I’ve always felt like my mind has a voice of it’s own. Maybe even a mind of it’s own. Sometimes I feel like a different person, stuck inside a shell of a whole different personality. Trust me when I tell you that sometimes I see myself standing away from myself. A ‘me’ talking to people. A ‘me’ reading a book or watching a movie. A ‘me’ just wandering around with a smile. I see myself like I’m the soul who’s travelling outside it’s body, watching himself trying to exist. I do feel like a different person on different days. A happy person, a sad person, a poetic person, a lover, a hater, a crybaby, a wanderer, a traveller on the path of ruination, these are all versions of me, trapped inside this fragile body full of catastrophe.
But silence has always been a good old friend. And chaos a nemesis. Chaos finds me sitting peacefully and comes to destroy my moments of tranquillity. I’ve got a loud mind. Like the one that feeds of my energy to resume it’s habit of overthinking exhausting me completely. But it has become an old friend as well. We talk a lot. Most of the things I wanna say, I say them in my head. My voice feels different in my head. It’s more calm and confident. Like if you could read my mind you’ll see me as somewhat wise…and sane. But that’s not always the case. There’s a dark place as well. Home to my demons. My tongue feels like an enemy. It can never say what I want to say. It’s a coward. Maybe that’s why it’s in hiding. Maybe I’m overthinking again. Maybe I’m normal. Maybe most people feel the same way. Or maybe I’m crazy. Or maybe I’m in that lost state. A state everyone goes through in their lives. Yeah maybe I’m just lost.