ten thoughts deep

this is the tenth thought now.

it's been about five days since i started this garden. every day, creating a new thought. i don't know what i feel about it. i don't feel necessarily happy, but i'm not tired of it either.

but at some point, it's hard to find new things to write about when you have nothing on your mind.

so what do i do? i simply sit there. yes, i do nothing, until there's an idea.

it's early in the morning. i sat here for 30 minutes and couldn't think of what to write. so i'm just writing about being unable to find something to write about.

weird, right?

but when i think about it - who would care to read this exact thought? if you are, you must be really bored, no? or is it just interesting to see how i write what i think?

i wonder what people around me would think if they found out about this. would it change anything? would they see me differently?

i guess i'd only find out if that ever happens.

but it's weird. i definitely act completely different outside this garden of thoughts. i don't know what this feeling is. maybe i'm just able to express what i really think here?

maybe that's what this space is for - the thoughts that don't have a place anywhere else. the 3am wondering, the morning emptiness, the random frustrations that feel too small to matter but too real to ignore.

ten thoughts deep and i'm already questioning everything. the process, the purpose, the people who might stumble across these scattered pieces of my mind.

but here's the thing - even when i have "nothing" to write about, something always emerges. like right now. this nothingness became something.

maybe that's the point. maybe the garden doesn't need every thought to be profound or polished. maybe some thoughts are just... thoughts. existing for the sake of existing.

like proof that i was here, thinking, even when there wasn't much to think about.

especially when there wasn't much to think about.

i might never know who reads this, or why, or what they think of these glimpses into the quiet corners of my mind.

but they're here now. floating in the digital void. waiting to be discovered.

or not.

either way, the garden grows.