Poem – The Endless Cycle Of…

I can’t seem to make the right decisions. Well…at least not as fast I want to make them

Seriously.
I can walk into a convenience store with the intent of making a purchase, spend thirty minutes comparing two different products, place each of them back on the counter, and then walk out of the store without buying anything because I couldn’t make a final decision.

And it’s not like I haven’t tried to change my way of doing things.

I have tried repeating phrases such as:
Go for it. Do it.
Don’t overthink things.
Just choose!
Only to abandon everything and pick the option of no choice.

That’s been the story of my life for years
To over complicate things to the point where nothing gets done.

It’s a viciously draining cycle.

But as strange as it may sound, I have somehow been able to manage my life accordingly.

And how, you may ask? Well…it’s quite simple.

I give myself extra time to overthink.

If for example, I am having difficulty picking between writing a post on my anxieties or my self-loathing, I purposely give myself an extra day to select between my options, knowing well that I will probably settle on writing a post about the ways in which I contradict myself.

It’s honestly quite a fascinating process to witness.

And it’s not as if knowing about how I overthinking everything makes the process easier.
In fact, it seems to make things more intense during the moment.

I don’t really know how to explain it.

But the best way to describe my overthinking is to visualize yourself wearing headphones with the volume turned on high and then you suddenly hear the song that makes your heart race and it gets put on repeat for an unknown amount of time.

You may want to sing along. You may want to break out and dance. But you can’t. Because then others will look at you weirdly. So you have to restrain yourself. And you sit or stand still while all these background noises surround you. And people go on about their daily routine.

And you’re there. Trying your best to block out the noise that others can’t hear.

Over and over again.
For the small decisions and the big ones.
I can’t keep track of all the time that I lost engaging in this process.
But now I have simply learned to enjoy the music and hope for the best.

So when you walk into a store and see someone holding and looking at two different shampoos and they’re still comparing the two when you’re walking out of the store, don’t judge them.

Simply walk past and enjoy your day.

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For the time we spend together is all that we need. It’s all that we have ever known.

Familiar figures migrate back and forth across our rented space.
Reluctantly sitting. Assimilating to the world around them.

Endless bottles of alcohol at hand.
Drank ever so slowly.
Destined to be abandoned on the living room floor.

Small children gather to hear parents speak.
Hearing gleeful stories of a troubled past.
A passion in their voice.
To hide the pain of a world left close behind.

But the sound of laughter fills the air.
Echoing past the narrow halls.
Into the shared rooms where children play.

Bodies begin to stumble. Alcohol starts to spill.

While our aunts and uncles move their bodies to the rhythm of that melodic beat.

The booming sound of music now deafens our ears.
Muddling the words of our conversations.

Incoherent talk of the future.
Of our families and ourselves.
Of what we could be. And what we ought to be.
Dialogue soon to be forgotten.

Yet the talk of gossip remains intact.
As known secrets hastily reveal themselves.
Shining light on strained affairs and strengthen relationships.
No longer rumors left unspoken .

Innocent children stop their play.
To carefully watch their parents with curious eyes and open ears.
Unknowingly learning how to bury the judgment from the world outside.

And soon the night will come to an end.
So, we race to share what our incompetent selves could not do sober.
Conveying our appreciation for what the world has taken and for what it has given us.
To an empty room with no one listening.

Finally, we wave goodbye and roam back to our cramped room.
Turning the lights off as we lie on our twin-size bed.
Our bodies intoxicated and our minds numb.
Anticipating our next celebration as we close our eyes and go soundly back to sleep.

If you like what you see, feel free to make a donation to my Paypal. Any amount would be appreciated. Thank you.

Tag: Poem

The Endless Cycle Of Overthinking

The Endless Cycle Of Celebration