Powerless is a state of mind, I tell others before I tell myself. And it is the state of mine. My powerless, paralyzed, dizzy, mindless mind.
One thought then another then another th-anoth-nother-an-other. I’d take any other. Any other thought in any other mind. Please someone help me get out of mine.
I’m clenching my jaw. I’m flexing my gut. I’m drowning my words in dispassionate haste. And to what avail but to appear unavailable. But it’s unavoidable… distasteful, pitiful.
Bewildered. I am downright bewildered, and yet not at all. Every time I try to recall if I can recall the last time and if it was like this time or the time before.
Was it just as perplexing as this? As vexing as this? As dizzy mindless uninspired as this? Was it just as hard to move and hard to stay still?
Exhausted and restless. Mind boggled and mindless. Indecisive, insincere, insecure… but oh god I could not be any more pure.
Purely mad. Please someone tell me I’m not. Or tell me I am so the guessing can stop. So the vexing, perplexing, self-hexing can stop.
I can’t say how I’m feeling, so I write it in words. In words on a page, in two lines, just nine times. Words on a page, in two lines, just eight times.
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