Imagine a Grand Prix.
Final lap.
Cars rushing like meteors.
Crashing and Burning,
Twisting and Turning.
That’s how thoughts run
in this tiny head on mine.
That’s the anatomy of the
mind of an over-thinker.
Like auto-correct suggestions
on a keypad;
we think of possibilities.
Like fishing with a thousand
hooks;
we pluck probabilities.
We don’t carry a halo
on our heads.
We carry a blur on our faces.
No No No No No,
We aren’t the faceless.
We are just looking at the
processes running in the background.
Nothing surprises us.
What you are thinking
is already been thought
when we were thinking of
what you will think
when we tell you what we
think when you think of
what we are thinking.

Mind-fuck?
Yes,
That’s our perpetual state
of being.

 

Featured Image captured and edited by @icapturethee