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My brain doesn’t shut off.

It’s an anxious thing, creating stories from nothing, making a fake life I am living in tandem with the one I am living in now. It holds my hand, it gives me love, it gives me a new home, it gives me a new place to imagine living in. It is my constant companion: assessing and reassessing everything. And once it has done that, it’ll assess it all over again. It’s complicated and it never ends.

I don’t run, but I want to. I walk. I nearly jog. But I don’t run. I’ve nearly gotten to that point but stalled out – stopped. Like a lot of things I’ve done, really. I don’t run, but I need to. So I go out everyday and play up the music and I try.

I try because running, walking, jogging is the only thing that really shuts my head down without me falling asleep. Meditation is good – but motion is better. It begins with the loud sounds of my conciousness. The doubts, the fears, the hopes, the dreams. Once those are thought over and over and over again it moves onto the fake lives, the stories, the characters and the plots and I don’t mind those either.

But if I keep going, keep going, keep going, keep going I hit a point of silence. Nothing but feet and pavement. The sound of breath moving in and out of my lungs. Nothing but feeling myself getting stronger and stronger.

And it’s like my brain is quiet. At least for a little while, my brain is quiet. It’s like I can finally get some peace. Sweat sticky in my clothes, but, peace. And for that kinda peace, I gotta remember, I will try.