Oh to be thoughtless…

Something is existing within me, as though i am twofold or even threefold. Something small is finding its way through crevices i had forgotten about. I am afraid that this something whatever it is, is waking me up to a new realization i am probably not ready for.
I find myself devouring books, stories, characters as though i am in need; like feeding a hunger so unforseen but is no longer bearable.
Thoughts are unwinding and emotions are foreign to this new layer i am touching upon. It just seems too complex to describe to anybody and i find myself sounding more absurd the harder i try.
Its some form of depth that is scary and brand new. It is like suddenly putting your hand under ice cold water and for the first second your body thinks its burning boiling water. I am exactly in that moment and i am not sure whether im feeling the coldness or the heat.
Its like a yes and a no existing together, like knowing and not knowing simultaneously. Its darkness and light giving the same blinding effect.
Sometimes i try to just stop, halt every thought into a screeching pause. It never works. Some part of me is always listening, watching, observing and processing the world and it wears me out. So i find myself giving my undivided attention to books and fictional characters with beginnings and endings so clear and so definite; too infinite and simply printed. Maybe if i read long enough and distract myself intently enough i will have better vocabulary and clearer thoughts. Maybe…

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