Conquering my thoughts as they release into the river bubbles. I am bewitched by the view ever changing, evanescent, ever bubbling.
I see these bubbles as my brain when I am overthinking. Stuck in the flow, always there, never going anywhere; disappearing, reappearing.
Each bubble representing the doubt, which I have to remind myself I am not. I am not my thoughts. I see the rest of the river flow, sometimes fast, sometimes slow.
It grows in the months to come. Grand and full, as the rains come. It will swallow these bubbles, these thoughts. shallowing the rocks above.
I am the river. The bubbles my doubt, my thoughts. I am not the bubbles. I am not. I am deeper. I am the river, the current the strength that carries across the miles.
I am not the not that my thoughts would like to plot.
I have escaped my thoughts.