Stirrings

Doubts swam against gravity. Upwards.
Rising from the pit of the stomach to the throat.
Choking. By choice.
A bitter taste.
Nostrils flared, snottingly. defiantly. By choice.

When I was younger, I used to think that it would be marvellous to have the ability to read people's mind.
If there was one superpower I could possess, it would definitely be mind-reading.
Now that I think of it... was I stupid or was I stupid??

Why would anyone want to read another person's mind?
Isn't one's own thoughts horrifying enough?
The clashings, lashings, bashings. Vehement, cruel thoughts. Sinister, shameful secrets. Anger, jealousy, pain, fear, melancholy...
The heart is diseased. If we would avoid physical diseases, why attempt to uncover and pursue mental, emotional sickness?
Was I inane or was i senseless?

I also cringe to think how appalled and disgusted a mind-reader would be, if he/she stumbles upon my evil thoughts.
My thoughts are my own. My fears, shame, anger are for me and me alone.
Don't leak noxious poison and fumes

What you don't know can't hurt you.
Ignorance is an absolute bliss. It protects , defends , caresses and comforts this tumultuous, weak, pathetic little mind.