untitled*

It’s this time of the day that my mind will eventually drift off to things. things that i don’t want to ponder, but always ending up dwelling on them too much. i honestly hate myself for being a pessimist, but i can’t stop my brain. i don’t have the power to control it. it’s like, yes, it’s inside of me, my head. it’s my own brain. and it’s impossible for me to not control it, but it’s like my brain has its own brain, too. weird, i know, but it’s simple and as complicated as that.

i worry to much. i overthink too much. and i guess it’ll be the death of me. i keep stressing on things that still hasn’t happen yet. before something occurs, my mind is already creating its own hypothesis about it. AND I HONESTLY FUCKING HATE IT. i hate this brain. if i can just donate it then i’m willing to give it to someone who can tolerate it. but i can’t. and i’ll be living with this shit until the day i die.

but there’s a side of me that thinks that every single message that this mind of mine sends throughout me has a point. that worrying is okay. overthinking is okay. stressing about the things that don’t matter is fucking okay.

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