Mis Vida...Ah Chico...

White, hot, silent noise. Cacophonous, obstreperous sound, it invades my head, thoughts rolling around like a tidal wave. I cannot quite ascertain how to make sense of it. I’m a sea of contradictions and nothing quite makes sense. I strive to be normal, but normalcy always lies just out of reach. I hate the world and I’m quite certain the world loathes me in return. I am taking up space and doing nothing that is real. I don’t know precisely what is to feel, to feel whole and human. Humanity is not the level I’m on. I am far to concerned with trying to live, that in itself is a prodigious struggle. Why is this so heart breaking? I am doing nothing at all and it seems like too much. I’m tired and cold and ready to cave. I’ll throw in my towel and call it quits if I could. But the rumbling voices forbid me to quite. I love life and want to be the vivacious worldly child the tell me to be. But, I am trapped. Convoluted and lost. I am standing on the edge of the vast cliff of sanity and I fear the wind will gust and I will fall off in to the abyss that is my world. It has been too long since things really made sense and I’m not entirely sure the ever quite will. Perhaps it is weakness, in fact I know that’s the case. This is all my fault there is something wrong and I want it to stop I want to fix this crazy whirlwind of thought. I need peace. I need quiet. I hate the aloneness that always surrounds me. I’m not on the level with everyone else I transcend that world I get lost in the struggle. I may just give up but I can’t. I CANT it is an impossibility I’m not allowed. Someday some one will lock me away and throw away the key and the world will be more tranquil. My world will always be blazing and flying ready to drop like a bomb on their world. I just want to hide to turn of the argument raging in my brain. Two days ago I decided that I would cease to be medicated I think it is best for the medication had turned me into a languorous sloth. My creativity was shot lost from the world and it is the only thread that holds me to sanity. Without I’m nothing a shell of a person with demons inside. I need my virtuosity, my flair my finesse its what makes me, me. I cannot abide being boring and trite and that is precisely what the medication had done. Sure the demons seemed tamed but they weren’t they were lying under the surface in clandestine torment of my soul. Waiting for the fissure in my reason to storm back out and make their presence known. They were screaming in silence and I was dumb enough to believe they were gone. I got too comfortable and it incensed their very beings. They shrieked to get out. The noise is getting louder now but my abilities are coming back I can do this this time I’ll be strong enough to win. I pray this is the truth but I know I am a lie so maybe I am amiss again. Maybe I will lose but it is better than being the banal abhorrent creature the meds had coerced me to. I will not be that person. I might just explode but I would rather be ashes than dust for at least then I leave this hateful world in a blaze of flaming glory rather than a slow dry rot.