(no subject)
4-28-07 Has it begun?
Is this my 1st entry….My 1st attempt to net my scattered thoughts and ramblings and lay them down in some understandable ciphered fashion. The events that have lead me to this point are many and varied, a retelling of them quite the task in and of it self. I ask is this my 1st entry because It seems that I have written this same phrase everyday for centuries yet it is strange, alien and at the same time common.
Today I saw them again, they try to hide in the skins of man, but their garments are too (uncomfortable/unnatural) for them, they ware them poorly. The woman and her faceless companion, she was hideous and a poor attempt at blending in but at least they made an attempt w her. The male form that accompanied her wore no face at all and thusly never turned its back from me , even without a face I could feel a cold and smiling glare flow from it. The woman’s grotesque visage lead most viewers away from her companion. Thin reddish hair pulled loosely into a bun. Her face so pointed and unkind to look on it was like cutting thineself. (As I type this strange lights and colors flash before my eyes…..feels like marathon of memories flooding back only to spill loose moments later) She had dull blue eyes that burned cold under her brow, all the features of her face pulled sharply to her chin (like a beak). The mannish thing that was with her said nothing and only moved in accordance of her signals. I often find myself wondering, are they here for my benefit…Am I the stage they perform on. Are they aware of one another or are they oblivious to such things. Why are they really here, to spy…terrify, one knows not, only that they ARE there if one chooses to look. The sharp faced woman gave commands to the shopkeep , as I past this duo I came across another. Again this one tried to where the visage of a woman but did so poorly…long sloth like arms…more made for moving branch to branch in some primeval forest than venturing the sub-urban wilderness, a paunchy gut, bland expressionless face, as though her hair and face were both pulled back into her ponytail. (Dark blue dreams rise again than sharply fall away. A brief recollection of dark dreams strange places with all the familiarity of a cold rainy night, common and varied) She moved around the store always in my path. No matter what I did I would find her in my way soon enough. I knew her game though she wouldn’t confirm it with a meeting glance. “Spy all you like!!! “ As I purchased my items and left I felt the cutting glares of them in my back. Outside the store there were others but none who’s aspect I recall with any favor. The shopkeeps who took payment for the wares were both familiar, an older woman of diminished size ad a dark man w cold blue eyes. He has stolen from me before, bloody heart’s day, I despise him and feel sad for her. As I made my payment I fled back to my home. Thoughts racing through my head w such rapidity that I nearly fell over from the barrage. Once I had collected myself I thought that perhaps I should start a journal to log such strange and alien thoughts. As my fingers glided over the keys opening a new journal, the feeling of a thousand similar journeys all spill forth, but leave behind no trails of such action. My thoughts I find are less and less my own vehicle, given more so to whimsy and randomness. My time under the loving embrace of Tesla’s coil have left me somewhat shocked and stunned.
Memories blinking. I wonder if they…machinated the timing of my treatments so that the powerful stench of the hospital would be dulled by the mental fog. Sanity is merely a word till you are closely devoid of it or surrounded by its emptiness. Than it screams…and screams in Futility. I tumble forward falling and falling into the Abyss. Am I one who speaks fluently the un-sane tongue, a madman who has been dressed head to toe in sanity’s guise only to ensnare her servants in my web. I heard the laughter the whispers the screams...they came in dreamy visions, before my senses drank them in deeply. I moved in this place as natural as any other place is to me. The line of “right” blurred, all those around pulled in by my smile my sweet songs my blood stained wit so sharp and uncaring. APATHY PRIDE WRATH. They danced under the sky I painted. A porcelain jester’s mask constantly in gestures of mirth and humor while the bloody corpse of flesh rots and stinks beneath its façade. GASP. GASP. I am drowning in the sick of madness around me, there is a point to which even I can take no more. Add to that the complications of the scarecrow and the bully and I begin tearing at my flesh and hair to leave.
This is no place to leave off but I grow weary and it is difficult to hold such thinkings to the congruent lens of understanding even with all my mental fortitude about me. Each grain of fatigue rends this task all the more impossible.