Overthinking.

“Don’t overthinking things. It’s useless. You know that.”

Yeah.
It’s as if that easy.
If only someone will scream on the biggest megaphone there is right on my ears, and the bigger the sound is the more effective it will be.
I’m willing to go deaf, for the greater good of everyone’s sake.

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47 years i thought i had live my life.
And most of it are somewhat a waste of the beings.
Failed marriages, and spoiled kids are always my top anxiety of what had become.
Striving to some careers that only distracts of what life really brings on silver plates, moments i had to let passed by without even tasting how disgusting yet flavourful the dish are.
It’s really uncanny to finally really think about that.

Now i am sitting on a park-bench with a 5 years old laptop i had from some christmas gifts back in the office.
Listening to the instrumental music i thought will soothe me from these anxieties.
Looking at how beautiful these kids playing around with each other and really being present on enjoying their time, their lives.
Even makes me feel more anxious.

Regrets.
No, it’s much deeper than that.
I don’t have words for that, in the matter of a fact, i don’t have words for anything at all.
I’m writing blindly.
All of the feelings, all of the stories, and all of that matters are all being tangled to each other in a pocket of an anxious mind.
I don’t know how to sort them out, i can’t even find its ends.
It’s all too stuffy for a very old-me.

And yeah, christmas is coming.
I don’t have any plans on wether who will i spend the holidays with. Probably no one. Like the usual.
Maybe not that usual, cause the anxieties definitely amplified to an extent where i don’t have any more power to cope and deal with it.
Life was giving me too much plates with sour lemons in it, i don’t even know how anything taste anymore.

But, the chill is still there.
The long cold night is always be my favourite worst thing on this season.
I can curled up under the blanket and think about stuff i did back when i was 22.
When i finally met the love of my life. The one who fixed my broken heart of losing a mother, a person i thought i love the most (yeah, it sticks even until now).
I took him for granted. And he’s dead long time ago.
Exactly a year after the breakup.
And i, was always be that one who never keep track on timeline, knows exactly how long it has been from the breakup.
It is 23 years 4 months 27 days and 6 hours 32 minutes from the moment i write this.

He left with all the millions of feelings, cause i’m still loving him deeply.
I can still feel the wound that thing has give me.

Snow is starting falling down on my lap, and going straight kaput into oblivion. no, i mean, water. snow turns into water (duh?)
The weather getting colder now, and the sun is nowhere to be seen.
But, i feel warm, no, i feel burning inside. Like, something is about to blow out from my chest.
I wanna cry, the well of tears that holds them is cracking up, and i want to cry. I do really want to cry. But, i can’t.
No, i don’t feel crying is a sign of my weakness. And i’m not afraid of being weak. I’m physically weak now. I might have die, if i stay 3 hours longer in this bench with this weather. But…
You know, when you really want to cry but you don’t know what the reasons are and can’t really do it physically, you just like.. cried inside?

I don’t know about a physical interaction would help me.
But, one of my former friends told me, that i might have needing a good hug, that fixes a broken bones and make it stronger when i do actually have a broken ribs 2 years ago because of clumsiness.
And yeah, i said former.
Cause he is dead.
How could i befriend with a dead person?
Maybe soon, when i am actually dead too. But, what are the chances that we will be meeting each other in the afterlife, where i don’t really believe it exists?

But, to think about it more.
I know, i am closer than ever to my death. Actual death.
Not the one when i said “i am dead inside”
It was happened very loooong time ago, i can’t even remember when.
But i am sure it happened when i was even younger than you, 3 years ago when you read this. (i’m not sure why i write this, though. merely a joke much?)
Back the topic, i don’t know where will i go after i’m dead.
I’m not scared of being death, per se.
But, the dying part, i do actually am.
How do i take care of my dying if i can’t even talk or walk or do anything else rather than groaning to bear the pain?

Well, it’s getting colder here now.
just 2 and half hour before i’m actually dying out of the coldness of the weather here.
So, i’ll talk you when my mind playing tricks on me again. won’t we?
Just make sure that you take care of your well-being until then.

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Honestly, it’s really hard for me to bear all the pain in me.
And only if i could, i would not second-thought of being deaf and finally efectifying the screams of not overthinking things.
I would.