My world… my pain… my choice
I battle the voices in my head on a daily basis….
sometimes all i can do is lay down and go to sleep and
let my subconscious take me somewhere else.
I live my life vicariously through the television, music and musings of my past..although i long for a normal life with a wife, children and all of the other so called normal trappings, i know those things are not for me. They take some sort of inner will or character i do not posses.
I am different than "regular" people, and slowly i am coming to the realization of what and who i really am..
A while ago a woman where i live hung herself… it was a few days later that i realized that i knew her..people said they couldn’t understand why she would kill herself and in my heart i knew… she had came face to face with the hideous four horsemen; terror, bewilderment, frustration, and despair… I have seen that ugly creature that grows deep inside the soul of those who drink too much or shoot dope…. it grows slowly from the bitterness, the loneliness, and attaches itself to everything you touch. and then one day it takes you whole and there are only 2 choices….that woman took one of them….
Many times i have looked at a sharp knife, or razor blade and thought "i wonder if this will stop the voices!!!" But i am too chicken to go through with it….the thought of the pain is too great and i veer away from the idea.
The four horsemen have left me alone… but they left one of their friends…… loneliness. It consumes me and i have found that i have started talking to myself. Not only do i now talk to myself, but i have my own form of gibberish words to answer my own questions….A person of God would call that "Speaking in Tongues" and those who are in touch with God know what i am talking about… But those that are like me know that the gibberish i spew is far from the Holy communication with God Almighty, but just another step towards the dark door of insanity! I know that there are many prices yet to be paid for all for the ugly things i have done in the past, so i accept my fate and hope that there aren’t many more prices left to be paid…..
Ah i need to lay down and go to sleep…. maybe i will dream about the woman i love….
Technorati Tags: the four horse men, life on the edge, to those who know, the words of the deranged, loneliness and despair
June 16th, 2008 at 9:19 am
Man. Well, what can one say to such a thing. Not much that you wont coldly turn away as more ignorance and misunderstanding. I like to think that me and you are very similar in many ways, but I’m sure you disagree. But perhaps you can agree, that whoever I am and regardless of how similar our natures are, we are similar in the sense that the silent torment has broken us into unclassifiable shapes; ghosts of the material the world. Lonesome deep divers of the psyche, who are taken in by those black corners of self that are best left untouched by many.
I think also you have chosen to be where you are, and even for all the pain you will still not have it any other way. Hateful love. Preferring to drink the deep painful mouthfuls of sorrow rather than sipping the shallow pleasures of yesterday. I think we are also similar in this way. Ironically, through insanity, turmoil and the burning anguish within you that you vomit up daily, your body has been crushed and mangled into a dark beast, and yet, you have attained a greater understanding of self, far beyond that of those described as regular. I believe they call people with this understanding ‘crazy’. I call them honest. Perhaps this is also common between us.
I do not intend to share my problems with you, as you did not intend to share them with me. This passage you wrote is not the sharing of your problems, not calling for someone to help you up off your feet, not a weak cry for assistance, but simply the expression of your own burden to yourself, in the hope that she may brush her eyes across this text, and, in her understanding, silently cry at having found you. If you follow, then I think, once again, we share this same form of weight.
You have seen the edge of time and kissed the lips of ignorance, and now, with your scarred and shadowy soul you collapse and scream into the night with such passion and loss that the very foundations of the universe ripple, unnoticed by all.
Its funny. I always laugh at this point. There is something so ironic about insanity. I think its that for all this endurance, passion, depth and character, there is not a single person it can be shared with, because it is so intensely unique. But that is another thing…
Ah yes. Bandits. Outlaws. Aliens. Ghosts. Possessed. Whatever mediocre fucking expression you want to use for it. None of them are ample enough. It can only be defined as the banishment from being medium. To be forever definite and extreme. To be forever cursed away from reaching satisfaction nor understanding. This I believe we defiantly have in common.
So, why even bother to justify myself as being of the same mentality as you? Why even try show how we are in the same ordeal? If I you are as disconnected as I think I am why even write this? Why even give a shit? I think you already know the answer to that.
I do know one thing for sure. The first and last lines of your passage I have breathed before, in this eternal micro life of mine. And through the thousands of years I have understood very little of what people say. But, this passage I understand. This text I can read more than once. ah yes. Not only read. But feel. Once the night comes and I sit on my bed slipping away I shall feel your words slip their cold hands into my back and like a swift poison, flush into my chest. And with an irrational smile I shall once again throw out my arms to the tides of darkness, laughing hysterically with myself by my side, drowning in the shadowy waters of a brief sleep.
September 26th, 2009 at 11:31 pm
I am a schizoprenic as well. I know theres hope, and opportunity for better living.
Try Nolongerlonely.com, you will meet a community of people with mental disorders. You don’t have to be lonely.
September 26th, 2009 at 11:41 pm
I am not a schizophrenic… Only disillusioned by the world around me and my voices are the last visage of my guilt from my past, and my longings…. pills and modern medicine will never have a cure for what ails my heart and plagues my mind!!!