My friend ”Anxiety” comes to find me, furrowing his brow, gasping for breath, urging me to hurry up, hurry!
I am walking so slowly, he pulls me, wanting to go forward.
It is the pastexperience that bring him to me. But at this moment I can't see the pastmemories, I only see him. Only at night when I sleep, when my consciousness rests, would the the pastscene reappear.
He says I am in danger.
Sometimes I would listen to him, his urgent warning causing me to stumble forward, not knowing where I am going.
Today, the clouds is thin, the wind is warm. I look around and told myfriend I am safe.
He has accompanied me through so many bumps and potholes, encouraging me to crawl out of the mud. He is my old friend. That's why he appears frequentlyin my peaceful life, there are no longer so many obstacles.
He pulls forcefully at my unmoved self, afraid I would ignore its thoughts.
I smile and pat it, putting it in the pocket over my chest. There, close to my heart, it could hear my deep breaths, feel the warmth of my body temperature.
Anxiety grows tired and falls asleep in my pocket. With a tinkle, it turns into shimmering little particles and flies away...
My friend Anxiety flies away. But I know it will come to find me countless times again,he is my old friend.
I will still carry it with me, put it in my warm pocket, let it rest, let it melt away.
