I think. I think a lot. I think now, i think then. I think about you, i think about me. I gave my thoughts the power to control me. Now i am not me. I am my thoughts.
I saw my future in a rancid dream. I saw myself falling. Hence, i befriended fear. So i shall do what it says. It tells me to not rise because falling comes with rising. Now i am not my thoughts. I am my fear.
Will it always be like this? What if it never changes? What if my fear doesn’t go away? Now i am not my fear. I am my ambiguity.
The feelings churn in my guts. I can feel them rising up my throat. My brows are getting tensed. I just might puke. Now i am not my ambiguity. I am my anxiety.
It’s not a foreign feeling. It’s there and then it’s not. I think it likes playing peekaboo. But when it’s gone, i know i won’t be my anxiety. I will be my depression.
IntrovertTheory 