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what it’s like to be an overthinker

If overthinking was a sport, I would win every single time. Or so my friends tell me.

I’m famous for being unable to multitask. For example, I absolutely cannot talk and write at the same time. But, my friends/peers can. That’s the thing. They can multitask physically. I can multitask mentally. Don’t know what I’m talking about?

Okay, so basically, all overthinkers think simultaneously. It’s hard to describe. Like, right now, I’m overthinking about overthinkers and how I’m one of them, while also overthinking about school and academia, while also overthinking about supernatural, while also overthinking about poetry ideas, while also overthinking about the lock-down, while over thinking about one direction, etc. You get the drill. With overthinkers, you can’t just overthink one thing at a time, you have to overthink about multiple things at the same time.

And that’s why overthinkers worry a lot. Give me anything, any situation, I can worry to the point it gets ridiculous. Every word someone says, overthinkers can analyze them to the point it wouldn’t make sense to a normal person.

For instance, I keep thinking about this one phrase my English teacher said, “Think correctly.” It bugs me so much, ’cause English is a language of interpretation, no matter how literal or ridiculous, and there is no “correct” way of thinking. Ethical, yes. Correct, no. And I can bet you, my classmates probably don’t even remember that my English teacher even said something like that.

I asked my friends, “when you think of me, what’s the first thing that comes to your brain?”

And one of them said and I quote, “You are a worrier. You may not like to or maybe you do, I don’t know but you worry. About the most trivial to the most signigicant of things.”

Another one of them said, “You are an overthinker. You think a lot, analyze every single thing. Also when people say that they get the other side/story of the situation, they don’t. But you do. And you understand people. And people don’t realize it but you do understand them. ” To this, I asked her, “Then, how come no one particularly likes me?” She said, “You understand them, the truth about them. Some people don’t want to hear it. Also, understanding people doesn’t mean that you connect with them. They might not like the fact that you understand them.”


Dear normal people who don’t understand overthinkers,

we never realize that we’re overthinkers. Until…we do. And then, we overthink the fact that we’re overthinkers. (People who claim to be overthinkers usually aren’t. ‘Cause ovethinking is not as cool as some like to think.)

We’ve been told we worry a lot, we over analyze the tiniest of things, etc.

If we meet a new person, we analyze their clothes, their most evident quality, their behavior and body language, while thinking of what to say, how to stand, some good jokes, while thinking of statistical probability, physics, poetry, the universe, while thinking of that one embarrassing moment that happened years ago, while obsessing over music and aesthetics, while having philosophical revelations, while thinking of what to wear. (Disclaimer: THIS IS JUST AN EXAMPLE.)

Yep. That’s the life.

People think it’s something we can stop. As if, it’s not a part of us, just like our eyes or our nose. People think that we just have to stop thinking. If it were as simple as that, overthinkers would not exist. Sure, we can choose what to think, but we can’t choose how much we think.

Overthinking is something we can’t help. The tiniest of words, the tiniest of intentions have to be analyzed or we won’t find peace. And people don’t realize how something they did unintentionally eats away at us. Some times, we’re honestly surprised that our heads don’t burst from the overload of thoughts.

There are things that we’re over emotionally and yet we still overthink them. There are also things we’re not over emotionally and we overthink them too. Ovethinking is not a choice.

But one thing, you can count on is that usually, when we make a statement, we have (USUALLY) thought out all sides of a scenario, even the most unlikely opinions and then shared our take on it. It’s not called being argumentative (as many teachers like to call us). It’s not called arguing for the sake of it. We like to think of it as a clash of ideas, playing around with them, finding new theories. And yes, it might get annoying, but that’s our playtime, so please bear with us.. (To be honest, school is playtime for us. True learning is done from life.)

Regards,

the overthinkers

The price you pay for being born an overthinker is being devoid of the power to truly let go. Because, what you think of, you haven’t let go of, not really.

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cOnfUseD yEt?

Practice doesn’t make a man perfect. But it sure does make a man tired.

Krishna Chaitanya (My Classmate)

Hi. So. Ummm. Hi.

These past few days, I wanted to take a break from life. Die. Then come back to life to see who actually cared. You know, the usual.

Let’s get on with this post. Nobody’s perfect. Perfection doesn’t exist. Or so we think. See, in life, everything is a paradox. You think that reality is something that exists. But, it is something that we perceive to exist. Because that is my perception on reality, I perceive reality to be something that we perceive. It’s messy business. Then again, the universe is a messy business. The universe is chaotic. And in that chaos, we find order. So finally is the universe chaotic or orderly or chaotically-ordered or ordered-chaotically? See? Complicated mess. Or simplified complexity? Or complex-simplicity?

Sorry. I’ll stop now. So, as I was telling (writing), perfection doesn’t exist. Or so we think. We are all imperfect. And we are perfect at being imperfect. So, technically, we are all perfect. But we are perfect at being imperfect. So, technically, we are all imperfect. So, the oxymoron perfectly imperfect is true. It’s not an oxymoron because it’s true. But it’s also an oxymoron because, perfect and imperfect are contradicting each other. So, technically, it is an oxymoron and isn’t an oxymoron at the same time. So we are perfect and imperfect at the same time. And perfectly imperfect is an oxymoron and not an oxymoron at the same time.

I don’t know if this makes sense. But it does make sense if thought about. So, this whole thought has sense and is senseless at the same time.

Confused yet? Welcome to my blog, where my sole purpose is to confuse you. Joking. Or am I?

Thank you for reading my confusing post.

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and then, there was this life

“What is life?”

“It is spontaneity in randomness. “

Hello mankind.

In the year of 2019, on a Sunday, dated 17th November, at 19:38 to be precise, a teenager with exactly 5061 days of life started writing her blog. It was a life changing event. For the first time in her 13 years, she believed that there was magic running through her veins. That her soul was comprised of victory. That she was truly free, for she controlled her mind as well as her emotions and feelings. She may not have lived long, but she knew that there was something in her that made her as old as the universe. Like she had experienced everything. Like she had once, long ago won in this experiment, we call life.

I am a poetic person. I hope you’ll excuse my dramatics. But my dramatics are only limited to my writing. In real life, I avoid drama to the point where I would literally die rather than gossip about people.

I refer to life as an experiment and here is why. It is a simple philosophy and everything that I’ve learnt from observing the trends in others’ lives just adds to my theory. We could do everything right, and it could all go wrong. Or, we could do everything wrong and it could all go right. Life’s unpredictable. The truth is that we cannot control life. And I, being the control freak I am, find pleasure in control. That is why, life scares me. Something, so uncertain, I could not come close to even liking. But the irony is that, I’ve always been attracted to everything that scares me. I have always been and presently am fascinated by my fears. Losing control is my fear. Life is chaotic. Life is randomness. Life is uncontrollable. And I am obsessed with figuring it out.

I’m an amateur in the world of blogging and I have no idea how else to introduce my ideas to the world. As I see it, I have to introduce myself before I introduce my ideas.

Dear reader, I thank you for taking the time to read this.

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