You
might think that I am insane. And yes, on the surface I maybe insane.
But trust me, I am fully aware of what I am doing. And every time I take
an action, I am scared stiff of what I am doing. Every fiber of my
being screams to stop what I am about to do, but I can not help it.
You
see, I am sane, maybe more sane than anyone in this room. My god, it is
really hard to explain this, but I know what I am doing.
It’s
like I am caught inside a storm, and I am screaming stop, for the love
of god please stop, but once things are set into motion, there is no way
it can be stopped. It is a poor explanation for what I do, but please
understand this is god’s honest truth. It’s hard to understand this, I
know, but please this is the only way I can say this.
Of
course, this does not mean I deserve to go free of this place, but at
least I wanted you, yes you, to know this. I did not mean to do what I
have done to you. Please forgive me.
Anonymous,
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
XX/XX20XX
I
do not know exactly what I have seen tonight. I will admit that I had
drank a little bit before seeing it, but I swear it wasn’t enough to
make me delusional. But maybe it would have been for the better if I was
roaring drunk when I saw whatever it was. That would mean that my
imagination had taken the better of me and I would just have to tell
myself to stay away from spirits for a while and get my head straight.
But for good or for worse, I have seen it with my own eyes, and I must
now question whether I am going insane or not. Or maybe stress is
finally getting to me. That could very well be it. Come to think of it, I
have spent my weekends drinking and watching late night TV until I pass
out. I haven’t gone out and smelled the coffee for a while. Maybe I
should make sometime this weekend and go out to a bar with my friends.
Really, I never thought growing up would mean giving up going out and
getting drunk.
Anyways,
going insane or not, I would have to question what I have seen. How in
the world could I have seen that? I mean, she looked so natural sitting
in the middle of that field, covered all over with mud from head to toe.
Her eyes were closed, she just sat there and breathed like, like a mud
figure come to life and taking a little nap. What is this, really? Have I
thought to personify the mother Earth so much that it has lead to this?
Is that it? But I’m not that much of Earth lover to begin with, what
would my mind think to go that far?
Really,
now that I think about it, I have been seeing a lot of strange things. I
am seeing tiles moving in patterns that they should not move in, I am
seeing towels move about in ways like that are severed arms dangling
from the rack, I am seeing food move about in their last breath of life
to shake themselves at me and daring me to eat them.
It must be the stress.
20XX/XX/XX
Watched
a movie where an angel saw a woman and fell in love with her. It was a
good movie but besides that it got me thinking, that an angel loved her,
yearned for her and envied her. Would somebody envy my life to a point,
if given the chance to eavesdrop on what I do everyday? I can’t tell,
but I hope they do.
And
that’s what I want. I want to create a work of art, even maybe a
writing that would drive everyone into action. I want to create
something that would make them say
“That, that is something I must live by, those are the words that I must strive to at all cost, even if that costs my life.”
And I want them all to go into madness when those words are defied, or
even lightly questioned. People will mock them, they will point their
fingers at them and say
“Look at that poor fool, believing in the words of a dead man. They are letting a dead man control their lives!”
And I want those zealots to recite my words everyday, I want them to
gather in number, turn into an army that would attack anyone that would
question my words.
I want them to cry their eyes out when I die, I want them to clutch my
books when I am lying in coffin, I want them even to kill themselves to
join me in the afterlife.
And trust me, I will find a way to watch it all. If it takes conquering
whatever comes after death, so be it. I mean, to see the world turn and
everybody living like they don’t notice that I never existed? You think
I can stand that?
20XX/XX/XX
I had a dream where I married a person, grew old together and
multiplied like rabbits. All the children smiled and played in the sun
and all told me how much they love me. The person I married told me that
she loved me too.
I felt nothing while they said that to me. I just simply patted them on the head and told them I love them too.
But their smiles were genuine, they really seemed to love me. But I
just couldn’t feel anything for them. So I just repeated saying that I
love them, and they seemed to have believed my words and they smiled
ever broader.
When I woke up I felt a tremendous self loathing for not being able to smile and love them back like they did to me.
20XX/XX/XX
I’ve
gone insane. That’s the only possible explanation. All I did was just
wake up, go to work, get back from work, dinner, bath, and sleep. What
have I ever done to deserve this? Yes, I have always thought that the
only possible end for me is in the nut case hospital, but this is just
happening too soon. I thought I would have some more time to ferment
whatever that is inside me that will ultimately drive me nuts. But it
happened, I have finally gone insane even with this run of the mill
mediocrity.
What’s
worse, as horrible as the dream was, it was from with inside of me.
Like I said, whatever that is inside of me is growing stronger, so much
so that it is starting to have enough strength to speak to me. It speaks
to me in tenderness, it reaches its arms out to me, it smiles at me.
And why shouldn’t it, to it I’m the father, I gave him life. It wants me
to hold it in my arms, smile at it, even kiss it in tender fatherly
love. But like all fathers, I am not ready. I am not ready to accept
this. If I hold it in my arms, it will probably scream out in such
maddening joy, it will let out laughter so enriched in nonsense that one
will think that it’s not a child but an animal skinned alive and dying
of pain. It will reach for my face and try to peel away my skin and show
what I really am. It will tear away at my stomach to show what I have
been growing inside of me.
But what’s worse, another thought comes to me and it tells me,
“But
remember when you dreamed it you were having such a light sleep that
you felt like you were a participant in it. And yet you did not resist
any part of it. You just accepted it. You realized that this is a dream
that came out of you and you accepted it. Also, has it ever occurred to
you that maybe this is not the start of it? What if all your life you
were dreaming this and you never knew it? What if every night you were
driving yourself insane in your dreams and you were too deep asleep to
notice it? Wonder what kind of children you will bear in your life. I
pray they will at least retain a human shape.”
And that thought was right, my mind was pumping me with insanity while I
was alive, and when I was awake enough to know that I am dreaming, I
could not believe the shit that my mind was making me see. No wonder I’m
insane.
XX/XX/20XX
While
on the train, I saw a white elephant in an empty looking room. I saw my
mother get quite irate with my father to a point I thought to myself,
“Christ, even I don’t get that mad.” Then I thought, “Come to think
about it, I don’t get angry that much in the first place.” And it’s
true. I never get visibly irate. Instead I store up my anger in me and
vent it inwards. From the outside, I am quite calm, but in the inside I
have a very hair trigger temper and I tend to kill everybody.
After
that while taking a walk I saw a figure with no distinguishing feature
jump from rooftop to rooftop. I somehow knew that it was stalking me.
At
night when I was walking to the nearest diner for a bite, I saw a
figure of a person who has lost the skin on the top half of its head
walking slowly towards me. I somehow knew that the figure from earlier
in the day has summoned that thing. When I had my meal and got back to
my apartment, I found that the hallway was lined with what look like
figures covered in bandages from head to toe, all hanging from the
ceiling by the neck and wriggling like maggots who had boiling water
poured over them. And from the end of the hallway I saw the figure from
the morning enter my room. The figure was encased in what looks like a
metal bed frame standing upright with wheels attached at the bottom. It
was hanging by its neck inside the frame. I concluded that the figure
from the morning had finally found my room.
Really, all these things should drive me insane if it weren’t for the fact that I know I am insane.
XX/XX/20XX
Saw
a head of a giant without its one eye. Blood streamed out of the socket
and the giant cried out in pain, but only blood gushed forth.
Again
saw that figure with no distinguishing feature. It was walking on all
four on a roof. It was craning its neck in my direction. It was probably
spying on me.
These
couple of days since I have gone insane has been really quiet. I
thought insanity would mean constant whispering of voices telling me
what to do, but there is no voice in my head. Maybe what I am going
through right now is not insanity but a phase before going insane.
XX/XX/20XX
I
was in what seemed like the belly of a large beast, which turned out to
be the stomach of a large centipede with its legs hollowed out so
people can fashion a room out of it. The centipede moved about a dark
and (as far as I can tell) limitless space.
Each
of its legs contained people who realized that what they truly want out
of life was just too socially unacceptable, so therefore decided to
strip away their humanity in order to gain their one and only true
desire. I can’t exactly remember every details, but there was a man who
was so obese that his limbs were buried under his fat. There was a woman
who buried herself neck deep in semen and felt every pores of her body
plugged up. There was a kid who tore open his mother’s stomach and
climbed himself back into her womb.
I couldn’t tell why I was there, but I knew for sure that me turned insane had something to do with it.
XX/XX/20XX
Heard
some tapping sound on the apartment floor. It wasn’t the loud tap like
that of someone hitting the apartment roof with a broom, but more like
the faint tap of fingers while in conversation. Somehow I thought it
came from a creature created out of hair crawling on the roof (floor of
my apartment room) striking its clumps of hair on the roof. Didn’t
really think much of it, I am insane anyways. While sleeping I dreamt an
insect made out of human part was crawling around under my bed and that
was the cause of the sound.
Saw the figure with no distinguishing feature outside the window. I don’t know why it’s obsessed with me.
XX/XX/20XX
Went
out to the sea to change the mood. It was not a particularly warm day,
so the water was a little biting to the skin. However, the smell of the
salt on the air was good. The scenery of waves coming in and out was a
calming sight. I stood at the water's edge and cleared my head for a
while. I felt the grains of the sand carried away beneath my feet.
This
was probably what I needed. To clear my mind for a while and stop
thinking that there is something inside me. Just think that I am empty
inside and that there are still spaces inside me.
I
walked about the sand for sometimes until I came up some gathering of
rocks that the sea has washed up. But coming closer to it, it was
actually a creature from the depth of the sea that no one should in
their right mind even think to travel. And I realized that there was no
escaping it. It is the essence of the nature that chaos and rule
co-exist. I just happened to have the eyes to spot them out more than
anyone. After realizing that, I saw the the figure with no
distinguishing feature at the very edge of my sight. I would really like
to question its intent.
XX/XX/20XX
Had
a dream that I can not exactly explain what I had seen. It was a very
visual dream, but as soon as I try to remember it, words defy to explain
everything as if they do not want to be associated with the imagery.
Strange,
I’ve always been of the opinion that everything in this world could be
explained, that with right words everything would come clear.
The
best that I can describe about the dream is that people tore each other
into pieces like their bodies were made out of clay, and in the end the
one left with his limbs intact gave all the limbless bodies his semen
down their throats until they were all gagging with his seed.
This
is a very interesting time I am living in. I have decided to live a
clean life in hopes that this may clear out the loud booms and the nerve
shattering shock that rocks my whole body, but nothing is changing
anything. I am still a insane as ever.
I
am aware that what I see and hear everyday is only driving myself ever
into insanity, and that it was there with me ever since I was a child.
Somewhere in my mind I am growing a freak, and it’s shrieking its
existence into my ears so I could hear.
XX/XX/20XX
I
had a dream where I was in a country that cherished every books that
were ever written, and threw away none of them even if they were
tattered and the covers were gone.
In
there I was trying to serve food to children, but no matter how hard I
tried my body moved like they were lumbers stuck together by coarse
ropes. I tried to smile and serve the children food they would so love,
but I kept spilling the soup all over the plate, I splattered pastries
again the wall, there was nothing I could do but be useless. In anger I
threw my arms up, yet the children all smiled at me and forgave me. I
ate the food with them.
Then
I felt a strange feeling around my neck, and I found that it was suture
around my neck. I pulled at it against great opposition from the
children, and when I pulled it out to my throat, something popped out
and I gagged hard. I realized that the doctor had some kind of a surgery
on throat, or maybe my vocal cord. Anyways I understood why I could not
utter a word.
Sometimes
later a friend who I had not seen in awhile called me and told me he
wanted to see me. Somehow I resisted and told him every excuses in the
world. But he would not budge and took me around the town. And the more
of the town I saw and more attractions I saw I wanted to get away.
Finally my friend told me This is your last day on Earth, try your best
to enjoy it. And I realized that he was trying to make the last day of
my life as enjoyable as possible.
But
against every good intentions, I was lying in a darkened room that made
me realized that this is the part of the town that people come to die.
All around me I saw vague outlines of people who had blank holes for
eyes and mouth. They surrounded me and tried to lie on top of me so they
could seep their deaths into me. I resisted and pounded on them. When
struck upon, they all felt like a cotton soaked in water. I kept
pounding them and pounding them.
XX/XX/20XX
While at work I heard someone telling someone else death should not be an obsession.
“Really, like thinking about death all the time, that’s not healthy.” I heard her say.
I
would agree with her. Thinking all the time that someone, something,
might kill you is not healthy. Thinking What if you lost your foothold
and fall down that flight of stairs, what if a goes berserk for some
reason and starts attacking people with anything, and he just kills you,
what if the subway conductor for whatever reason loses it and just
drives the train until it hit something, what if the ceiling collapses
on you and kills you? It really is not healthy and one should not think
about it. But as a counterpoint I have to think about how much of
everything is out of your control, you would think it’s normal that one
would have the feeling like they could die at a drop of a dime. But
again one would have to come to realize that if death is something that
sudden and you can not control it, then one would have to choose from
the two options. 1, live without fear and take any actions you want
because you could just well be dead after that, or 2, take your own life
because if something is going to grip you in fear for the rest of your
life, stop before it actually get to you and go out in the way you feel
most comfortable before something horrible hits you.
Which lead me to think then, what is the most comfortable way for me to
die? What sort of an end would make me think well, if this is the end,
then I’d better accept it, rather than make me struggle to live just one
second more, screaming no nonononononononononono.
I couldn’t quite form it up, but I concluded that if I was to die, I
would love to somehow end up at the bottom of the cold ocean and decay
slowly in that dark cold water.
XX/XX/20XX
For the past couple of months I have been hearing talks of war
erupting. This time the war is to take place here in my country. Since
then I have seen protests and marches declaring no to war in this
country. Considering that there are skirmishes in this world great and
small, I’m surprised to see people just saying to themselves “Well, so
it comes here too then, eh? Well, I guess it’s our turn now”. But no,
these people are resisting and fighting tooth and nails. They are
screaming no, not here, not our blood, you shall not suffer us, you will
not fight here. As if others all over have not screamed and fought so
they may not die before their time. It was all over in the news screen,
and no one thought to learn. Soon there will be fight, buildings will
crumble, people will die, and I will just sit quietly by and watch. And
maybe that’s what I have been seeing all along.
