I'd like to watch paint dry.
I'd like to watch it dry and
Think of nothing but how it's
Less and less wet as
Time passes.
I'd like to be able to clear my
Head like that.
And if I could do just that,
Perhaps I wouldn't be writing this
At 12:35 in the morning
In a moment where
I can't sleep because
My thoughts run so quickly that
The time never passes that would
Dry the paint.
The time never passes so
I can leave this horrible
State of thinking
And thinking
And thinking.
There's nothing to think of
When everything's fine, no?
When really
Nothing is wrong,
Nothing and more nothing
And more creating my own
Enemies in myself.
Nothing sucks more than
Having what you want
And continuously almost
Ruining it because
You have what you want.
Because you were busy
Thinking and
You were shrinking into
An undried droplet of
Paint sticky to the touch
Not dried and rough
Like it could be
If only my thinking
Would stop.
But I can't stop it.
So now it's 12:50 AM and
I'm awake from
More problems that
Don't exist and never did.
Never did have truth
Through its ruthless
Draining of the good mood
I had left
That has left me
Expressionless and useless
And expressions we use sometimes,
Most times, maybe almost
All times don't ring true,
But if it meant I would
No longer have to
Spend my nights staring at the
Wall in dear hopes of
Its blankness rubbing off
On my thoughts then
fuck yes
I would absolutely rather
watch that damn paint dry.