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Some Kind Of Insane |
| Written by jeremy lahey | |
| Saturday, 03 May 2008 | |
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I am a man with great fear. Fear of death, fear of life, and worse of all fear of success. My mind pushes me to be successful or die, be successful or live a pointless life. Every little thought, every little memory, every little voice says you most do something you must push your self to success, even though insanity is just on the side of this road. Day after day I feel the pain of craziness pushing into my brain and sliding down my vanes into my blood, and then eventually to my heart. I feel enraged, then I laugh, then back to enraged. Why must I feel this sad sad type of feeling you must ask, its because of my fear of success, it once was near I was on my way, now drifting and drifting far far away. My brain cells must be dieing one by one by one. The voices are now sneaking through my skull, it seems like I have a new one every night, telling me what I’m doing right on my path the opposite way from success. You may ask me why do have this fear of life just because I am not flying towards success, well id rather be resting instead of feeling controlled by the loss of success. My eyes are as red as hell from the lack of sleep of working day in and day out just to try and find that one thing that will take me to the top. Now knowing that the ladder to the top is to steep for a man with a wounded heart, pushing myself that high seems like a waste of time. The voices have now taken over and they seem like they got it under control, saying “go this way this will get you to the top” even though their top is my bottom, the lowest I’ve ever been. I have fought and fought and fought trying to get myself to the top, but this insanity is telling me to stop, letting me be free but am I really free when they are now in control? They are making me miserable and the ones I love know that I am because I show so much anger towards them, not because I want to its because they do it, the voices that is. Is this really what insanity feels like, it must be, I feel out of control of what I feel, definitely insanity. My life is taking its toll out on me, that’s why I must fear life as a whole. The voices tell me that one tiny mistake can end this miserable life, sometimes that don’t sound to bad but I must listen cause voices don’t die. They go with your soul to the grave ensuring an eternity of an uneasy rest. They make me reminisce of things in my past, telling me that I should have done this and I should have done that. Melting my mind with what ifs and memories of pain. They are making sure my life or even my death will be hell. Fear of life is not something to have because with this fear you might as well be dead, but with these voices death isn’t something to look forward to. I have heard though that suicide takes you some where else, maybe the voices won’t know where this is, maybe I can break free, just maybe is good enough. I can not find the will to kill myself, but these days this seems the only way. I have got to break free, free from the world, free from insanity. Life is to be enjoyed the wise man said to me one day, but is the wise man so wise if he was not wise enough to see my pain. Life is great the millionaire said in his speech on the seven o’clock news, yea to have that kind of money you can almost buy happiness. But this does not help me, for I can not feel his happiness even if I had his money the voices would remain. Life for me is unwanted. I do not want to continue this life. I love the people in my life but they do not understand what insanity can do to one man. My life was over when it started anyways, I feel like a ghost, an unheard, unwanted ghost. Drifting though life with really no point. Nothing to enjoy, nothing to love. This is my fear of life, until the day I die I will never be satisfied with these waste of breaths. I am already dead, dead to life. Death is life’s greatest mystery the brown worn down sign in the hallway says to me. Well to me death is my greatest fear. I don’t know where it will take me, will these voices remain? Only one thing is certain, death is calling my name. I can feel coldness when ever I breath, I know its almost my time and the voices tell me to go and I must listen because I am insane, I am insane because the voices, yes I’m insane. Suicide is the only answer I know, because the voices tell me this is not how to go but I know this will make me free. The fear of death shall not be as bad as the fear of these voices really getting deep down inside my head ripping it apart tearing it away. Where death takes you may be uncertain but what may be more uncertain than that is my insanity. Enraged and all drugged up, The voices are mad, they are worse than my mind can take. Beating me up inside. I am in my hotel room, breaking and bashing everything. The lamp, the TV, the bed, the phone books, everything the voices don’t want me to do. Going mad from their control, I look in the draw by the bed. What is this? A pistol from the guest before me? Yes, yes it is. Freedom staring me in the face, I jump from the bed, kick through the window, run into the streets. The voices are very angry, but this doesn’t bother me, I can taste freedom on my tongue or it might be the metal of the pistol in my throat but it doesn’t matter. All my fears are leaving my body but my voices are still there. I count to one, I count to two, I count to three. Copyright 2008 jeremy lahey |
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