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SATIRICAL OPEN LETTERS
An Open Letter to the Woman Trying to Meditate
You call it mediation. I call it the silent treatment.
Dear Sally
You breathe in and out. In and out. You close your eyes and try to focus on your breathing. Only I am not going to let you, because I really hate this game. You call it mediation. I call it the silent treatment. And you are robbing me of my sole purpose in life — to think.
I’m a high caliber machine. I’m the brains behind this whole operation. I churn out roughly 70,000 thoughts a day. That’s 35 new thoughts a minute.
I’m a Lamborghini. Hear me roar. And you don’t want to slow me down or get in my way. Because the more you do, the more random shit I will throw into your head. Believe me.
Now you’ve closed your eyes. You are breathing slowly. You are trying to find your inner peace. So, I say, let the games begin.
You turn your focus to your heartbeat.
Well, you try. Because, I say, not today my friend.
I come your way with a stream of random thoughts.
Let me tell you about Doris who is cheating on her husband.
