In the infinity of celestial bodies…<\/p>\n\n\n\n
In all the immensity the universe lays before us…<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Somewhere out there, I find myself thinking.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Nothing well structured. You know, just electrical pulses scattered across loose connections.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Nothing crazy, really, and yet enough to keep my mind busy.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I think about all the plans that didn’t work out. About the dreams that crumbled over the years.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I think about all the turns I never thought I’d take, but took anyway.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I think about what I believed to be true, but wasn’t. And what was true, but I refused to believe.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I think about the words I wanted to say, but didn’t. Sentences adrift in nonexistence, in the realm of imagination, where they can no longer become real.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I also think about what was said but shouldn’t have… About what could have stayed in the void, but made its way to the surface, where it didn’t belong.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I think about all I wanted to do, but didn’t. And about all I wanted to do, but couldn’t.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I think. I think a lot. I think too much.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
And I feel a lot, too. To be honest, sometimes I feel sorry for feeling too much.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Not that I don’t want to be who I am–I’m very comfortable in my own skin.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I’d rather feel too much than not at all.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Even if it means constant agony. Even if I bleed for it, I’d rather see the world in all its colours than in a narrow, monochrome gamut.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
It’s no fun if it’s tasteless.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I guess the problem is when I don’t feel anything.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Because this emptiness turns me black and white.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
And, honestly… a life in greyscale is the last thing I want.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
So I keep on thinking.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
And feeling.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Sometimes, with sorrow. Other times, with joy.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
But always thinking. And feeling. Not necessarily in that order.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
***<\/p>\n\n\n\n
As words and images tangle in my head, sensations follow at a similar pace.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Silence fills the space and brings a kind of comfort.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I breathe deeply.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I close my eyes and focus my attention on the rise and fall of my chest.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
“It’s all good,” I tell myself.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Whether I believe what I say, well… who’s to say?<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The restlessness suffocating me fades, and I fall asleep without noticing.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Momentarily disconnected.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Yet, eternally awake.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
In the infinity of celestial bodies… In all the immensity the universe lays before us… Somewhere out there, I find myself thinking. Nothing well structured. You know, just electrical pulses scattered across loose connections. Nothing crazy, really, and yet enough to keep my mind busy. I think about all the plans that didn’t work out. […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_jetpack_newsletter_access":"","_jetpack_dont_email_post_to_subs":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_tier_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paywalled_content":false,"_jetpack_feature_clip_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":"","jetpack_post_was_ever_published":false},"categories":[1],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-233","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-uncategorized"],"jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"jetpack_featured_media_url":"","_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/journal.igarachi.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/233","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/journal.igarachi.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/journal.igarachi.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/journal.igarachi.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/journal.igarachi.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=233"}],"version-history":[{"count":2,"href":"https:\/\/journal.igarachi.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/233\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":235,"href":"https:\/\/journal.igarachi.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/233\/revisions\/235"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/journal.igarachi.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=233"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/journal.igarachi.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=233"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/journal.igarachi.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=233"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}