the sickness with thoughts

People don't scare me.
It's their thoughts that strike me with fear.

When things bother me and eat away at me, I push them so far in the back of my skull it stings.
It bothers me that I can't deal with bothersome things.

I carry myself with a sense of confidence because if I didn't, everyone would know how insecure I am.
Then I think, who isn't insecure?
Its humorous in terms of, if you're overly confident or utterly insecure, there's something wrong with you.

I want to have worthwhile secrets.
I want to be a mystery.
But in all reality, everyone is just a mystery to me.
Is being predictable a weakness?

I strive to be artsy with little or no talent.
But to me, that in and of itself, is a talent.

I want my words to hold significance, I want to be adored.

I guess this is where my thoughts usually end up.
This being the case, its concerns me, because most of my thoughts, aren't even for me.

I find cancer in my thoughts. Each contaminating the next like blood cells stuck in a vein.
Inescapable cancer, that no matter what I try to cure it with, spreads, further and deeper into my body.
I'm afraid to see what happens when it reaches the surface.

I'm afraid of the bruises that lie beneath my thick layer of skin.

I find justification in feeling this way when I remember everyone feels this way.
That everyone is hard on themselves.

Feeling inspired

I guess all it takes is spotify playlists filled with laid back music to get you blogging. 

Actually, I've been wanting to post on this blog for quite sometime. I feel a sense of completion getting my thoughts on paper, even if it's digital paper, at least it's not loitering in my head. 

I've been thinking about my worth in this lavish world. The significance I hold. 

Is it faulty in comparison to those around me who revel in beauty? 

I look up at the sky and wonder how someone, someone so small as I, could ever be important enough to be of worth in this world. But all in the same moment, I find the same confidence in the sky and stars as I do unimportance. 

I look up, and frankly, take in the fact that my insignificance is beautiful. I couldn't believe this were it not for so many who find themselves so boldly important for carnal reasons.

I find myself consumed in thoughts and questions as my eyes scan the dark air above me. I lay and let my my vivacious thoughts wander into "what ifs" and "why nots". I find peace in life when I realize there's something infinitely bigger than me. An infinity bigger than I could ever hope to let my vague mind fathom.  

I suppose what I'm getting at is that I find significance in insignificance. 

That something so complex as a human, especially one with so many thoughts, questions, ambitions and emotions, could exist when there is plainly something much bigger than it. I find importance in knowing that without me, and those around me, that this something bigger maybe wouldn't be so vast, so esteemed. 

And I realize all my little flaws, mistakes and fears make up my exceptional small self. And without them, I wouldn't be so vast, so esteemed. And that is how I know, that in an endless world with an endless amount of people, I'm substantial. Negativity has the capacity to engulf your surroundings but,"nothing can dim the light that shines from within."- Maya Angelou