My head is full of crazy ideas, thoughts and ramblings that even I can hardly comprehend. My mind is running at a million miles a minute, and it never slows down. Thoughts about people, death, hope, the future, love. Everything. Sometimes I just want to lie down, stare at my ceiling, and forget it all, if only for a moment. All the thoughts knocking at my door, screaming through the wood, picking the lock. And I think to myself, where do they come from? Why are they here? Because I need to know, I suppose. I need to ask questions, I need to get answers. Yet most of them stay locked up in my head, fighting their way out, until I scribble them down on a piece of scrap paper, or type them out on word document, my fingers moving frustratingly slower than my steady stream of thought. Except, as I write them down, more creep into my head, seeping in between the cracks, tapping on the window panes, seeking a way in. It's a tedious process, until they make their way through my head, and settle on the floor, waiting patiently amongst the others, just waiting to be spewed out onto paper, so another can take its place amongst the chaos.
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