There's something I really like
about driving at night.

There is a certain peacefulness
in the sound the tires on my Honda make
as they rub against the highway
at a steady 9 over the limit,
no traffic to hold me back.

I keep my windows partly cracked
even though my heat is on
because it's the only way I can be
warm but not too hot and
cool but not too cold.

I turn my music up as
loud as it can possibly go,
my mind swimming in the
lyrical metaphors
comparing love to water bodies
and getting lost in the waves.

I ripple down the road
as I drive past the river,
the stars twinkling across the
vast expanse of black.

Sometimes I have a destination in mind,
and other times I don't.
Sometimes I drive because I'm sad
and other times because I'm angry,
regardless I am sometimes crying, screaming,
and or heavily breathing.
I am always pondering,
I am always processing,
I am always gaining perspective,
and, by the end,
I am always at peace,
at least until that time I need to
take another twilight drive down by the Ohio.

So much to process.
Process, process, process,
Process, process, process,
Process, process, process,
Until sleep switches off my endless conveyor belt of over-analyzation.

Tonight I'll precisely pick apart things that have no business being harnessed
Until perfect rest precludes my process-a-palooza.

**** this brain.
And **** the thoughts that float through it, wispy, adrift.
Aimless, with no hope of reaching the other side, the action side.

I know exactly what's going to happen.
And yet, still, I will repeat this process.

The definition of insanity comes to mind.
Am I insane?
Those who do what they've always done will get what they've always gotten.
So some frustration is coming down the pipeline, undoubtedly.

But here I am.

Keeping myself awake while my little mind powers through minutes and seconds and hours of data
Burning itself out completely
And yet accomplishing nothing.

Moral of the story?
To overthink is to run a car for hours with no one driving it,
To study vigorously and then not take the test,
To hedge your bets,
To run on a treadmill,
To fight an uphill battle,
To enter into a no-win scenario on purpose.

To analyze too much is to work the muscles of your sanity to the point of tearing. **** it, **** it all. This crucible of introspection, I hate it.

It's all thinking, and no doing.
What kind of world would we have built on thought? Deceptive, static and imprisoned thought, in and of itself?

The procession marches on through the early morning hours,
Until sleep rescues me from this malicious rabble of thoughts
I cringe at their noise, I grow weak from the weight of such an immense amount of perception  

My mind shifts and sifts through it all
Until I finally lose consciousness.

You left me…
Almost speechless
Like when everything you want to say actually shuts you up
There were flashes of discourses by the greatest men ever
Lyrics to the songs that you never understood
But also there was silence that you would not have respected
Mixed in with a whisper just not loud enough to hear
Ironic how three words, you deemed suited for this moment
Spurred such a stream of simultaneous shush and scream
That gave me both the will to ignore your words forever
As it did the urge to tell you everything to your face

The belief your life is over
With nothing to be done
Its last part in isolation
Waiting
For the pain to become too much
The pain, the pain
Staring at the same walls
Forty-six days in a row
Never knowing whether
Tomorrow you’ll wake up
And if there is, if you’ll survive
A future left in store
Delirium, depression
A hole left in your soul
Then coming out on the other side
Only to realize
Everyone has moved on

Then who are you to utter these three words to my face
Who are you to dictate how my life after that should change
The words you chose so carelessly, I will take to the heart
Just not to leave the past behind but to make a brand new start
I’ll look you in the eye and use your words  against you
When I tell you how I am about to
“Get over it”