manic ideas

confusion compounds my sentiments. the zenith of my day rises to its close at 3am.

within me my internal maelstrom rages. malevolence mixed with innocence.

thoughts rattle my mind like an angry child shaking a bird cage. i can flutter inside the golden bars that confine me, but i cannot escape.

forever trapped.
forever hunted.
the prisoner of thoughts.
the same thoughts that empower me develop into monsters within my mind.
the thoughts i create break out of my laboratory, mix with the air and take on their own consciousness.
possessed with a fervent and destructive desire far beyond the power of their creator.
brief moments of internal nirvana, my ideas lay before me in perfect clarity. intelligence, passion and love melded into a thought so powerful it no longer needs me, the shell that enabled its inception.
leaving this world with a supernova's light i see only it's afterburn. the orginal is burnt from my mind by the nuclear brightness it leaves behind.
it fades like candy floss melting on a wet tongue.
after the thought, a sense of loss.
like seeing truth. only to later be told it wass just another lie.

I am a conglomerate garbage heap of loose ends—selfish, scared, contemplating... going...anywhere, anywhere, where the burden, the terrifying hellish weight of self-responsibility and ultimate self-judgment is lifted. I can see ahead only into dark, sordid alleys, where the dregs, the sludge, the filth of my life lies, unglorified, unchanged—transfigured by nothing: no nobility, not even the illusion of a dream. Reality is what I make it. That is what I have said I believed. Then I look at the hell I am wallowing in, nerves paralyzed, action nullified—fear, envy, hate: all the corrosive emotions of insecurity biting away at my sensitive guts. Time, experience: the colossal wave, sweeping tidal over me, drowning, drowning. How can I ever find that permanence, that continuity with past and future, that communication with other human beings that I crave? Can I ever honestly accept an artificial imposed solution? How can I justify, how can I rationalize the rest of my life away?

I don't like standing near the edge of a platform when an express train is passing through. I like to stand right back and if possible get a pillar between me and the train.

I don't like to stand by the side of a ship and look down into the water. A second's action would end everything. A few drops of desperation.

nothing left to cry about

if the world could do one truly magnificent thing for me, right now, it would be to make me cry. i am weeping on the inside, but the tears are all gone or simply won't come.i see things in this world that should inspire me to totally lose it, to drop to my knees and make me ask, "why" i see them daily, almost hourly. the parent who snaps angrily at their curious child, the teenaged fool who loses his mind after taking 12 hits of acid in 2 days, the alcoholic who spends his entire day at the bar and then decides to drive home.

i see these things and i don't react. it's not because i'm desensitised to it. on the contrary, i'm writhing in agony within myself because i witness the subtle cruelties we deal ourselves without a second thought.it makes me want to cry, but i can't. i've tried. i'm not concerned about how weak it makes me look or how long such a cry could last. i see these things and i stop and think about them, very carefully. in almost every situation i can see the root fo the problem, the reason for these attrocities. the reasons i come up with may not always be 100% correct, but they're reasonable enough for all the mystery to evaporate. that most powerful of human muscles, the brain, kicks out an answer and all the intrigue and confusion disappears.tears and crying are symptoms of fear and confusion.

the world is dying in some way that i can't put my finger on and here i am, seeing it happen in front of my eyes, and i'm not crying. i'm just sitting back and watching the show, recording it.
perhaps I feel, deep down, that to cry would be to send the world on its way to the hell that's its made for itself and be done with it. perhaps i don't want to the world to fade away just yet, like the fading memories of travesties excised upon one another. maybe letting go of those tears would be letting go of the world, and myself.

i am in control. i want to lose control. i want to cry.