I’ve been thinking.
[trigger warning]
I’m noticing that I’m having thoughts of suicide. I’m noticing that I’m having thoughts about thoughts of suicide – and it’s a passive thing. No plans, no acts, no strings; just: why not? What if?
I’m noticing that I’m happy. I’m noticing that I’m happy to be in this moment and that that will be it. That I don’t want to forsake the present for the future and neither do I want to rummage through the past for uncertainties. But.
Is that all right?
Is that okay?
How strange it seems to want to die and yet be content to keep living as long as this moment’s potential could be it.
I’m noticing that I’m quite comfortable these days with my acknowledging of bad thoughts even if they can be wild and dangerously freeing.
I’m noticing that I’m thinking about me.
Why does she intrigue?
Why did she(u) and would she(u) still be?
I’m noticing calm. I’m noticing delight. I’m noticing a tension tense and a deep dark sense of dread that would be willing for a trade to an end to eternity unless, it seems, reality could be her talking and sharing thoughts unique.
Hmm,
It can’t be.
