Overwhelmed is when your head starts bopping and your eyes start seeing red. And you just wanna be in bed. But you chose to be here instead.
My stress starts popping, and the funs not stopping, at least it’s fun for them. They don’t even feel a bit condemned. That they’re attacking me within. Stacks of clutter piling in my heart.
Stacks and stacks clattering in my mind. I pray to God when this will end, and he says that things take time. That this can be my chance to really shine.
And I can take back what was stolen mine.
Like my piece of peace that’s worth more than a dime, that’s too expensive to give away, that will make me not lay awake, so I decide to write down my thoughts,
and give it in God’s waiting hands, and I meditate: he understands. And all of my calculated plans are deteriorating bit by bit like pile of grains in the sand.