Han

Tag: madness

Vagaries!

My brain is now of twisted nerves; I can’t concentrate on the fleeting nor the whims, nor the insufferable smells of cigarettes burning up, they will combust! I feel I am two: splitting into forms of which I know not, my desires are undergoing mutation, my fears are undergoing change like the unpropitious morning weather—rain or shine! what brine!

I want to breathe life into the undying constants and the great contentment that most possess. But this is a desire, a duty perhaps, which is socially obnoxious. A different happiness does not mean a lesser one. I must remember! Perhaps I need to apply this theory to myself, to just lie back, to relax and breathe in regulated fours. I am a brick about to shatter into rubble; I am a lark—indecisive and sickening and brazen! You told me umpteenth times and I am learning not to be. There are times when I value that passionate pursuit yet times when I seek other more joyous activities. The indulgence of which obliterates my propensity for writing and my marking of growth, my dying youth, my moulting self.

I am going mad! My words are disjunct!

All the light we cannot see

I think, for one day, I want to discover what it is like to be mad, or be with the mad. I would like to taste the great dysfunctionalities of my incapable being, yet still possess the living faculties of being able to transcribe my stifled proclivity towards that illness. What is it that we are conferred because confiscation was done?

I think, for a brief moment, that aberrant behaviour can be rationalised. After knowing what pain is, what numbness is, what laughter is, we turn to different spaces to discover realer things about fatalism, about simulations, about why moral obligations exist if there is theological determinism. Contentment with normalcy provides no such cogitation! nor individuality! 

I think, for an inexplicable reason, that if being mad were a choice, and should that selfish choice be approved, I should see the world as prodigious. I became clear at a time too late, at a time when the leaves have yellowed, at a time after heyday.

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