Most times I can recognize my thoughts for exactly what they are; thoughts.
But every so often my thoughts recognize the weaker parts of me. They cling to frail ridges in my mind and swarm there.
Suddenly there is an abundance of them and I feel trapped behind their barrier.
I see them. I see what they are doing. They're innocent.
This is just the nature of the beast.
But I am not a thought, and I do not belong there.