Of thinking too much

So it's a little past 8 AM here on Sunday morning. I'm lying on my stomach in bed, staring outside my window at the sunlight hitting the tops of buildings and shadowing streets where cold people walk faster into the warmth. I'm trying to think of what it is I ate last night that is making my stomach feel this way, like a wrench stuck in the tumble dry. The only conclusion I can make is that I've created knots; I've physically tied my organs together because I cannot let go of worry, amongst a whole conundrum of intangibilities (yes I realize that is not a real word). The worst, I suppose, is that I have to qualify why I feel this way. And when I'm done carving out the insides and peeling the skin of logic, it becomes mildly apparent that I, all too fast, sacrifice my body to paranoia. I give my mind and the limbs it controls up to a feeling I get, a single emotion, a thought process. Is it just another manifestation of the person I really am? Do I have to be doing this because I trust my emotions before I trust other people? Sometimes that fine line between logic and emotion gets blurred, like rubbed pencil marks on a sheet of notebook paper where you are told to discover yourself, lest life discover you first. Still, the question remains of how to deal. The old receptors of comfort are completely out of the question- no more getting fucked up because I want to feel good. The one who knows me better than I know myself says to take these little acorns and talk through them, outloud, to the one who shook the branches in the first place. While that tactic is always a hit or miss, it is probably the right one, and in the end I am handing over the power of controling uncertainty to someone else. But me, knowing me, and knowing that I don't really think things through in terms of logic, will choose the path I should have probably been following all along, until things like laziness, trips to Mexico, and this crazy thing called the internet that ruins lives became the ruins of failed attempts at peace. Be mindful, be completely engaged, and don't run away from my problems. Don't run away from my worries. Just don't run away this time. Live my life honestly, and continue to start from the heart. It's gotten me this far already, and I have to trust that it will get me up and out of this hole I've dug for myself. Live in the Now. Because paranoia involves events that have happened, and apprehension for events that might not even come true. Human beings will always never know what human beings are thinking, unless it's the thought process that happens in our own skull. That's the only thing we can control, right? Still. The feeling of a feeling taking me over will always be the precurser of why I can't get the fuck out of bed.