Meteor Lines Inside My Brain.
These flashes of thoughts stab me in a second with the brightest sharpness.
Shards in the sky like meteors — but inside my brain.
They slice, they spark, they multiply.
And suddenly the race begins.
My radio has been the loudest it has ever been.
The thoughts tear through me like F1 cars,
each one fighting to cross a finish line that dissolves
into an infinite maze.
Race all you want.
I’m blasting my favorite heartbreak album, Ex:Re.
I’m as broken as she’s trying to tell us —
the desperation, the urgency. I hear you.
It’s been weeks of this.
My brain refusing silence, so I feed it work,
projects piled on projects until I crash.
Noise feels safer than stillness.
Get Spiral Patterns’s stories in your inbox
Join Medium for free to get updates from this writer.
I can’t.
I can’t.
I can’t surrender to every voice,
every thought, every idea.
The race loops endlessly on repeat.
So I run.
I deafen myself.
I inhale an escape —
and at least briefly,
the radio is mine.
But sometimes I wonder
what would happen if I turned it off.
With every beat, every vibrating string,
it goes faster and faster
until it all stops for just. One. Second.
And then it all comes rushing down.
And so now I’m here again —
after weeks of torment.
