DonttrustanyonE
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- Aug 31, 2015
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What Do I Worry About?
My income adding to my luxurious pension which doesn’t exist? No. What I’m going to have for dinner tonight because I forgot to buy bread and was planning on having toast? Hardly. When my friends will eventually turn on me because that’s the type of people they are? Not even close.
I worry about the birds and how eventually they might not be able to fly. How the sky gradually might turn grey. How the monster underneath my bed might eat me. How the clouds might get too happy and never dispose rain.
I forget about the real ‘problems.’ Like the terrorists attacking Australia because we refuse to delve into economic trade with them. Like how Queensland is flooding and might fail to exist. Like how my mother will eventually succumb to the light because the cancer ate all of her life source.
I try to forget all that.
I like looking at happy things that make me smile instead of cry. The birds when they sing, children when they laugh and the snarls of neighbours angry at the sight of day. Those are the very few things I look forward to. I never turn around to look back, to stare at my past.
It’s over…there’s nothing I can change.
After a few years, my values readjusted. I no longer worry about how the sky might turn grey because it’s inevitable. I don’t worry about the clouds not disposing rain, because I know that they wouldn’t let humanity die. I don’t worry about how the birds might not be able to fly, because I know that with extra help I could manufacture wings for them.
I still worry about the monster underneath my bed though, scheming to rip me apart and eat my broken bones and scattered flesh.
But underneath all that…what do I really worry about?
How my mother died and left our father broke smothered in tears of regret? No. How Australia is slowly crumbling because the terrorists attacked leaving our prized buildings in pieces? Not really. How my favourite animal has just become extinct? Not even close.
I worry about how I might lose this ongoing card game as I don’t have any aces left. I worry about everything going dark because I forget to pay my electricity bills despite having the money for it. I worry about the birds forgetting to sing as they’ve lost their gorgeous voices.
People say I worry about stupid things. Things I shouldn’t be worrying about.
This is my resolve. Placing my worry into something that doesn’t have meaning. Placing worry into something that keeps our world pure and peaceful.
Realistically what can I worry about? I’m already dead…
There is nothing left to worry about…
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Credits to respectful owner (Y)
My income adding to my luxurious pension which doesn’t exist? No. What I’m going to have for dinner tonight because I forgot to buy bread and was planning on having toast? Hardly. When my friends will eventually turn on me because that’s the type of people they are? Not even close.
I worry about the birds and how eventually they might not be able to fly. How the sky gradually might turn grey. How the monster underneath my bed might eat me. How the clouds might get too happy and never dispose rain.
I forget about the real ‘problems.’ Like the terrorists attacking Australia because we refuse to delve into economic trade with them. Like how Queensland is flooding and might fail to exist. Like how my mother will eventually succumb to the light because the cancer ate all of her life source.
I try to forget all that.
I like looking at happy things that make me smile instead of cry. The birds when they sing, children when they laugh and the snarls of neighbours angry at the sight of day. Those are the very few things I look forward to. I never turn around to look back, to stare at my past.
It’s over…there’s nothing I can change.
After a few years, my values readjusted. I no longer worry about how the sky might turn grey because it’s inevitable. I don’t worry about the clouds not disposing rain, because I know that they wouldn’t let humanity die. I don’t worry about how the birds might not be able to fly, because I know that with extra help I could manufacture wings for them.
I still worry about the monster underneath my bed though, scheming to rip me apart and eat my broken bones and scattered flesh.
But underneath all that…what do I really worry about?
How my mother died and left our father broke smothered in tears of regret? No. How Australia is slowly crumbling because the terrorists attacked leaving our prized buildings in pieces? Not really. How my favourite animal has just become extinct? Not even close.
I worry about how I might lose this ongoing card game as I don’t have any aces left. I worry about everything going dark because I forget to pay my electricity bills despite having the money for it. I worry about the birds forgetting to sing as they’ve lost their gorgeous voices.
People say I worry about stupid things. Things I shouldn’t be worrying about.
This is my resolve. Placing my worry into something that doesn’t have meaning. Placing worry into something that keeps our world pure and peaceful.
Realistically what can I worry about? I’m already dead…
There is nothing left to worry about…
-
-
Credits to respectful owner (Y)