Guess not. Maybe it’s not loud enough. Although some days, it could drive me mad. It’s not just there during the night. It’s there when I brush my teeth in the morning, when I stare into the mirror, when I make my coffee. And it only gets worse. Some days, I forget what I’m doing. I think about that book I didn’t buy in the bookstore, about the stray cat I met on the way to the park a week ago, about the million ways I could die. And then I’d snap out of it. I realize I’m in my room. I’m looking for my glasses. And they’re on my head. Where have I been?

Can one go about their day without a single thought? Sounds nice. But is it possible? Maybe not. When I used to meditate and do yoga, I tried to focus on my breathing, my movements. And there it was. “What should I have for dinner?”, “Will it rain tonight?”, “When will I die?”. I just can’t stop it. And it’s tiring. And there’s a thought that I hate most. All the things I could’ve done. Or worse. Those I should’ve. The first day of college. I should’ve talked more to my classmates. My first flight alone. I should’ve eaten breakfast before it. And to live. I should’ve at least tried. When does it ever stop? I don’t think it does. Or ever will.

I guess that’s not all there is to it though. A thought could be beautiful. A thought could be so good that I dance around to it. A thought could feed you for days without needing any more. It comes in the shape of an idea. Creativity. A thought could be a process in creating things. A thought could be in writing, in an image, a picture. It’s there when I draw. Or when I sing. A thought’s put in all of that. When I look at the painting I finished, I see me. I see the story behind it and why I made it. That’s a thought. And when others see it, they’d have their own thoughts about it, too.

Maybe this time I’d lay in bed with the thought of a next project, or maybe what type of paint I should use for it. You could do so much from a simple thought. You could create something out of it. Grow. Learn.