If you could compare the way things really are and the way that I perceive them to be, you would think I’m crazy. My mind tortures me sometimes, whispering it’s insecure nonesense to me until I feel like I’m going to scream until my lungs bleed. The things my brain thinks up makes my skin itch sometimes and it’s frightening. But what’s even more frightening is that it doesn’t always bother me. Sometimes he asks me what I’m thinking and while the image of me bringing harm to someone who hurt me very much in the past flashes through my mind, a bloodbath of horrendous magnitude, I smile and say I was thinking of what to snack on. He wouldn’t understand the horrors my mind creates. He sees it as living in the past and thinks I should move on. If it was that easy, I would have done it long ago. These things that are in my head, they irritate and disgust most. It’s why I’m usually so withdrawn. They think it’s because I’m shy, because I only speak when I absolutely have something to say, and really it’s because they don’t understand me. I’m much more content to write these secret things down privately, my journal is a psychiatrist’s playground, but no one has ever asked me what’s on my mind with the honest desire of wanting to know which is another reason I keep it to myself. He’s not like me though. He thinks about the workings of the world, the how’s and why’s. He’s brilliant. His curiosity makes his eyes light up and makes me envious. I cannot remember the last time my eyes lit up over anything. It won’t always be this way though, I only have to figure out how to use my creativity to release these demons, bring them out of me and then maybe I can be free. It’s like being on a damned merry go round, the darkness and the light trying to out spin each other until the two become nothing more than splotches, combining and creating something different, something almost beautiful, something that cannot be harnessed.
Write On 