon further observation, I realize that I do think, but I think of nothing.
thought is a strange process, is it external or internal? Is thought of you, or something that derives from a higher power. This opens the questions of free will wide open.
My brain pulsed, and jerked with desire. The pages of books fanned in front of me, blowing a sweet wind of knowledge over my face. My thirst was insatiable. My quest, without end. All the knowledge in the world would be mine. Then with it. All the power.
I wonder how many pieces of things I’ve included the phrase “I think” in. I wonder how often I actually do what I say and think things through, instead of just using it for prose. I wonder how often anyone thinks things through before they do anything about what they’re thinking about in the first place.
And here I am wondering about thinking, instead of actually going through what I said I wondered about.
It’s not you.
I can’t read minds.
How was I supposed to know this would happen?
That you would spiral down into such a deep pit that I wouldn’t even be able to reach you.
Where did you go?
Why did you go?
Please…please don’t leave…
I over think way too much.
I’m told I’m a very down to earth person and sometimes that’s a compliment, this is true, but other times it seems like a searing knife is being pushed into my gut.
I like being down to earth.
I just wish I didn’t always have to be.
Where’s the fun in that?
Thinking too hard is one thing I’ve always had a problem with, pink or blue? here or there? then or now? I over analyze every little detail of everything causing myself lots of confusion and insecurity over everything. It also makes me extremely unsure of what I’m doing. I always, always, always second guess what I’m doing. Thinking causes me to see what I do wrong in everything, how I messed something up but I can’t ever see the positive.
She was very suddenly clutching his sleeve. His heart jumped to his throat.
“Don’t. God, please, I need you here for this.”
For a moment he could only helplessly look down at her and wish he could take the pain and indecision she was feeling and absorb it himself, just so she wouldn’t look so distraught. Then he gathered her up in the tightest hug he could give.
People need to actually think. We need to expand our knowledge and learn more than our past generations. But we’ve become so lazy as a race that we complain about a mere few hours at school. We, as americans, are far behind.
i think that the world should just get along. no worries of drama or anything to ruin a happy thought. we are too self absorbed and i think we need to stop and get back to nature. because thats all we really need in life is a simplistic view to come down and aprriciate more.
When you say “I’ll stop dancing on the shattered bones of baby birds” it meant nothing because you continue to dance on the shattered baby birds bones even now. Those are my baby bird bones you’re dancing on, I shattered them for you, we shattered them together, but they are my shattered baby bird bones and say no more dancing.
I think we think too much. There is too little action in this world. We can make promises, we can hope and plan but without any eventual action – belay that – immediate action, then nothing we envision will ever come about.
“homeostasis, that’s the answer”
the body was cold and limp and out of the game anyway, so who really cared.
it was numb and cold but so was outside, which was barren except with the trees that are stripped naked like women doing their second jobs, for good pay but no respect from their clients.
those motherfuckers.
Activation of neurotransmitters in the anterior cingulate cortex may send signals to the frontal regions leading to a build up of sentience in the temporal lobes. This will express as a sentence that loops in spirals, tangling in onto its own metatextual möbius strip of string theoretical self consciousness. The cure is coffee, rest or coffee.
thinking too much is something most of us are good at
if you aren’t speaking, you’re thinking
every minute every second
I wish there was a way to efficiently collect all my thoughts
I’d keep them in a jar and set them free when I am done with them
like butterflies they might land with someone else
and bring beauty to their day
Oh thought… Both a dear friend, and hated enemy. I never choose what side my thoughts may be on. They pick their own sides. The only choice I get is either think; or just dont.
The first great thinker of Avalon came up with a way to make rivers flow backwards. The second build a forest out of sunbeams. The third invented war to please Death.
Think about all of the things you have said to me, all of the sweet nothings that you have whispered in my ear as the light fades from the sky. Think about all of the ways you have touched me, caressed me, kissed me. Think about secrets told beneath sheets and longing looks shared from across a room. Think about how we began, how we continue, and the possibility that we might never have to end.
There’s no need to think, I’m on a high, nothing can stop me now. I’m red hot, and you’d better believe it. I have power now, and don’t you think I wont use it. I laugh at you, in a condescending mocking tone. You fools are so easy to toy with, and I’m having so much fun doing it. It’s only a little harmless fun, right? You think you can stop me, think again.
“How are you?” He said with a small warm smile. How are you; The gesture we all know, but the answer we will never be able to figure out. My mind traces down the long list of answers:
Sorrowed.
Depressed.
Not well.
Insane.
Lost.
Hopeless.
Empty.
Scared.
Worthless.
Saddened.
Meaningless.
Broken.
Little.
Alone.
Stressed.
Weak.
” Oh I’m fine.” Carried with a smile like his. But mine is just a beautiful lie covering the true disappointment. And i still think to myself how bizarre it is that i’m everything else. How it’s so easy to deceive everyone and even yourself. . And how everything else is hidden behind a fake smile and guilty conscious
The days are spent thinking about experience
Why did this happen what did it feel like
I like to think
Ive thought about it a lot
Sometimes I have dark thoughts
about my own thoughts
I wish i didn’t have thoughts that led to other thoughts I didn’t wish to have
The glass-encased Rose couldn’t do much to avoid her assailant; it was very persistent that all she could do is watch its sharp beak striking the case and wishing it wouldn’t break no matter how much it tries. Its raven-black feathers are calm and unmoving, despite the harsh winds brought about by the oncoming hurricane. Its eyes are dark and piercing, and yet strangely enough, it is unfeeling; emotionless. Very unnerving once you realize it isn’t an ordinary bird. In fact, it is not a bird at all. At least, not one Rose has ever seen before. Indeed it has the head of a large bird, but it has the body of a large cat, with a tail of a horse—it is a chimaera, and it is still trying to break the glass she’s in. She felt something pushing up her throat and coughed up. It was a red petal. Then another. Another. And then she noticed the thorns growing out of her fingers. Outside the glass encasement, the creature has been trying to warn Rose that it had the potion to reverse the metamorphosis, but it could not break through the glass for it was not only the thickest it has ever seen but it was also sound-proof. “It might be too late for me, but it isn’t quite for her. She must think I am insane, knocking through this glass.” says Evan. As Rose coughed up another red petal, her last image was of the creature still trying to break the thick glass between them.
i think but i don’t know.
i think i think too much but never resolve any of my thoughts.
i think i want to make a smart choice but i think i love self-sabotage.
i think i think but i can’t decide.
i think rather than feel.
I thought about it and i started writing. there was no going back and I really had no time to think about it. I just wrote and wrote. I continue in reckless abandon. When will the time be up?
As he sat there, in the darkness, drifting through realms of consciousness, it finally came to him~ all these voices he had been hearing were the prayers of the souls confused by the scale of the universe he had created. He paused for a moment, to think of his achievements… not bad for a drop out, but still just a trifle compared to some of the greater architects of his race.
Think less—write more. Be able to walk away from situations and sit down to have time dedicated to yourself. Pick up a pen, a pencil, a marker, or a crayon. Write with anything and just see what happens. If you stop and think too long then the naturalness is no longer possible. Less thinking leads to an openness in your mind. You are free to just make your mark on the pages below.
I think about the choices I made; they were horrible ones. Driving that car, abandoning the children… Why? I think. WHY? It is all utterly unfair. I do wish we had second chances, a choice to start over. Because if we did I would say yes. I need another life, a totally new one. Where people will recognize me with my talents and not a joke maker or one who messes up all the time.
When I stop to think, a lot of pain comes. Some happiness comes but it is mostly pain that comes whenever I think about the past or the future. When I think of now, I just feel tired a lot of the time. Sometimes, I wish I didn’t think as much as I do I wish I just felt. If I could feel instead of think, I’d be a happier person because I wouldn’t focus on the past or the future as much.
Think. Think. What a terrifying order. Sometimes I feel like I have nothing else to do, and then it starts to feel like a suicide mission. Think. Think. Keep thinking until it’s over.
If he would just shut up, maybe i could think.
Just a moment’s peace, and maybe i could get something done,
all the trucks and traffic, phones ringing and people asking inane questions.
A quiet moment would really do wonders.
think thought thunk thank. Thank yoou think you can you think are you who you think you are? thoughts threw thrust three think of those trees. Thunk tunk dank dunk think thunk shmoke dank dunk. Water trees freeze thought thank thunk tha – a – nank. Thank. Think.
i thought about everything, every single thing imaginable but it never worked all my thoughts were useless and i just couldn’t do it any more i couldn’t stand here and think about you again.
I tell myself to think. I scream to my mind in an attempt to stimulate it somehow. Yet silence and numbness are my companions throughout the day. I stare at blankness and emptiness. There is a gaping void in my life, a black hole, that swallows up any hint of emotion or creativity or passion. It causes me to feel nothing. Upon further observation, I realize that I do think, but I think of nothing.
thought is a strange process, is it external or internal? Is thought of you, or something that derives from a higher power. This opens the questions of free will wide open.
Everything told her not to. But she did. She always did.
With brows furrowed, I searched my mind for truths beyond the world around me.
My brain pulsed, and jerked with desire. The pages of books fanned in front of me, blowing a sweet wind of knowledge over my face. My thirst was insatiable. My quest, without end. All the knowledge in the world would be mine. Then with it. All the power.
All I had to do in the mean time was think.
I wonder how many pieces of things I’ve included the phrase “I think” in. I wonder how often I actually do what I say and think things through, instead of just using it for prose. I wonder how often anyone thinks things through before they do anything about what they’re thinking about in the first place.
And here I am wondering about thinking, instead of actually going through what I said I wondered about.
It’s not you.
I can’t read minds.
How was I supposed to know this would happen?
That you would spiral down into such a deep pit that I wouldn’t even be able to reach you.
Where did you go?
Why did you go?
Please…please don’t leave…
I over think way too much.
I’m told I’m a very down to earth person and sometimes that’s a compliment, this is true, but other times it seems like a searing knife is being pushed into my gut.
I like being down to earth.
I just wish I didn’t always have to be.
Where’s the fun in that?
Thinking too hard is one thing I’ve always had a problem with, pink or blue? here or there? then or now? I over analyze every little detail of everything causing myself lots of confusion and insecurity over everything. It also makes me extremely unsure of what I’m doing. I always, always, always second guess what I’m doing. Thinking causes me to see what I do wrong in everything, how I messed something up but I can’t ever see the positive.
“I don’t know what to think, Jonboy.”
He swallowed. “I could, um. I could go.”
She was very suddenly clutching his sleeve. His heart jumped to his throat.
“Don’t. God, please, I need you here for this.”
For a moment he could only helplessly look down at her and wish he could take the pain and indecision she was feeling and absorb it himself, just so she wouldn’t look so distraught. Then he gathered her up in the tightest hug he could give.
People need to actually think. We need to expand our knowledge and learn more than our past generations. But we’ve become so lazy as a race that we complain about a mere few hours at school. We, as americans, are far behind.
i think that the world should just get along. no worries of drama or anything to ruin a happy thought. we are too self absorbed and i think we need to stop and get back to nature. because thats all we really need in life is a simplistic view to come down and aprriciate more.
When you say “I’ll stop dancing on the shattered bones of baby birds” it meant nothing because you continue to dance on the shattered baby birds bones even now. Those are my baby bird bones you’re dancing on, I shattered them for you, we shattered them together, but they are my shattered baby bird bones and say no more dancing.
I think we think too much. There is too little action in this world. We can make promises, we can hope and plan but without any eventual action – belay that – immediate action, then nothing we envision will ever come about.
“homeostasis, that’s the answer”
the body was cold and limp and out of the game anyway, so who really cared.
it was numb and cold but so was outside, which was barren except with the trees that are stripped naked like women doing their second jobs, for good pay but no respect from their clients.
those motherfuckers.
Activation of neurotransmitters in the anterior cingulate cortex may send signals to the frontal regions leading to a build up of sentience in the temporal lobes. This will express as a sentence that loops in spirals, tangling in onto its own metatextual möbius strip of string theoretical self consciousness. The cure is coffee, rest or coffee.
thinking too much is something most of us are good at
if you aren’t speaking, you’re thinking
every minute every second
I wish there was a way to efficiently collect all my thoughts
I’d keep them in a jar and set them free when I am done with them
like butterflies they might land with someone else
and bring beauty to their day
Oh thought… Both a dear friend, and hated enemy. I never choose what side my thoughts may be on. They pick their own sides. The only choice I get is either think; or just dont.
The first great thinker of Avalon came up with a way to make rivers flow backwards. The second build a forest out of sunbeams. The third invented war to please Death.
Think about all of the things you have said to me, all of the sweet nothings that you have whispered in my ear as the light fades from the sky. Think about all of the ways you have touched me, caressed me, kissed me. Think about secrets told beneath sheets and longing looks shared from across a room. Think about how we began, how we continue, and the possibility that we might never have to end.
There’s no need to think, I’m on a high, nothing can stop me now. I’m red hot, and you’d better believe it. I have power now, and don’t you think I wont use it. I laugh at you, in a condescending mocking tone. You fools are so easy to toy with, and I’m having so much fun doing it. It’s only a little harmless fun, right? You think you can stop me, think again.
“How are you?” He said with a small warm smile. How are you; The gesture we all know, but the answer we will never be able to figure out. My mind traces down the long list of answers:
Sorrowed.
Depressed.
Not well.
Insane.
Lost.
Hopeless.
Empty.
Scared.
Worthless.
Saddened.
Meaningless.
Broken.
Little.
Alone.
Stressed.
Weak.
” Oh I’m fine.” Carried with a smile like his. But mine is just a beautiful lie covering the true disappointment. And i still think to myself how bizarre it is that i’m everything else. How it’s so easy to deceive everyone and even yourself. . And how everything else is hidden behind a fake smile and guilty conscious
Its all I do sometimes. I think
The days are spent thinking about experience
Why did this happen what did it feel like
I like to think
Ive thought about it a lot
Sometimes I have dark thoughts
about my own thoughts
I wish i didn’t have thoughts that led to other thoughts I didn’t wish to have
The glass-encased Rose couldn’t do much to avoid her assailant; it was very persistent that all she could do is watch its sharp beak striking the case and wishing it wouldn’t break no matter how much it tries. Its raven-black feathers are calm and unmoving, despite the harsh winds brought about by the oncoming hurricane. Its eyes are dark and piercing, and yet strangely enough, it is unfeeling; emotionless. Very unnerving once you realize it isn’t an ordinary bird. In fact, it is not a bird at all. At least, not one Rose has ever seen before. Indeed it has the head of a large bird, but it has the body of a large cat, with a tail of a horse—it is a chimaera, and it is still trying to break the glass she’s in. She felt something pushing up her throat and coughed up. It was a red petal. Then another. Another. And then she noticed the thorns growing out of her fingers. Outside the glass encasement, the creature has been trying to warn Rose that it had the potion to reverse the metamorphosis, but it could not break through the glass for it was not only the thickest it has ever seen but it was also sound-proof. “It might be too late for me, but it isn’t quite for her. She must think I am insane, knocking through this glass.” says Evan. As Rose coughed up another red petal, her last image was of the creature still trying to break the thick glass between them.
i think but i don’t know.
i think i think too much but never resolve any of my thoughts.
i think i want to make a smart choice but i think i love self-sabotage.
i think i think but i can’t decide.
i think rather than feel.
one day, you will wish upon a star.
one day, you will wish upon that star that you could let go, of everything.
you will want to stop thinking.
because to you, thinking is synonymous to remembering.
and that hurts too much.
I thought about it and i started writing. there was no going back and I really had no time to think about it. I just wrote and wrote. I continue in reckless abandon. When will the time be up?
My brain hurts. I’m not sharp like I used to be. Give me my brain breakfast
I know not to think. It’s better just to do, just like surfing.
As he sat there, in the darkness, drifting through realms of consciousness, it finally came to him~ all these voices he had been hearing were the prayers of the souls confused by the scale of the universe he had created. He paused for a moment, to think of his achievements… not bad for a drop out, but still just a trifle compared to some of the greater architects of his race.
I can’t think clearly. I am clouded and clogged by illness, and my good mind fails me. I feel as if I am a shell. Please, let me be better soon.
Think less—write more. Be able to walk away from situations and sit down to have time dedicated to yourself. Pick up a pen, a pencil, a marker, or a crayon. Write with anything and just see what happens. If you stop and think too long then the naturalness is no longer possible. Less thinking leads to an openness in your mind. You are free to just make your mark on the pages below.
I think about the choices I made; they were horrible ones. Driving that car, abandoning the children… Why? I think. WHY? It is all utterly unfair. I do wish we had second chances, a choice to start over. Because if we did I would say yes. I need another life, a totally new one. Where people will recognize me with my talents and not a joke maker or one who messes up all the time.
When I stop to think, a lot of pain comes. Some happiness comes but it is mostly pain that comes whenever I think about the past or the future. When I think of now, I just feel tired a lot of the time. Sometimes, I wish I didn’t think as much as I do I wish I just felt. If I could feel instead of think, I’d be a happier person because I wouldn’t focus on the past or the future as much.
Think. Think. What a terrifying order. Sometimes I feel like I have nothing else to do, and then it starts to feel like a suicide mission. Think. Think. Keep thinking until it’s over.
If he would just shut up, maybe i could think.
Just a moment’s peace, and maybe i could get something done,
all the trucks and traffic, phones ringing and people asking inane questions.
A quiet moment would really do wonders.
think thought thunk thank. Thank yoou think you can you think are you who you think you are? thoughts threw thrust three think of those trees. Thunk tunk dank dunk think thunk shmoke dank dunk. Water trees freeze thought thank thunk tha – a – nank. Thank. Think.
I think too much and not enough.
i thought about everything, every single thing imaginable but it never worked all my thoughts were useless and i just couldn’t do it any more i couldn’t stand here and think about you again.
open your mind!
open your heart!
Breath, live, love…THINK!