They’re just thoughts, your thoughts.
They may be brilliant or dull or obsessive or dark or downright entertaining, but they are just thoughts.
They’ll lead you somewhere, they always have, they always will.
They are not who you are or why you are or even really come from you at all.
Floating thoughts, jumping thoughts, playing in the back of your mind thoughts. Thoughts with weight and momentum and certainty of their validity. Fleeting, fiery, forecasting thoughts. Repetitive, habitual, recognizable, s0- fucking-familiar-are-we-actually-here-again thoughts.
They’re just thoughts.
When they pass by, like a paper boat floating across a screen (you can picture that right?) they just pass by.
Sometimes I watch them pass by, those funny thoughts. Other times I grab hold and wrestle them down, grip on with fierce identity. You’re mine, thoughts! I’m you! This is all real!
Thoughts for breakfast, thoughts for lunch, thoughts for change, thoughts that engulf you, trick you, super slick thoughts.
Boring thoughts, impassioned thoughts, thoughts that evoke feelings- feelings that trigger thoughts.
Important thoughts. Very very important thoughts, thoughts worth thinking.
But still just thoughts.