What thought’s are thought?

It'll find what it wants is what my mind says to the heart and heart says to gut hurry finish eating you have a job and gut says to mind tell heart to do my job I'm not satisfied. It’s a circle that only soul can break but soul needs time to find the thin spot to cut in that thick line. That’s why I stay confused my thoughts do not branch from a tree but grow as a single weed. Individually they grow all over this world; to figure me out is to understand each. Although I do cry when I’m sad and I smile when I’m happy, sometimes those may not be my true feelings. I love what can not be loved I hate none for I lost that part of me. My mind wonders the world but never leaves my head. Mysteries unveiled through time and space but mostly inside of me. I find new things to talk about new mysteries to sole new loves to love. I try to understand what I have learned but at truths end I am truly dumb at heart as is all my fellow friends who feel what I feel. If there are indeed any that even think as me. I rush to tell my hearts story of love but what about my other parts shouldn't they get a chance to tell their side in this controversial world. My soul wants to speak just as my mind does and what of my proclivity does it merely just eat or has it something to say as well. A mystery to be solved one I can not; though I try till it is, but that day may never come. Finding it will be a hard thing to do. What of me shall happen to be loved but my lust for all time full of things that shall not be said?