Suffocation

I stand in a frenzy. Stillness is upon my face. Inside of me
I have begun to go manic. Bouncing off the thoughts that
rage inside of me, one wall to the other, back and forth,
gaining momentum as they pop against me, like a pinball
machine. As quickly as the initial thought is released, the
rest of them begin and there is no longer any control. I am
at the whim of my own brain. Peace and serenity and just the
quiet repose of my senses have pushed way down into my toes
and fingertips. I know this because I can feel them tingling. The
anxiety has begun to rise and I will shortly become impulsive
and compulsive and will destroy any sense of stability that I have.
The truth that I generally live in will become a lie and as that
tall story blossoms and grows, my sense of self will retreat to an idea
of me I have put to rest a long time ago.
I have deprived myself of the presence of the moment and will
now suffer the waves of consequential suffering, by overlooking the
solution of one moment of meditation, until I realize that I must
come back into my body.
I begin to pinch myself in order to wake myself out of the
destructive trance. I slow my breathing and begin to reconnect
to now. The sensations in my fingers begin to come alive and
I can feel my limbs rooting themselves to my core and my core
shining positive energy. All at once, I am love again and fear is
back in its cage. These twinklings of deprivation used to be as big
as mountains and despite their overwhelming power at times,
they’re really not more than speed bumps. Speed bumps I can just
roll over.

Deprive

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