three o’clock —
anxiety, regret
in the depths of worry
swept away in the
whirlwind of nothing —
a horrible nothing
—blackout poetry created from Octave Mirbeau, The Diary of a Chambermaid, 1891–1900, page 6
thinking
Mindpaths
Poetry staggers, drunken but wise, amongst the stars.
Philosophy plots its own steady course to the sun.
Overthinking, underdoing
I need to work my way into a decision and not think my way into one.
Unbrain
I’m gonna stop spending so much time trying to figure out HOW and WHY and just do what feels right and give thanks! Because that is healing.