The Spinning Wheel

I know that this blog post looks like a really long boring blog post and maybe you want to leave already but I promise that this post consists of maybe 5 sentences so you would have read it quickly maybe but I am warning you ; my head is a mess when I let it be one.

So, I am home and I basically don't have much more to do than sitting around and watching DVDs and thinking about my whole existence on this planet or what happens to us when we die (if you read "Looking For Alaska" you might be left with that tickling inspiration of deepening yourself into these kind of thoughts too), but next to those rather philosophical questions I spend my time with, I think about something I don't get the chance to think about very often because my social contacts are held at a minimum most of the time until now when I came to meet a person, a guy actually, who is the main character in the role play of my vibrant thoughts.

I really like him but I don't know what to do because I am not quite sure if he likes me too. I sure want to see him again but I am waiting for him to ask me because somehow I keep thinking he will, but what if he won't? I wish I could just convert into a plant and grow in a nice valley or something without having any problems troubling me under this thin skin of cellulose and pectin and other things I can't recall from my biology class but appareantly that's not how life works so I am here thinking about him all the time wondering if it makes any sense at all to sit here in front of my computer and check my messages and wait and think and think and think and think as if there weren't any other interesting things to do with your life.

The ability to think like we humans do is probably one of the best things that evolved from evolution in the course of the years but it is also the biggest curse I have come across in my whole existence of 21 years and 7 months and 5 days (something like that). I don't remember how often I tried to tell myself to shut up (not literally, although I tend to talk to myself from time to time), but it just never works because my mind keeps spinning like a crazy wheel spinned by some drunken man and that never ever stops. Even if I end up thinking "So okay, you will just wait for whatever happens, and if nothing happens, you can still do something about it, like ask him yourself if he wants to see you again, that is no big deal, end of the story", but some minutes later I keep starting that game again right from the start, from the moment on we started talking on to when we met on to when we wrote the last time. That's how the wheel is spinning and spinning and spinning until I feel all dizzy and tired, raising my arms in the air to fight against the invisible enemies crashing through the walls of my room. They are my thoughts, of course, and even if they rarely leave my head, I fight against them until I am sick of it and decide to do something to distract myself from my life.

I know that this post is just a huge, long rant about how I can't handle anything that has to do with social things, especially inculding the opposite gender plus including dating and I am sorry that I probably write the longest sentences in the history of writing sentences but sometimes everything just comes pouring out of my fingers like a waterfall of feelings and letters crunched together like some thick unidentifiable mash and I just can't help but write it all down because those streams of quirky creativity don't jump at me that often in the last time because I am not doing much these days next to pondering about philosophical questions and bawling my eyes out because fictional character in books and DVDs just die away without giving me a chance to rescue them.

So this was just a long stream of consciousness I am not quite sure how to end it because it actually never ends, this is just a tiny extract from my daily thinking and if I stop typing now it will go on and on and on so I will just leave you and hope that maybe you are one of the lucky persons who don't overthink their whole life until they are lying on the floor staring to the ceiling talking to themselves until their mum walks in and asks if they're alright. And they're not, actually, because how can they be alright when their brain keeps torturing them from dusk til dawn.

But I will leave you now, you trustworthy person who read all of my messy thoughts until the end. Thank you. I might now at least not feel so alone with them.