This talks about how our wandering thoughts consume our time. It’s amazing how the mind works. OP wrote his/her abt anxiety in a clean and understandable way. Hope you’re okay, OP!

I know this place. I call it The Nothing. Like from The Neverending Story. It makes everything go from color to greyscale. It reverses my belief system into a negative of itself. It is an false truth, but feels so fucking real. It absolutely will turn paradise into hell. It is only a state of mind. It is not everything. It just tricks me into thinking it is. We all must figure out how to fight The Nothing or live in its shadow world. And frankly, I refuse. Fuck you, Nothing.


Hello readers, welcome to OCpoetry. This subreddit is a writing workshop community -- a place where poets of all skill levels can share, enjoy, and talk about each other's poetry. Every person who's shared, including the OP above, has given some feedback (those are the links in the post) and hopes to receive some in return (from you, the readers).

If you really enjoyed this poem and just want to drop a quick comment, to show some appreciation or give kudos, things like "great job!" or "made me cry", or "loved it" or "so relateable", please do. Everyone loves a compliment. Thanks for taking the time to read and enjoy.

If you want to share your own poem, you'll need to give this writer some detailed feedback. Good feedback explains from your point of view what it was like to read the poem, and then tries to explain how the poem made you feel like that. If you're not sure what that means, check out our [feedback guide](https://new.reddit.com/r/ocpoetry/wiki/feedbackcritiques), or look 

I think this shows how thinking isn't a way to solve our problems, sometimes it's a trap that spirals us into a deep abyss of worries and worse.

>Why do I feel so trapped…not distraught?

This really hit me. Sometimes when you don't know what to do, you just keep thinking, about how it'll be ok, but will it actually be ok? The way you phrased it really makes a statement, especially how you trailed it off.

>Find me paradise and I’ll always tell you it’s hell

I can't really understand what you mean by this line, I'm assuming it's about how possible solutions seem to lead to nothing? That's how I've interpreted it at least.  


All in all, it's a great poem and I hope you keep composing :>

I sympathize. 

This is also me at 3am just thinking about things I can and can't control, sometimes despair and sometimes optimism. 

Eventually my thoughts drown me to sleep and when I do sleep, its un-soundly. 

But it is still sleep, right? 

&#x200B;

Anyway, 10/10. I love this work as I feel every word in this work.

I love the concept, the fluidity and flow is very strong in the beginning but trails off slightly toward the end but the use of language regardless is very amicable.

I like this, and while others have perceived this as just getting lost in one’s thoughts, I saw it as a dialogue with the despair and hopelessness of deep seeded depression. 

“The spike of motivation” kind of confuses me. Actually, I guess it comes down to the word “spike”. This line and the one following speak to the lack of motivation that accompanies a depression panic attack. For me, it’s like I know I should be motivated to get stuff done, but at the same time, it doesn’t really matter if all I’m doing is staring at a wall. 

The last half of this work really spoke to me. The use of descriptive words tells a story of hopelessness and frustration, knowing that you you just can’t break out of the fog. 

If I were being critical, it would be the haphazard use of rhymes. I think this would have been much more impactful if you didn’t have “thought & distraught”. 

All in all, fantastic! This is the joy of poetry; the reader brings their background and experiences into the reading, and

I like this. Very relatable.

I found the overall impression to be quite simple and effective - conveying the feeling of being stuck in one place, caught up in your thoughts and feeling dull to this. I think the simple structure also reminds me of a journal entry, adding to a sense of solitude in this poem - very self contained and not affected by or affecting the outside world (stuck in a self-obsessive depression). 

The title linking to the final line also adds to the sense of being stuck - brings the poem into a circle like the 'circle of despair' describes.

At 3am things either seem infinitely possible or completely doomed, and there’s no in between. It seems there is only room for extremes at that hour. That feeling of being trapped by that revenge bedtime procrastination is so real. It feels that late at night is the only time I can feel freedom but at the same time it’s like a prison in the darkness.

The ponderous mystery of thought

If thinking is supposed to help you

Why do I feel so trapped…not distraught?

The spike of motivation penetrates

Meaningless when running in place

Find me paradise and I’ll always tell you it’s hell

Stuck in this cycle of despair

Tell me when it ends

I’ll keep thinking until then

Drowning in my sea of thoughts

And falling off a mountain

Realizing I’m awake at 3AM

[1](https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/comments/wuiqse/hunger/ilb23b2/?utm_source=share&amp;utm_medium=ios_app&amp;utm_name=iossmf&amp;context=3) [2](https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/comments/wuggzw/my_grandma_who_helped_raise_me_is_dying_of_brain/ilb27jt/?utm_source=share&amp;utm_medium=ios_app&amp;utm_name=iossmf&amp;context=3)

Awake at 3