Posts Tagged ‘Madness’
It could be described as the most prolific moment in the eve of my life—never more than a whisper from death or complacent living. Yet, a whisper is only what it is named, and what more can be done when it is not heard? Because of the simplicity that such a conclusion brings to my life, I am drawn to two possibilities: either I will find what I seek or I will move closer still to that fatal whisper. Somehow, neither is the case; I am but a lonely decrepit man—or rather, I was. By most accounts I died in my own wretched ignorance, a cesspool of thought and depravity left behind for the vultures of life to divvy up, tear apart, and ultimately leave to rot and decay until nothing was left but the remnants of a corpse – nothing but a steaming pile of pungent odor remains. By most accounts, I was the most villainous, albeit industrious, individual to have roamed this rocky orb.
In life I was unaware that I had been accused of committing so many misdeeds, because I had instructed him so well. He devoured my words. He did this until my instruction ended his existence. Many ask, “What heinous act has this villainous creature thrust upon society?” But I tell you now, this was no misdeed by any standard; it was only a means to an end. What was this end? The appeasement of his soul. Yet is this madness? No, I dare say it is not madness; it is only a dream that shall be unrealized.
Now I sit in this cell caged like an animal, never to break loose. Always wondering if on the other side my words will ever be heard or comprehended. I doubt that a mind such as mine exists in this universe. I am locked in a cage—while real in every sense, it is beyond description for mere mortal eyes. But it is my mind that leaves me here. Am I insane? Hardly. For one not to see that is in itself insanity. Oh dear friend, I am aware of what you may be thinking. Yes, there is no doubt in my mind that I would look upon a man such as myself as a bigot and a delusional, babbling twit, but I am so much more.
Every night I looked upon the stars wondering why in God’s name I had been thrust upon this hellish earth. I stared about me and never once saw a soul as deep in thought as my own. Oh, how this disgusted me. The torment was like the blackest night’s icy tendrils. Its baneful howls sliced my ears constantly. What was I to do, was I to remain calm and allow this vileness to continue? Of course I could not. My course of action was as calculating as it was sane. I decided to demonstrate to the world just how intelligent I was.
I was determined to undermine the fabric what I knew. How I was to accomplish this is still quite a mystery to me, but do not judge. Another person in my place would have done this very thing. Imagine it; imagine how wonderful it would be. This is my place in life. I found much sanity in this insanity as some have said. I cannot say I agree, for where is the insanity? I would be proud of any other who could devise a plan such as this.
Stop wondering what it was that my plan accomplished, or for that matter what it was. It shall be revealed. I beg, sir, not to judge, nonetheless. My mind has a purpose and my plan has done what it should have. Had I not been put away, who is to say that my plan would not have accomplished its purposes? That is the insanity that I must face daily. Physicians, psychiatrists, and the like, all wish to understand my thoughts. Their minds are a modicum of ideas at best. No better than a dog’s mind when compared to my own. So of course I shall not explain what I already know. It would seem frivolous would it not?
To my own detriment, it would seem I am a mound of ambivalence. Knowing not which way was up or down was my only blunder. My plan was perfection. I declare it true. The lone imperfection was its perfection; this is why it could never have been completed. Those dastardly officials shall reap their deaths in their own time; if not by my hand, then by the hands of providence shall they meet death face first. Their visage will be one of ignominy and darkness upon their deathbeds. They are nothing more than shadows of men, and my heart, it seems, knows that I am so much more. Truth be told, I am sane. I shall achieve what I set out to do. Nothing but shadows of men, I render this thought and leave it.
What more can be said now? I am caged as a rat; left to rot until death thrusts its loving hands down my throat and rips me apart. I wonder. How is she coping? My old friend death. She seems so lackadaisical of late. Has she forgotten me? No matter, in time I suppose I will hear from her again. Such is the way of such things. No matter.
What now, shall we say, my dear friend? What doth one inquire of me?
Cross posted at Minor Speculum.