The Perils Of Irrationally Rationalizing The Irrational

This is not a poem.
This is me trying to figure something out.
And I’m not getting my fucking period.

My mind is racing, I can’t stop thinking.
Where do you even begin with it all?
I can’t write everything down; it’s happening too fast.
Which gets to be incredibly frustrating. I hate to think of all those fleeting thoughts. How many of them were worth remembering? How many had the answer?
Too many, I think.
Even now.
What exactly am I trying to say?
What is this structure?

What does it mean? What does it mean? Why did this happen? Why did he say this? Why did she say that?
Why did I step in shit when I should’ve could’ve would’ve missed it?
Why did I meet you when I should’ve could’ve would’ve missed you?
All these seemingly unlikely events, all strung together so perfectly.
Feels like a dream. That must mean something, right?
It’s too precise.
Too fortunate to mean nothing.

What does my horoscope say today? Will it corroborate? Validate?
Is it a coincidence that it mentioned wanting to move across the country?
Oddly specific.
I have been counting down. Only 86 more days.
I’m overdue for an oil change, but…
It seems unlikely that my Co-Star mentioned road trips and my check engine light also turned on this morning.
I think I’m on to something.

Is there some kind of cheat sheet in the sky? Is that why we always look up for answers?
Planes gone by. Clouds with no shape. Is that my dead dog’s face?
Oh, look, a paper bag. What does that mean?

Solving life like a math problem.
If 2+2=4, does him liking my post + me randomly deciding to wear the same outfit we first met in = we’re meant to be together? (Wrong answer)
What does my friend cancelling our plans + me feeling sad and deciding to go for a walk + accidentally running into my ex’s ex = (?)
Do accidents actually happen?
Is there a way to logically quantify unlikely coincidences and gut feelings?
Does it make sense or am I trying to make it make sense?
You don’t make sense of the world through chaos.
**Take a shot every time I use the word “sense”**

What is the subtext of life? The themes? The motifs? Author’s intent? Divine intentions?
What is everybody constantly thinking about? What are we trying to gain from one another? How do we win off of one another?

When I don’t know, I look for the answers through accidents, whispers, scenes from our loves, sometimes Radiohead songs.

I have a terrible habit of trying to find the meaning in the meaningless.

When I do look up to the stars, I wonder if you’re looking up with me.
I feel like you are sometimes. I think we always know if we’re thinking of one another.
I think we’re all connected and that if you think about someone enough, it means they’re thinking about you too.

A random call: Oh, I was just thinking about you!
See, I was right!

That has to mean something. It can’t always be a coincidence. It can’t be that absurd.
Maybe the timing of me writing this essay was fate. (No, I don’t want to use the “F” word.)
Divine intervention (?)
Not for me but for somebody else.
Maybe this is somebody else’s answer. I was oddly compelled by the questions of others, but aren’t we all?

I don’t know what I’m trying to say, I don’t know who I’m writing this for. There’s always someone out there that I’m cryptically writing to. I can’t ignore these feelings.
I can’t shake the sensation that I might be on their mind as well.
When you’re thinking about them, you’re doing more than thinking about them.
They’re more than a fleeting thought. Like a background character in a deeper analysis of yourself.
When you think about them, you feel something. You almost sense something.
“I wonder if they ever think about me?”
In some odd way you know they do.

Random text.
Random like.
Random call.
Random movie.
Random song.
I don’t know… You just know.

It all has to mean something, right?
It’s all too important.
We feel too much. We feel everything.
It must mean something.

How much should I trust what I feel?
Sifting through the pieces of life, trying to put it together like a puzzle that just won’t fit.
I can’t help but think how significantly happier I’d be right now.
I wonder what was supposed to happen. It feels like so much was supposed to happen.
We do always have a choice… so was it the right choice?
Did I make the wrong choice? Oh god, did I stray away?
Every decision is essentially yes or no.
We can’t control the choices we’re given; we can control the choices we make, but is there a right choice?
Is this making sense?




Truthfully, I’m very high.
Somewhere between cloud five and nine, and I think I can hear Where is My Mind. (Woah, that kinda rhymes.)
But all the preceding questions still stand.

Funny girl, writer, & clueless.

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