Sunday, September 30, 2007

Brutality of Thought

Waking up early in the morning he works his way into mind numbing state of contempt for a morning, but is this really whats causing his feelings, of hate and sadness. Pressing forward and making sure he's ready he steps a foot out that door and it begins; music blaring through his head phones he walks quickly, for he knows they come... Not only do they come quickly and sudden but they are potent ones, potent enough too drive any sane living creature into madness, yet he seems to fend them off for just a little longer each time. Weaving and dodging he finds his way through the thin crowd then as he finally pass through what seems too be the barrier between his worlds his heart stops for a moment, as his mind screams and revolts against the bitter tanging reality at hand. Taking a look back at what was his most calming part of his day he brutally slams his foot into the pavement and pushes forward at a dreadful pace, that allows for a speedy recovering yet holding him back enough too make any moment painfully slow. Bumping against those who cause the most, he lowers his eyes he has never felt that satisfaction of head up walk...All those eyes boring into him as they know he is bowing down too them, not giving any single one a chance to dig. But it happens, regardless, those painful and quickly tanging thoughts return and his sanity eats away sinfully slow using all his strength not to break down in tears. Each thought grabbing whats left of his beating and bruised sanity and tearing new flesh chunks out...he bites his lip and turns into his old self. Now breaking through it all and ready for battle, his mind turns to pain, as his words ring with sarcasm with a hint of cynicism laced in for a deadly combination. Each sentence he now speaks, or look he gives is enough too bring a full lion down...deadlier then most poisons he licks his lips and bares his ugly nature.
Can this truly be what he has become? Is he this twisted creature that takes pleasure in a almost masochistic fashion too his abusers and his abused mind? Will it ever be soon enough for a recovery?
His mind screams as each seconds pass, grasping at whats left of him, but its almost in vein as each grasp slips further into a burning passion.