crazy

Ludicrous.

Do you ever experience that feeling where it's like your brain is going too fast, too slow, caught in quicksand, no, make it jello? Do you ever feel like you're flying by the seat of your pants, even though you aren't moving, you're barely even breathing? Do you ever get to the point that there's this screaming in your head, and you know only you can hear it, but you still cover your ears like that's going to make it any quieter? Like that's going to help at all? You only look as crazy as you feel. You only hope that nobody walks in as you whisper over and over, "SHUTUPSHUTUPSHUTUPSHUTUP", like there's anyone around. You can only hope that eventually the noise will stop, the speeding will slow to the usual monotonous roll you're accustomed to, and that you can go back to being the normal crazy that's dominated your daily existence for what feels like forever. Since before you were born, or even conceived. Like there is no other option, because how could you have ever been even slightly sane, with this kind of obliterating madness annihilating everything you thought was good? HOW CAN THIS BE OKAY? HOW CAN THEY NOT SEE OR HEAR IT?

Do they even care, or are you really this good at pretending, now, that everything's fine, that they truly believe you? Or do they stay ignorant to avoid getting caught up in the whirling hell of your world?

Does anyone notice at all when you're not around? That you're not listening? That you can't, for all the noise and screaming and whispers and terrible events occurring within you? Do they know what it's like? Have they ever gone a day that was an hour that felt like an eternity?

There is no way I'm alone in this. I keep saying it, over and over, and maybe one day that means it could be true. I can't be alone in this. Because alone in madness is worse than any other kind of alone out there. It's binding, it's brutal, and it will destroy every cell of your pathetic, weak, all-too-human body. It will rip to shreds your mind, and throw a needle and dental floss at you, for later, when you might possibly be capable of stitching the pieces back together. It's mocking, taunting, shrill, and cruel. It's something that allows nothing else. It is the distraction; it is tormentor, it is punishment, it is the be-all, end-all. There is nothing else.

It is.