You’re up again, befriending the ceiling, caught in the throes of an overstimulated mind. The hum of thoughts, unrelenting and chaotic, fills the void where feelings once lived. In this haze, clarity is a distant memory, replaced by questions unraveling everything you thought you knew.
The haze thickens—a fog sterilized by indulgence, dulling the sharp edges of reality. Five fans spin above in unison, merging into one dizzying gaze. Faces form in the smoke, haunting and hollow, as if to mock the mind running askew. The trains of thought, once steady and purposeful, now depart in different directions, tethered only by a fragile string lost in the haze.
Raining thoughts galore, lost in the pitter-patter
Jumbled thoughts, word salads on a platter
A maze you cannot conquer or comprehend
Overstimulated brain hit with yet another toxic blend
The mirror holds no answers, only a mask that grows heavier with every passing moment. Who are you beneath it? The lights overhead shine iridescent, casting a surreal glow over your existence. God heard your prayers, they say, but these lights—red, blue, and green—don’t feel divine. They pulse like sirens, a modern twist on holiness, blurring the line between blessing and burden.
The hits keep coming, relentless and unyielding. The shore of sanity drifts further out of reach with every indulgence, every desperate attempt to quiet the overstimulated storm. Trains of thought collide in a catastrophic crash; the tracks, once steady, now dissolve beneath the weight of it all.
Screams of success registering from the radio
Target achieved, pop a bottle,a pill and more
Your overstimulated brain is a brain no more
And as the night stretches on, the cycle repeats, a relentless quest to escape the overstimulation that defines this modern existence. But in the haze, there’s no escape—only the illusion of peace, fleeting and false.