Having spent an hour writing and making no sense of it, I have come to the conclusion that I think too much. My mind is constantly preoccupied by a myriad of clamouring thoughts, all tripping over each other to get noticed. I find it hard to make much of any of them, so quickly so they jostle each other out of the way.
They take away from my mood, leaving me feeling off key and unbalanced. I never thought I would describe myself as discontent, but I think that’s what I am. It feels as if I just do not have enough, and yet I know I have more than plenty. I am an extremely fortunate soul, who am I to demand more. Maybe it is not that I want more, and simply that I have not yet found that which will make nothing feel like everything.
I think perhaps I am too changeable with my emotions. I am indecisive. I just can’t make my mind up.
If I were a horse, I would be one of the ones we call ‘special’. One of the ones that is totally fine and everyone is pleased until it randomly freaks out at nothing and tries to throw someone on the floor. The horse that is almost fast asleep for the farrier until the last foot when it decides to rear and flip over backwards. I’d be the one that didn’t bat an eyelid when you put it’s rug on yesterday, but today the rug is definitely a lion and you’re definitely in league with it. That kind of horse. The kind that few people have much patience for.
But of course it’s different when you’re human, because no one can see all that weird stuff. You can mask it with words and smiles and if you get good at acting, no one will suspect. So people don’t realise how flighty you are, how much you want to run from anything that looks remotely threatening, how difficult you find it when there’s a plastic bag flapping in the wind. Okay, that last one was a joke. Just so you know…
And I definitely think too much.