Thinking... of Not Thinking?
Thought after thought after thought,
I wonder, will it ever stop?
I can't get out of myself,
Can't get out of my body or my head.
Before I ask you why we’re always escaping our mind, I’d first like to ask; Is thinking a privilege? If you’re a shepherd, rearing your herd of sheep every day; the chances of drifting into the clouds of your imagination and thinking about everything around you would be, well, less. If you were a shepherd, your mind would be constantly bogged with your day-to-day routine, the worry of providing for your family, and rivalries with the other nearby shepherds. Would you have time, the pain or the pleasure to contemplate how clouds with low vapor density can cast a shadows upon your grassy fields bespeckled with daisies? Does that mean that thinking is a privilege, granted to those who live life with slightly fewer worries and more luxury?
Some do drugs,
Some go for a run,
But in the end, we’re all looking for a little that sweet escape,
A little hole in outer space.
Reality is a prison,
And our mind’s a cage.
But those who lead a life of lavishness and extravagance are always looking for portals away from reality. Drugs, parties, alcohol, and now, social media; the instant getaway from the mind. It’s either running away from the mind, having no time to think of having nothing to think of at all due to the lack of thought process (which, in this case, would be scrolling through the seemingly endless movies and televisions shows on Netflix).
I'm too scared to sleep,
Wondering where my mind will take me.
I squeeze my eyes shut,
And block out everything before it can take over me.
And why is it that when we’re alone, that’s when all those thoughts start bubbling up? Why is it that during the night, when the world is a little quieter, is when we think the most? Why are we always trying to escape that?
Distractions are just actions,
For the brain to stop its chemical reactions.
I don’t know who I am,
Identity crisis at its finest.
They say that movies, books, music, and other forms of "art" are vessels of escapism; to transport oneself to another world because we weren't ready for this one. But, isn’t everything we do a form of distraction, a form of escaping our own mind? Whether it’s the system of working from 9-5 and waiting for the weekend or painting a portrait of your best mate or yelling at your television when the two characters you wanted to get together didn’t. The societies we’ve made; from culture & religion to books to school life; aren’t they all inventions and systems to distract us from ourself?
Is it a curse or a boon to be trapped inside one’s mind?
If you remain too much inside your head, do you lose your mind?