I do suppose that while I do try and live freely as mentally possible with the whole gamut of OCD, I also really wanna… continue to express my words in a seriously succinct AND, also, off-kilter manner. Rhythmic or not, I really don’t mind. I’m learning all along, is how I feel about it. I’m all in. I let my mind roam and attempt to learn to do its own thing. Old habits die hard, and surely there can truly be no more engrained habit than that of which an OCD mind comes into contact with over time. I don’t have the time for pride of mind. Don’t have the time for anything, really. And that, too, will have to change, of course. What I’ve been through on a mental level is… holy fucking Christ! Comparisons, like I have said before, are futile, really, when it comes to the sake of the sufferer. It’s… yuck, yuck, YUCK. It’s… OCD. It’s a clearcut mental disorder that really does need utter respect and patience from the sufferer. Respect for the biggest, most unasked for **** in the world. One part of it? We do not even get to believe, because of our own brains, quite often that the day that is right in front of us will actually… hmm, come to a conclusion. So the imbalanced OCD brain is, I guess, outlandishly unable to feel EVEN that part, wherein a person’s brain and mind, too, at least know THAT… the day WILL IN FACT run its course, whatever else might happen around it. In one sense, we have timed-out, you could say. We have… been taken entirely away from the normalcy of  experiencing a day for its normal worth. And then… it runs on from that to… being wholly mentally convinced that disaster IS actually happening, and it WILL NOT STOP, which it genuinely won’t, in this particular mental instance FOR US, unless we are ABSOLUTELY able to fix that thing from happening. What we are being tasked with ‘fixing’ is an actual false-firing mechanism of the brain. So, in other words, we are chasing… a distorted brain down a rabbit-hole like NO OTHER. Others will see literally nothing, whereas the sufferer sees, and feels, inexplicable mental brainlock and petrification. Then comes the next part, the next pulverising step, wherein the sufferer’s brain gets mentally distorted and, eventually, lost in its own world of UTTER, UTTER… “what-if??” And the more you feel a need to calm that barking-mad mental imbalance, which anyone would do, of course, the more outrageously caught-up in its grasp you get. OCD is… in a word, all-conquering. So, yeah, you’re trying to conquer it by somehow learning to see it as AN ABSOLUTE WASTE OF MIND. Tasked with kinda trying to literally ignore… hmm, what about ninety-percent of the fundamentally necessary parts of your brain is wrongly informing you of. All of it, while simultaneously waiting in hope, also, for your own mind, with its very own BRAND-NEW thoughts, to come into play. That is one mother ******* odd existence to contend with, and more-so because I’ve been dealing with it since I was eleven-years-old. Like a game that no-one else appears to have been tasked with having to pick up the controls and start playing in the first place. And with no known-of off-button whatsoever. So, yeah, you play. You play at leaving all that imbalance the **** alone xxx