Insane

I’ve always considered myself insane, lunatic, demented and mad, and I’m sorry I make you go through this with me, because no matter what I do I do not seem to be sane.

I’m sorry you have to look at me suffer, and afflicting myself with horrific things, but I’m an artist, a fucking artist that doesn’t feel inspired unless I’m undergoing pain.

But you see I don’t expect you to understand my psychopathy nor me, because to be honest I can hardly comprehend myself.

I’m an accumulation of messy atoms, of chaos, some sort of explosion of emotions and I never settle for anything because i’m always too confused to make a choice. I want nothing or everything, and there’s no harmony in my choices.

I am the architect of my own destruction, the captain of my wrecked raft, and I only feel happy whenever I am in agony and that’s when I feel everything at last.

So I trip over anguish just like people trip over cocaine, and I’m sorry you have to look at the scenery and wonder why the hell I am pushing you away, but this is the only way I know how to live, the only way I can.

And I once read this quote saying ‘we’re all addicted to something that takes away the pain’, but I couldn’t relate to it, because I do everything to ache.

I aim this distress, I aim this torture, I aim this pang and thats why I keep on looking at life with such a pessimistic outlook, to add up to my chaotic mind, my tormented thoughts, horrific conscious, some distress and throes.

I am poison to my heart, and I’m sorry you have to sit there and watch me collapse, and not being able to do anything to extenuate my pain but someday it might get better, or maybe happiness is not made me for me.

Like in modern art, I keep on splattering my emotions just like contemporary painters splatter and throw colours on white canvas. There’s some kind of order in what he does however people look at his masterpiece, the same way they look at me superficially and hardly understand me or not at all, and that’s why people assume I’m deranged.

But it’s in the way that he silenced the demons within me,

By putting his hands around my waist,

That I thought that maybe,

Just maybe,

I am not that insane.