Lost Thoughts

I once read somewhere that on average we have about 70,000 thoughts per day.

That’s a lot of thoughts for one brain. About 48 thoughts per minute.

Thoughts float in through the holes of my ears. Through the pores of my skin. Through the creases of my eyes. Take on my exterior and are absorbed. They move with the spell of the wind from the outside world and into my soul. Thoughts wrap and weave themselves through my body. Around my bones and around my organs. Flow into my bloodstream and become a part of me.

I have thoughts about things. Things like what will I eat for lunch? Or why my bedroom wall is a shade of pastel pink. Or how aeroplanes float in the sky. Or how glow in the dark stickers glow in the dark. Thoughts about my alarm clock. Its passive aggressive dingdong breaking my dreams. I have thoughts about my dreams. And the make-believe I dream. I have thoughts about the world, human beings and thoughts that we should be nicer to the planet and nicer to each other. I have thoughts about books, and thoughts that come from reading. I have thoughts about make-up, about clothes and about boys. I have thoughts about the internet and its overwhelming existence. Thoughts about the past, about the present and about my elaborate future.

But 70,000 thoughts are a lot of thoughts to think. A lot to keep in the particles of my brain. So where do they go when I cannot remember them anymore? Are they lost? It makes me sad when I think about all my thoughts that are lost. Are they scared to be alone?

They leave my body and are taken by the air.

But not all of my thoughts are lost. Why is it that the thoughts that choose to stay are the bad ones? And the good ones go. I wish that instead of taking all my good thoughts the air would take the bad. The bad about what I look like, the bad that I’m not good enough, the bad about my clothing, the bad about my feelings.