The shattered mind


We went from the antechamber in the basement to the kitchen area
where we stood near the kitchenette. As much as I wanted to sit down,
I was terrified to because of the lurid object above my head. Rich appeared to be attentive and alert but still, there was something bugging him. He would scratch his arm and then stare at it blindly before falling into fits of unstoppable laughter. He would then begin to blurt out words at random, and I wondered what my parents would have done upon seeing it! The walls of his padded cell were slowly being fastened together as his little mind became unhinged.

There was a wicked spirit around the kitchen sink that would somehow absorb itself into the fabric of the argent metal. The two faucets seemed to be empowered with a form of kinetic energy I had never seen before. There were small bursting patterns within the alloy composite I cannot logically describe, and I think they were making my pupils dilate! As I watch them spin and gyrate, I would fall into a mild trance. How amazing!!! Such vivid color in such little space! To follow the contrast of kaleidoscopic hues inside a door that goes 'round and 'round without ever opening! You can go inside but it never opens; you can stay out but you're never really there. . . Then, like an exploding daydream, I was awakened from my trance.

The long slender arm-like mouth of the high arc spout was attempting to reach me, while at the same time that insane laughter behind me was starting to give me bad vibes. Since I was busy analyzing and examining things, I couldn't be there for him. I presume this is why he withdrew into his own world. Within that plastic bubble in the realm of his containment he began throwing his lips out. This action made a very strange popping sound! Every time he did it, he would convulse in laughter. I wanted to tell him to be quiet but that would only make him sad. I would not let anything in the universe be sad because that is a reflection on my soul. You get too many of them and the Lord puts you on fire. As I focused my attention on the ethereal movements of the magic faucet, I began to think frightening loud! "The aliens have metallic compounds like this! I believe they left some of it in Roswell!!!" I think if the United States government were to see this, I would be taken somewhere and killed. There is no doubt about it. As the faucet extended itself outwards toward me, I think it wanted me to pet it! Of course I couldn't risk transference, so I respectfully declined by showing it my two hands and then rubbing them together in an accelerated motion. *Why I did this I will never know*

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Why I refused to touch it however was simple. If you take that airy silver; that mercurial platinum and you initiate contact, there is a very good chance some of it is going to stick around. I knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that if any of it got on me, it would leave patches of invisibility. I was already invisible in life, I didn't need to be anymore invisible, and I certainly didn't need any more puzzles to solve! The sparkling faucet suddenly lost all its shimmer and was no longer appealing to my senses. Then it drooped; as if it were going to rest its slender neck at the rim one of the small pans filled with water and begin drinking. No, that wasn't it. I had made it sad. I had destroyed something beautiful. Almost immediately did I feel a rush of sadness choke me and my eyes burned like fire. Throwing my hands on my face, I must have looked like the boy who had just witnessed both parents being executed.

The Clown witnessing this screamed a laugh so horrifyingly loud, I spun around full circle hitting the stove! As I look at my friend in shock, the stained glass lighting fixture was within inches from my face! Before it could snap like a venus fly trap, I dropped to the floor and dove into the living room! Wow, I thought, now I can't go into the kitchen. In anger, I began to wonder why he screamed like he had just gotten fucked in prison. His actions made no sense at all. He's disrupting the balance of time, I screamed into the gray region of all abandoned thoughts before composing myself! Aside from the onerous task of having to quiet that screaming head in the kitchen, I must first figure out how to get into the kitchen. Just then it dawned on me, he's the head of Candor!!!

That screaming bastard nearly put me in the ground!

"Okay, let us analyze the situation." As I thought about it, I realized I could crawl in through the kitchen and the light would not be able to reach me! (((That is exactly what I did))) And now it was furious!!!

I entered the bathroom and flicked the switch and that brown room came alive! All those tiles with the strange wilted flowers were moving themselves around!!! Just then I pressed one of the tiles, and it clicked.
Sensing a gate was going to come crashing down and trap me, I bolted from the bathroom leaving the light on. I asked my friend politely if he could please shut the light, and he spit a mouthful of laughter at me. Apparently, I must have been speaking French, because he didn't understand a word I said.

Sliding open the glass door I let myself out and proceeded to take a nice long piss. Hearing a movement in the backyard I ran in without zipping! I then saw something in at me from the darkness. . . It was a massive fucking spider! Holy shit, this thing was huge!!! It had to be the height of a medium sized dog! Suddenly, my mind was springing them!

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Little ones - Big ones - Ghastly ones!!! I have to close all the vents and windows now!!! I can't go through the kitchen!!! *Stop* Look at it again, please. . . As I peered through the glass, terrified, I connected with the object and realized what I was looking at. The wine barrel we took out of the basement last month! I solved the problem and the spiders were gone! If I tried, I probably couldn't make them return. The mind can only rest when a problem is solved; that is so happening man!!! I am now in total peace. . .

I now had to be extremely careful around that light fixture hanging above the table! The one crafted from stained glass and lead, then wrought into the shape of a flower. There was a certain flux within it that made me feel as though it were mocking me to some degree. Also, there seemed to be a wavering effect in the light, very similar to a bending mirror at a sideshow. When you stand next to it, it distorts your size. "How clever the mind in
its affinity toward ever knowing the requisite capacity to assimilate, lies unresolved." There was now a hideous distortion in the way that it was bending. I could see a current of energy flowing through its veiny petals, as if two big magnets were stretching its sides, or it was trying to open. This I could not tell, but it had a sinister motive and did appear to be sneering at me, as if ridiculing me for something I had done to it in the past. I told it I was sorry and then paused to reflect in silence, fist to mouth. Imagine that. I had apologized to this inanimate object. This perennial nightmare swaying gently before me in my warped perception, when, in fact, I had done no wrong! Indeed, I fell for the greatest hoax
of all time!

The fact that I was deathly afraid of it striking me, could in no way be abolished. My sole concern was that if it did, would I be able to stave
off the infection before my brain sends it coursing throughout my entire system, contaminating everything in its immediate path. I did not wish for this to end in an all out war! Ask yourself this, is there truly anything worse than watching yourself change into the one thing you are most terrified of? A spider. A rat. A cockroach or a centipede. Have you any idea, how traumatic something like that can be to your psyche? How damaging? If you did, you would understand why I refused to sit down at that table!!!

Life in itself was quotidian marked by mundane functions of mind
and body performing a task or enjoying a luxury. We go to the store,
we come home. We drive to the garment district, we buy new things,
we come home. Why does everything always have to be drown in normalcy? Why can't we plan a day that we have all to ourselves?
To alter ourselves by seeing past the illusion, without being persecuted
for it? From time to time, I find that this is necessary, but is it really so wrong? It's not like I'm going to screw up my life by going crazy. I know what I'm doing in here! Considering all the hostility forming in the electric flower, every step was met with apprehension and fear. Maybe, I thought to myself, just maybe, I am beginning to learn that now.

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A mellifluous voice within my mind gave me the rundown on life.

Everything's right and everything's wrong
when everyone is right and everyone is wrong.

Time was now at an ebb and flow, and I was somewhere in the middle of it. Memories that were mine and memories that weren't flooded my senses and made me hold my head in a half smile. I was baffled and awe struck, and I wasn't quite sure if I should sit down or begin doing an Irish jig. Just then it turned itself toward me, and I backed up like I was moving away from the snake charmer's basket. God knows, I wasn't getting any closer to it! It was acting very unpredictable now, and it was just a matter of time before it lashed out to strike. Since it wasn't moving more than a foot in any given direction from where it hung, I decided to give it an extra two feet, just to be safe. Hopefully, it wouldn't snap the chain! Had we taken four hits each, I am sure my head would be halfway down its fiery throat by now, and my brain, equidistant to the edges of a searing hot frying pan.

I thought of the moon flowers, and how they bloom only at night but this son of a bitch runs on electricity! I can't be nice to it and give it water, or I'll start a God-damn house fire.

Rich was still acting weird, muttering indistinguishable words and laughing hysterically. This had been going on since the time of my aunt's departure and that was six hours ago. What's going on in his mind? That's hard to figure out when a person is not communicating with you. He's laughing at his life from "Funhouse Land" without a care in the world, while I have to
try to analyze and fix this whole foolish mess. I turned off the kitchen
light and the evil rose grew tranquil. Keep in mind that the 'off switch'
acted only as a mild sedative. Its defense mechanism was still on for
I could hear it hissing audibly! A warning, that I would be
very wise to keep my distance.

Cordially, I summoned my friend into the barrel room. No, this was not a distilling room, but rather a small living room with inch brown dots on oak flooring strips that when fitted together formed a very unique half oval ceiling. At first glance, one would attest that it was "congenial to the eye" whether they were high or not, and I marveled at it, as if it were the first time I had seen it. Turning the knob on the television set, we came upon
the Joe Franklin show. Since neither of us understood a word he said,
we sat there emotionless, and watched that magic glass produce life.

While I pretended to wonder why a world full of people would choose to live inside it, I also wondered what would happen if they suddenly decided they wanted to step outside the box. To see these celluloid characters coming to life in the barrel room would be more than my head could handle, and I am sure that would give my friend, but another reason to laugh his balls off!

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What I really liked about Joe was that he always seemed happy. Most of
the time he just sat there in a comical light, reaching for words that should already be there. Like a stand up comic desperately trying to act the part of a talk show host. As I watched him on the old Zenith television set through that wooden console, I wondered just how many of these TV's would still be in use a hundred years from now. I noticed that Joe seemed to be hesitating a lot before rushing to get the words out. While his facial gestures and hesitant motor skills made me laugh, I could not help thinking of other things.

The forbidden lifestyle of the unconventional poet.

I saw the family portrait beside the TV next to the pictures of Dawn, Vanessa and Carolyn. My three sisters. I then realized, everyone was there except me. I'm never around. Why do I even exist? I feel more like a ghost than I do a human being. Could I be dead all this time? Nay I say, to live apart from her, that is my torment. My Hell on earth. Whence at last I close my eyes for the last time, I will hear the heavenly trumpet sound, calling me to glory after I've slept a billion years, in less than a fetid breath.

Good old Joe was now bidding us farewell, and so I turned off the television set. I and my friend then ascended the staircase, until once
again we reached my room. Rich was still laughing hysterically as the high grew stronger still. I wasn't sure what to make of it now. It was becoming drawn out, and I was beginning to feel peevish, to say the least. I looked up at the skylight and saw the turning point of a nightmare as it came to life. Similar to the blades of a helicopter as seen through a kaleidoscopic lens! It swiveled three times to the right on an invisible axis lifting itself out of the plate which had held it in place for so many years. It then returned to its original position as though it had never happened. It continued in the same manner until I could watch no more. That's it, I thought. The point where everything comes apart and there's no fixing a shattered mind. It's going to get bad, and I'm really trying to prepare myself. It should have been starting to wear off by now, but no, it just keeps getting stronger!
It hadn't reached its peak yet!!! All this research and writing, balderdash!
My reward for it all was going to be irrevocable lunacy. Slowly, I am going out of my mind.

Why is it every time I win, I lose?

I shuddered like a virgin on a prom date to think that in but a few short moments from now the chemical element that I held in such high esteem,
for so long, would soon have its way with me. There was nothing I could
do or say that would have it release me from its evil grasp. It would
simply have to run its course, and I was too tired to fight.

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What happens when the ceiling flies away? Will I still hear strange laughter through the darkness or will the darkness be my only light? It would be different if Harmony were here with me now. She could turn a criminally insane nightmare into an unforgettable night of insatiable glory with merely a wave of her gentle hand. Without her by my side, I was in permanent danger of getting lost in the stream of time. Like a timorous man, I sat in the middle of my bed and began to dissolve into it as my mind tried to unwind. Now, once again I would find, I created something I could not control. It seemed I was living only to destroy myself, and this time, I had taken someone else along for the ride. In time perhaps, new adjustments could be made to my cerebellum, where I may function as to hold a glass of water. Whether or not I will know what water is or why I must drink it to sustain my own body; this I contemplate trembling. I began to hear a song in my head, and so I jotted it down. I never gave it a title, and
I never spoke of it again.

Spiders come crawling out of crevice electric.
Day turns night for awhile.
Where do you go when you lose your soul?
When your blood runs cold
inside your veins of darkened steel?
Reflected from the path you yielded by day.

It's not easy;
living a brand new life.
It's not easy,
when you hear strange voices at night
that seem to come from out of the closet
and carry a knife.    

You're alone here, you're the patient.
There's no one there it's only you.
And though you played the game,
you were bound to lose. . .
Am I to die in this padded room?

The clown in the corner sat laughing, and I thought of what I had done. Knowingly, I had lured him into madness through suggestion. Why would I do such an evil thing? I am a monster above all men and if God were here right now, I'd be a match head under a blowtorch. No, God is patient. He is kindness and love, but even so, he is an all consuming fire. That is why anyone who seeks to repent should cast away their sin of pride and do so immediately, because everybody knows, tomorrow never comes.

Afterwards, when everything was back to normal again, I found my friend still laughing and drooling. Sure he could get on a bus and go here and there or go to the store and buy smokes, but he would no longer be able to work. Just smoke, laugh and drool. My friend lives in a home now.
A home for mentally challenged people and that is something I have
to carry around with me for the rest of my life. Just to know that I destroyed another human being. A friend who trusted me, I betrayed.
Don't feel bad? How the hell am I supposed to feel?

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The whole house was now becoming deranged. As I looked at the walls around my room, they seemed to be breathing in and out slowly. I then placed my hands upon the breadth of its median as the town scattered, thus allowing me to feel the contractions of life within its very core.
The movements within the wall felt like an odd combination of both
water pressure and that of compressed air.

I ran my hand up and down its fleshy walls while it breathed in gently and calmly wondered to myself, if I poked it would it bleed? Could it feel pain? If we see something in pain, is it not in pain, because that is what the mind perceives? I then wondered, who would wish to do harm like this in the first place? To get off on making it suffer would be no different in the eyes of the Lord, than to mutilate a helpless child. Nothing should be wrought to suffer! No animal, no insect, no object and certainly not another human being! Something which exists only to live should not be harmed. It should be allowed to live without any human intervention! Even if it isn't really real. *Am I very wrong?* But still, that thought has me baffled! Let's just say out of pure speculation, I was to put a nail in the wall to hang a picture. Now, the wall begins to bleed and cannot stop. What shall I do?
I may be forced to leave the house. I did not want to leave this house! Neither did I wish to have an internecine power struggle to deal with. More than anything else, I did not wish to disrupt the fabric of my environment which I was presently enjoying. Instead, I will watch it grow, the same
way you would take pleasure in observing your own children in their developing stages of life. When something is beneath your feet, isn't it better to step over it than upon it? Even though it takes a greater effort?
All things that live must have some significance in this world, or they would not be in the first place. (Of course, this excludes brain eating amoeba, flesh eating bacteria, and every other microscopic foe,
which takes form in a human host to cause illness)

Yes, I thought aloud, this is the answer to God's love!
It has to be, I said with fists clenched and pupils fully dilated!

This made the clown laugh harder still. Once again, he falls to his back
like a sack of potatoes and begins to bump (furiously) his posterior skull to the old hollow sounding wooden floor in an accelerated motion. I tried to ignore him for he was not with me. I then waved to one of the workers in the field, and it did not come as a surprise to see them waving back.
No, I will not hurt you little people in the field for you are truly
breathing, and I. . . I am on the other side now.

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