No Thinking

I don’t want to want to think. Worry. Stress. But, how’s it possible to do so with so much pressure life mounts on your shoulders? When will I meet the changed man I attempt to materialize right in front of my very own eyes each second passing by? That man, patient when reaching for his broom after making an obvious mess? That man, graceful in every step through hot coal singing his stone-like flesh?

Or, maybe I’ve found him as isolation is still a chink in armor given to me by those malicious in nature. Leading me to distance myself from a world full of harbingers of tears I’ve manifested throughout my lonesome years. Like, itsy bitsy insecurities that widen the more I closely focus on them…

Because, the comfort distance provides when escaping any kind of cerebral turmoil just, feels like the kind of silk a poor man cannot afford on his best day. Feels like, that moment stepping into your local supermarket after being scorched by an exploding sun forcing us to feel its loving wrath until the end of time…

Yet, regardless of our circumstance, you can’t get that sexy ‘tan’ skin without standing underneath its blazing glory for however long you must…