I sat. And as I sat. I thought. And as I thought. I felt. I felt things that made me think more. So I thought more. I thought about the way the sun is so hot that if our planet was a millimeter closer, we wouldn’t be here. I thought about the way a clock ticks. And ticks. And ticks. And ticks. It keeps ticking without giving up. I thought about how people say “I’m fine,” but they’re not even fine. Because slit wrists and blackened eyes isn’t the definition of fine. And I thought about me. The way my red hair is at an awkward length, so it curls around my ears. The way my hands shake just the slightest from all the nicotine and anti-depressants in my body. The way I smile like a dang fool when I think of that one guy that I know I have no chance with. The way I furrow my brows because how dare you say that s*** to me?

   Thinking. Thinking. Thinking. Thinking. Please stop thinking. These thoughts in my brain! About the sun. The clock. People. Me.  Me with my shaking hands, me with my red hair, me with my nicotine and pills, me with my hopeless love for him.

   Wait but how can you stop a thought when it’s literally the only thing there?