“It always boils down to the fact that I think too damn much.”
The words faded into the emptiness of the car. She sat in silence for a moment and began to doubt whether she’d actually spoken aloud.
The smell of rain came in through the cracked windows. Asphalt danced with the lingering scent of wet rubber and heated air. Another twenty minutes, and she would be home. Another twenty minutes, and she would be cloaked in the comfort of her own scents in her own bed. Another twenty minutes, and she would be free to sit idly and continue to think.
However, she thought to herself, I don’t want to think.
Thinking led to thoughts, which led to speculation and deliberation over events that would never come to pass nor even present themselves — due only to the fact they had been driven away by the mere idea of their existence. Thoughts, which led to confidence and bravado one moment, yet gave way to doubt and insecurity the next.
In one moment a thought may appear to be a brilliant idea, the birth of a moment made of innocence and truth. Once continued thinking is allowed, the next moment will reveal that very same thought will reveal a darker nature. One of selfish desire, often infused with subtext and ulterior motive.
It is this, then, that strangles the subsequent potential for any direction the hatchling of a thought may have taken if allowed to spread its wings. The true nature of the thought is suffocated, assumed guilty until proven innocent.
True, free spontaneity dead at the hand of thought.