Just Another Shower ThoughtSparkler Post
I sometimes think that I take more time in the shower thinking than showering.
Like how I'll take showers for 15 minutes but I can wash myself in 3.
Or how I'll just slide down the wall and sit on the floor, pondering literally my entire existence while being cleansed by the water pouring, pouring, pouring down on me.
Sometimes I think about how when I leave the shower, my thoughts will have changed my mind in some way and then I'll be a whole new person. The water will have poured until it washed away everything and my mind will have thought 'till it changed a little bit of everything.
Sometimes I think about why I read depressing books; is it just to feel more? I certainly don't need more to feel. I'm already awash in these emotions. My heart is my boat and I'm sailing through the seas that are my emotions and I think it's sprung a leak, because now I'm seeing the emotions leak in s-l-o-w-l-y, and I know that soon I'll be under the ocean of my feelings because I can't help but to feel, and to feel deeply.
Sometimes I think about what I would do if I was in the books that I read; would I be just like I am now? Just a little bit lonelier? Or would I be even meaner, even more sarcastic, more closed off? Would I have more of a will to fight for what I want? What I need? Or would I be more passive? I don't know, but I'm guessing I'd be all of things wrapped up into a ball; an impossible contradiction that isn't so impossible. An oxymoron, that's what I'd be.
Sometimes I think about how I got here. How I got to being so stressed. How I got to being so quiet and loud and e v e r y t h i n g in between. How the in between moments, the ones when I just think, probably affect me as much as any of the *moments*, the ones where everything is fast and moving and loud and just so there.
Sometimes, I think about whether anyone else thinks like this, like their mind is light grey important thoughts, dark grey sounds, yellow scents, black is songs, and there is a color for anything. And somehow in the colors there are boxes that you can't see but you can feel, feel so much that it's you can maybe-kind of-almost see them And each box is a specific thing and each box has boxes in it that have the colors of the specific thing and all of the boxes are on trains and there are hundreds of trains and they are all racing for my attention and they spread me too thin sometimes.
And sometimes I think about how the thoughts I'm thinking right now, these deep, changing thoughts, are just another box on just another train. They're just another shower thought.