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the distant sound of a lawnmower on a lazy afternoon mingles with the chirping of crickets / it was like a slice of small town americana / i spent these days with my notepad / writing down my thoughts & emotions / trying to make sense of the chaos inside my mind — almost as if my mind needs to get it all out on paper or else it’ll explode / many things are happening in my mind lately / & i need to put them all down in my notepad /
my pen glides across the page / tracing over the blank space & filling it with my thoughts as my hand begins to cramp up a little / the warm breeze drifts through the open window in my room / bringing the sweet scent of peaches and apples /
instinct is a strange concept– it’s like knowing something without understanding why you know it / maybe it’s because we’re born with a certain instinctual wisdom that warns us of danger and guides us away from harm /
but what if there’s more to it than that?
what if there’s something deeper / something metaphysical?
what if there’s a reason why some people just seem to know certain things / why we sometimes get gut feelings about certain people or situations?
could it be that we’re all part of some vast inter-connected web of consciousness? could it be that our so-called “instincts” are like little whispers from a higher dimension / telling us what to do in order to survive?
i stare out the window for a moment / the sun is starting to set & the air has a calming chill to it as i realize how much time has passed since i started writing / i shake my head and shake away the random thoughts / maybe i was just being overly philosophical today / i’m starting to get sleepy from all this writing / so maybe i should give my head a break . .
