Think. Think before you speak. Think before you act. Always think. But don’t think too much.
My head full to the brim with thoughts, ready to burst in a moment. It feels like a prison. I’m trapped in a plastic box with no way out. The walls keep closing in, closer and closer. I’m running out of breath, but I can’t open the window. The hinges are too rusted.
I sit in the middle of the nothingness, a mysterious thick mass wrapping its sweaty hands around me in a lethal embrace. Darkness as black as night surrounds the space. That kind of darkness your eyes don’t adjust to. All the curves and lines dancing in the air form into one big black nothing.
My body can’t repress a shiver as the chilly breeze seeps through my bones. The thoughts come creeping on, haunting me again, no matter where I run. They keep screaming at me, their creepy voices following me wherever I turn.
If there was a window in my head to let some light in, to fill my tired mind with some fresh air, if somebody could draw back those heavy black curtains that tower around me like brick walls and get through the barriers I place around me…
But I can’t be rescued. I’m a victim of my own imagination and nobody will save me from what I created unless I do that on my own.
Thinking is not a crime, but overthinking is.
Here it is, a little piece I wrote, inspired by an InMon prompt (I’m pretty new to that, by the way). I wasn’t sure whether to post it or not, but I decided to give it a try.