And so I’m always thinking.
I think about thinking.
They say that I think too much. And I think about that.
I think about the fact that people say that I think too much.
Because, in my head, I’m thinking…
How can I think too much, because does thinking too much make me act too little, or does thinking too much, make me neurotic? Does it make me worry about things that don’t matter?
But don’t matter, to whom?
I’m always concerned with who it is that is telling me that I should not do something. And so, if over the years, sure it seems like a problem and I kind of know it is, it just doesn’t make me feel good…
And if our purpose on the planet is just to make ourselves feel good…
then I can kind of get where they are coming from, overthinking does not make me feel good…
but at the same time, the people who are telling me not to overthink- they are actually telling me that I need to be like everybody else…and here’s the thing- we are all the same creature, I get that, there’s like almost 8 billion of us, its the same thing over and over and over and over again- BUT-
What if…
What if…
Instead of telling everybody who did something a little bit differently than everyone else- what if instead of telling them to stop doing that because it’s wrong, because it’s TOO different, and you should be like we say be- you should behave the same way as all of the rest of us because we’re all …
we’re all…
fucked up in some kind of way…There’s somebody, some law, some reason that tells us that we cannot do things differently from what is considered normal because if we do those things then SOME THING IS WRONG WITH US, compared to what though? Compared to what?
And I just feel like sometimes when people tell me that I’m overthinking or that I worry too much, or I’m whatever the hell I am, it’s kind of like saying,
YOU ARE MAKING IT DIFFICULT FOR ME TO CONTROL YOU, so then I have to tell you that what you’re doing in your head, or to yourself, is bad because you doing stuff to you is not allowed. You’re not allowed to do stuff to you. I can only do stuff to you. I can tell you what’s right and wrong and you do what I say. And if you’re doing anything differently than that, then you are BAD.
Maybe I don’t have a healthy perspective.
You know?
Maybe I don’t have, uhm, a qualified point of view to know me and know how to deal with my own problems. Maybe I use the wrong things to deal with my problems.
You know? Boys. Drugs. But I feel like, I’m not going out killing people.
And if anything, I’m hurting myself…and that’s not good, I’m not saying that but on the other hand, it makes me just a tiny bit stronger sometimes…
in dealing with the world you know, because, really there isn’t anything that the world could do to me that I haven’t already done to me.
Do you know what I mean, like, you can hate me, and say all these horrible things to me but you ain’t saying nothing to me that I’ve never said.
You ain’t taking me no where I’ve never gone.
So AS A MATTER OF FACT, because I’ve already done this process to myself, actually, I can IGNORE you.
You don’t matter.

So, why does that mean that I am mentally ill?
I guess if you’ve gotta ask…
Maybe I think too fucking much.
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