“Stinking Thinking” is how Pete Townshend described some of the writings in Kurt Cobain’s collection of journals released in 2002. He described the term as one of the steps a drug addict goes through on his road to recovery.
When I look inwardly, I wonder if I am in stuck in a similar, perpetually negative thought cycle; my own neverending “Stinking Thinking” phase, where the only way out is to end it all.
Is it karmatic influence keeping me chained in darkness, or is it muscle memory – pathways etched in he brain, reinforced again and again over time?
Is it a deity from above dispensing punishment for past sins, or is it a universal correction – simple physics putting me into balance with the universe, like a magnet held with its north end facing another, certain to flip into equilibrium?
Does the world stage play a part? Maybe I don’t see enough kittens being rescued from trees on the nightly news. Perhaps that documentary I watched on the Holocaust was too much for this fragile soul to ingest.
If a person’s eyes are the windows to his soul, could my soul have developed PTSD from all the horrible media I have taken in?
It could be the chemicals in the food. It might be the wireless signals that are hurting the bees. Vitamin D deficiency?
Is answering the question of why my thinky is stinky even helpful? What if there’s nothing I can do?
A wise man once told me not to let my depression become my comfort zone. I assumed that statement was wise, for he was wise, but now I’m not so sure. How can something that is inherently uncomfortable become a comfort zone?
Welcome to my “Choose your own adventure” novel entitled, “Loser Unemployed Blogger Contemplates His Next Move”.
Should I reincarnate as someone/something new or stick it out here for the next 30-40 years?