My mind loves to complicate things.

It needs more, wants more, freaks out, runs wild, makes up stories, and so much more.

It weaves complicated webs of distortion.

It spins fascinating tales.

It drums up drama.

It whispers worries.

It loves doing its thang.

And sometimes it keeps me from doing mine.

Who would I be if my monkey mind weren’t running the show?

I mean, really?

Who would I be?

In love and liminality,

Annie Rose