Friday the Fourteenth

from by Think Easy

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lyrics

I've been losing lately. My thoughts are scrambled and hard to hold on to.
I feel like I'm not really feeling
all the things that I say that I am.
And a label won't change things, I know that, but I don't think I'm ready for one.
The confirmation of this would ruin
the only real thing that I have.
So I'm tying my ankles to cinder blocks
and throwing myself into the deep end.
I’m going to tell you how you can fix yourself
when I can't even tell what's wrong with me.
I've seen how the pills work in action
and not knowing means that I'll never need them.
If this disease is contagious, I have it; uncertainty says that I do.

Pay attention and listen for the silence coming from
the pool of broken thoughts I'm in, drowning way too deep.
I've spent the last few weekends wishing for rationale and proof,
and asking myself if I'm really not the same
as I used to be.
There's no evidence to help my stability.
Think about the last thing that I said,
oh god.
Was it nothing that, or everything, I meant to say?
Help me because I've fallen too.

I'm sitting idle in patience.
I'm struggling lately to find
words that can be spoken without ruining everything.
Think of the worst possible outcome and force it by mistake.
I'll cover up the pretense and shroud the opinions with
apologies.
The lights are off and now there's no validity.
Screaming for the people that I've pushed away
by shutting down, ignoring every sentiment.
There's no logic in the thought process.

Critique the thoughts inside my head for lack of making progress.
So unafraid to tell myself it's much worse than it is.
No way the person staring back is my mirror's reflection;
the lifeless eyes, the bags under, oh, I cannot believe.

Reacting to all the spaces
where reasoning should be,
evidently suggesting I've lost my train of thought.
Smothered in the sounds of heavy breathing and sweaty, pulsing palms.
Reach for the light switch again to illuminate the faults
in my head.
Suppress the guilt and hope to ease the looming dread.
Remember what it's like to feel uncomfortable.
Recount the breaths I've taken in the last minute
and take the time to breathe again.

Critique the thoughts inside my head for lack of making progress.
So unafraid to tell myself it's much worse than it is.
No way the person staring back is my mirror's reflection;
the lifeless eyes, the bags under. Oh, I cannot believe
who I've let myself become: a sick self-diagnosis
from symptoms of a silent mouth and the emptiest stare I've got.
Waste my time holding onto assumptions that I've made,
binding me to misery and formulaic lies.

So, I'll sit in self-scrutiny at the top of the stairs
and pretend that something's wrong because it's been perfect for years.
Why do I always ruin the things I find hurt the least?
I can feel it in my body when my head disagrees.
Reassess the implications I've locked up in my head
and let the assumptions fester as I reach out instead
to aggravate the problems. Don't dare tell me I'm wrong.
The words, they just don't stick. The advice just doesn't belong.
Self-medicate with trial upon trial of error,
self-deprecate, self-analyze, self-resistant to care.
Replay the scenario once or twice, just in case,
and pick out all the things that make being near me unsafe.
The silence is so deafening with solutions in mind
to everything substantial while the words stay behind,
and doubt will take over everything I just said
to leave me so depressed because something's wrong with my head.

The street light is burning in my head;
the corner where I ran to hide
from the ghost of everything that said I couldn’t, and all the people that didn't try.
From the start, I underestimated the value of everything that I put in.
Validate me please, just for a second, because sometimes the outcome is worth the sin.
I never wanted to be so calloused, so unaware of how people feel,
but the truth is I'm making progress and soon there will be nothing left to heal.

credits

from The Regular, released June 18, 2016

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Think Easy South Elgin, Illinois

Three sweaty guys from South Elgin, IL who work up a good sweat in small, warm spaces surrounded by more sweaty bodies.

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