Sometimes I catch myself sitting in silence, when I’ve exhausted a playlist and my mind is a million miles deep in the clouds.
I think, a lot. Sometimes I think, I think too much. Then I see things like this:
Smart girls are the over thinkers, the insecure ones, the different ones. They know what the real world is like. They analyze every little thing in life. Why? To avoid getting hurt. To find happiness. They stay up at night trying to think about every possible situation to get through all problems. They think too much. They trust less people. Their insecurity proves their respect toward themselves. Of course they live away from a drama-filled life. Smart girls know their worth, now that’s the ones worth keeping by your side.
Cheesy, I know. But how much of it is truth? Should I really try and stop thinking so much?
It hasn’t been all bad. Thinking’s helped me dodge bullets, satisfy curiosities I never knew I had, and occupied my mind on many occasions. It’s made me who I am, eccentricities and all.
But then I’ve been sleeping at 3, 4, 5AM since the holidays started. I feel stressed even when there’s nothing to worry about. I lie awake in bed tossing and turning for hours on end. It’s frustrating. I wonder if I’m the only one. I stare at the ceiling, my mind tauntingly alert and my body restless.
I awake the next day at 1, 2PM. I run on a different schedule from the rest of my family. My mum nags at me to wake up earlier. My grandma thinks I’m a slob for sleeping too much.
I don’t know where this is going.
This schedule will be useful when school starts again, when the assignments and projects pile up and sleep is not an option on some nights. But for now, it just makes me feel alienated and withdrawn from the rest of the world. I yawn when others are perky, I come alive when others are winding down. I feel like I need a separate world of my own.
But that world’s in my mind, the very source of my vexations.