I don’t know where my hiccup decisions come from.
They’re like guttural spasms. The choking of air
Is the constant anxiety. Thinking things through
Only adds more confusion. Whatever I do,
Worrying about worrying while in despair
Is a blend of psychosis that renders me numb.
In my mind there’s a feedback loop endlessly closed.
Thoughts that speed as if race cars are always the same.
Did I take enough time to consider every
Possible thing I should have and confidently?
In a dither of doubt no relief can I claim.
Choices are not decisions. My truth is exposed.
There are infinite data – too much to take in
For any given situation that occurs.
Deciding on an issue by using the mind
May result in catastrophe for my behind.
Doing just as I please is what this self prefers.
Can there be a solution that won’t mete my sin?
Mystical states of consciousness can be achieved
Where there is a natural lightness of feeling
Difficulty is effortless. Life is a breeze.
I’m not at that place yet, but I feel more at ease.
I’m a cloud not misshapen… a God awful thing
That is badly designed. In that, I am relieved.
The awareness state I’m conditioned to resist.
The repugnant sensation of discord creates
Sensory basis for the ego to appear
To convince me that no state is better than fear.
We are not helpless creatures consumed by our fates.
Intuition is something that can’t be dismissed.