Showers of Angst

That awkward moment when I want to take a shower but keep thinking about how one day I will die, and everything will go away all I know all I am will become naught;
I think on my past and how little I understood though I thought I knew, and how I think now that I know, but my future sees otherwise. How the bars I have built in my mind seem trite in the order of things, this desire to fit in, this need to be liked, to be loved so useless, a splint on my unscathed leg but why do I still care; putting on what I think the best face of Me for the situation afraid of what will happen if i let my selves bleed together into one to speak that strongest thought to speak the profanity that is within me that I know is not profane yet I pretend it is and hold my tongue.

And now I take my fucking shower.
Osho was right about Fuck.
Repeat Fuck you five times in the morn as mantra. speak it as meaning, mean the words you speak and disregard those who would hold it against thee for your life is the most precious thing there is_


Over and over I say: “It is time to stop pretending you don’t care, to stop pretending you’re just being sarcastic, to pretend, at the slightest phantom of rejection that you don’t mean your words, because you know full well that you mean every singe thing you said with all of your being” and every time, the words and logic of by brain bleed into my hear, and I am a little bit more free. Or perhaps it is the other way around, it is the heart that is convincing the brain to let go of this idiotic fear.



About inkywaters

Just another semi-confused soul in the endless aether.

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