Time Zones

What consumes me?

The nagging of the past, the pressure of the future, and the constant frustration of an impossible task : quieting my mind. To cope I try to remind myself that simple does not mean easy.

Thoughts, thoughts, thoughts. Too many thoughts.

If the past is something that can only exist when brought to the present, then why does it feel so real?

If everything is a construct of the mind then what is the point?

Trying to be happy means keeping my mind in the right time zone : the present.

The present feels impossible to grasp with all these thoughts. A jumble of all the words in my head. Simple does not mean easy.