The Walking Dead

For me, it’s not that there are too many bad thoughts, nor is it that any of them are incoherent… but instead, it’s that there are so many /words/, and so many of all those thoughts make so much /sense/, in my head, but they just flow too quickly to verbalize; it seems like even a sustained 200+wpm would not be enough. Trying to write the words, changes the thoughts. And that all becomes too much, and i just “stop,” because i can’t get it all into a communicable format, before it overwhelms me. At this point, i just accept and define it as ineffable, and feel defeated by my own lack of ability to “wrangle” all those thoughts and ideas and correlations into something that someone else could understand as i mean it to be understood. Then i feel… detached… hazy… like vapor, instead of a semi-solid bundle of particles and fluids. And you know you can’t really say what you really think, and so you stop trying to say, and since you can’t say, you don’t bother to think, since it’s all stuck in your head either way. And nothing changes, and the circumstances and scenarios that brought you to that place, remain as they are, and keep festering… and you can’t even force yourself to think about it, because it’s just no use. You’re stuck with what you’re stuck with, and it won’t change until you can figure out what to do… which won’t be today, or tomorrow, or maybe even this year… because before you can ever get a proper handle on it, it always overwhelms you again, and you need another break from even thinking. Meanwhile, everything that’s wrong, perpetuates… because you can’t even verbalize, even to just your own mind, what exactly it is that you need to do. So you just kinda go with it, with whatever, knowing nothing really matters, because nothing will ever become what you want, while you’re too scattered to even navigate your own thoughts, without repeatedly breaking down. You know to keep doing things that are expected of you, if only to minimize the impacts of your inabilities… but nothing really “means” anything… and you’re basically just waiting for a day when things are finally different; whether that makes you more alive, or the rest of the way to dead. And if you can’t even dominate your own mind, then it doesn’t really matter what happens, between now and the end. It would be sad to waste what’s left of the gift of life… it would be sad to hurt those who do care, by choosing to go ahead and die… but it just doesn’t matter, in the end. And so you figure “might as well keep trying,” while you have something you can’t replenish or replace… and you want to get carried away by thoughts of better days and better endings… and when you do, you are quickly reminded, upon being brought back to that other place, that there is a reason, probably copious reasons, why even the fantasies seem so empty, and fade so quickly… and it’s because you know you’ll never make it, if you can’t even verbalize the million thoughts flashing through your mind each second of each day… and so it just seems to make more sense to shut it down, and try not to think about any of that, for another day.

At least… this is the thought process that occurred to me upon reading your post, and the resulting words that formed, as i tried to express some of the ineffable.