Contemplations of a Strange Mind, Day 8

Sadness… Breathe….

Depression is a strange thing… a ninja wreathed in shadows.

Enigmatic in its seductive figure… like the devil beckoning in Luciferian beauty…

Depression cares not for your circumstances

It knows no bounds

As soon as that specific trigger is flipped, even if you thought you had the best of defenses… it slithers in through the smallest chink, the most minuscule of flaws, to wrap you in its deadly embrace.

As one loses their prior happiness, their mindset of strength and confidence and readiness… their world seems to crumble around them.

My world crumbles…

Or at least I perceive it so.

Duties become so heavy, all the sudden…

Friends just happen to let you down…

Lovers seem to just lose their patience…

Parents too busy to attend to you…

Faces stalk you in glass, so fragile now.

The bastions you thought molded your stronghold melt in the rain, runoff down the drain that was your foundation…

The support you barely valued when you were happy and fulfilled, now nowhere to be found, right when you need it most…

The mind battles against itself.

My mind battles itself.

I wonder why life is so valuable when reality gets on just fine without it.

I wonder why my life should be valued when the world will get along just fine without it.

I wonder why these thoughts circulate and wring with such truth

When the support I thought I had once said them to be harmful untruth

But is it poison if it sustains you?

Is that poison if its the one thing you can depend on being there no matter what?

Castrating your confidence like a man with a sledge
Ham fisting your balls into your throat till your eyes bleed silent tears
Tearing every bone into pieces splintering off into every organ as it ruptures your flesh
Exposing nerves grating against spiked walls of terror squeezing your figure into your silhouette;
Until you are only a shadowed skeleton flirting with death.

A tincture, a prophylactic, a cure is teased upon your tongue.
You rejoice for its aide, the inevitable recovery! Blessed Goddess..
Only for Salvation to be taken away,
Bottled and time-stamped, there’s a price you must pay
No free meals for the day. No free deals for the sick You Must PAY!

So I sit and I write and I clean and I rhyme, hoping to hope that I may come around…

I dont want this mind, I dont mean this crime, this is not my time!
Why oh why?!

I scream in my mind.

Silent in real time, sluggish and too solaced to share.
They think I dont care.
They feel slighted by my mind’s crime,
Because Im too choked they dont hear how I cry…
Because Im too lost they dont like what they find
Their — jokes and fortune and love to be returned in kind. Im unkind
They think — selfish, apathetic; no longer genuine,

But I am… I am…

I AM jumping in joy and running in circles and bustin a rhyme and chuckling in time with them I reply and I try and I mind every line to ensure the war inside does not spill blood on their mic,
Does not trouble their eyes…
Yet the punctuation, the celebrations , the exaltation of golden nuggets they mine…
They stay behind.
Locked in my mind.
And so I cry… I die… one cell at a time….
Apoptosis… My connection fries as I see the small bloodstain wet their eyes.
I held my intestines… oh how I tried… but drips dropped before it could dry.
Halitosis… Disgust, distrust… they flick off the lights, my sun and my stars,
And thus they jilt me goodnight.

Night.
Awaits awake with bated breath… down my neck, my throat…
It shivers up my spine…

Why Oh Why?!

Then the allegations, the faces, the races
Against the clock, they want me to get better NOW
They want me to fix… myself? To quit… myself? To fit… myself NOW
Into the mold of greatness they carved out for me when I was a better me?
But what me? Now How Do I GET free? How, do I ‘be me’? Why dont they see,
Me?
Not at ease…
Its not easy, to combat the bombast of long bats pried on my mind as they climb inside and tie every Psy
Napse together like my naps together a psycho-lapse tether
In my eye, my minds eye, my meta my What Am I Doing?
Every level flooded, every front routed, every base imploding.

No recourse. No force of me. Just the winds…
Forcing me… applying force to me…
Just the winds…

Desolate. Winds.

Floating in breezes are treatises of peace and creeds
Left in pieces, ID species-in-pieces.
Emptyness. Meaningless. Defeated.

But alas.

Here I’ve been pleated..
In the folds of defeat have I ceded…. my self-seeds! I have seeded!
In defeat I have receded from death, reseated my CPU, and reseeded my SFX!
My graphics, my perception, my perseverance on life, my unity of Vision!
I have been here before. I have been to this door. I have been through this floor.

I know what to do.
I know how to move
Back to where I came,
Back to where I heeded the signal to ready for receiving the pass I secreted away for this occasion once it came again.
I remember the ICE stakes, the emergency brakes, the ‘just in case,’
For a rainy day.
In it, clothes and toys and love for me to play.

Ayudame? Tenet Nosce!

I know, I play, I love, I help myself!

And so the winds…
Nay, the gales, recede into my lungs as I breathe with my tongue.
Tasting the fresh air of my own lair in glee,
I am free.
The endless plains and skies waiting to be filled and ran and flew, oh man.
The sweet treat of Victory.

Breathe.