Thinking can slowly kill you
It can fill your mind with millions of thoughts while it empties your heart
It tears your heart and leaves behind the bad memories while hiding the good ones
Your thoughts can be your worst enemy or your best friend
They can tell you what you are
Or you can train them to tell you what you want to hear
Sometimes the truth can be distorted or can be so clear that we trip over it
Our minds can play games with us
It can make us think that nothing good has happened to us even if that is far from the truth
What makes us concentrate on the bad things and not on the good?
Why do we torture ourselves?
Do we love the pain we inflict on ourselves?
Does it make us feel good to put our heart through some kind of penance?
What is so appealing about digging up the past?
What purpose does it server us?
How does it help us?
Is it a way in which we remind ourselves not to make the same mistakes over again?
Where would this desire come from?
What good is it to be able to do this?
To be able to learn from our own mistakes as well as the mistakes of others?
Does is serve as a part of our conscience?
Is it a “design” that is “built” into us?
If it is, then who put it in?
Do we put it into ourselves or does someone else?
If we put it in ourselves then how did we do it?
If it was someone else then who?
Why did they put it in us?
What good does it do?
Does it prove to us some kind of a point?
Does it make our lives easier in some way?
Do all of these questions help us to understand ourselves?
Is it good to ask all of these questions?
Do they show a sign of weakness or of a hidden strength?
Is it good to question our thoughts?
To examine what might be hidden behind our thoughts?
What truth lurks just beyond plain sight?
Is there a purpose to this whole procedure?
A rationale behind all this?
Or is this plain insanity?
A front to hide dreaded secrets?
Secrets too bad to bring to light?
What could be that bad?
What could possibly bring out that kind of emotion?
I don’t know if anyone can truly answer those questions
Maybe we just have to learn to live with them
Maybe they are there to keep us busy
To give us something to think about
Whatever the case may be, I still have the same opinion:
Thinking can slowly kill you.

Note: This is my own personal and original poetry.


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