A Thought: The Brilliance of No Thoughts

This is, at its very core, about unfiltered, unco-opted, the purest form of self love, the kind that embraces you in warmth and light, coolness and darkness, all at once. This is, at its very core, about stillness, both being and not being, holding multiple conflicting realities in your outstretched arms and legs, the same way you tried to catch a basketball that summer 20 years ago.

This is about wrinkles, or the lack of it, in the vast universe between the ears, where ideas are sashaying and conspiracies are, well, conspiring, and the image of you with that failed haircut dwells in between its on-screen appearances. 

It’s often difficult to conceptualize

the possibility of not conceptualizing.

It’s often difficult to imagine

the possibility of not imagining.

Yet the act of allowing

the public park behind my eyes to close,

for a brief moment,

is liberation to me. 

Liberation from reality,

liberation from nightmares,

liberation from the very wrinkles crawling across my brain

that were once my most proud possessions,

proof of my abilities and talents.

No wrinkles,

no grooves,

no deep trenches.

Not in my brain,

not in my soul.

Just a moment of smoothness,

a moment of rest.

A sigh of relief.

The joy of not being,

not reading,

not seeing,

not hearing,

no gerunds at all,

even for a second,

as you thrust forward

into a quietly delightful unknown.