Stream of Unconsciousness
I sit here shut tight inside my mind, and look at the confusion laid
out before me in this dim space. A tornado beats against the walls of
my hideaway, frantically trying to break through and invade my oasis
of calm. It is rushing fast, oh so fast. How can anything survive out
there? Surely everything is torn to shreds? Indistinct voices rush
past, and things bash against the walls, trying to break in. But each
hit makes the walls stronger, makes me safer. Safe in here to deal
with the mess laid out before me.
I glance down at the parts, jagged half thoughts and out of focus
memories. I dont know how I know, but I have to put them back
together. They shine too bright, sharp daggers of light leap off them
and plunge into my eyes. Such a mess, such disarray. I am trying to
put together the pieces of a puzzle, of lots of different puzzles with
the pieces all jumbled together, but i can only look at one piece at a
time and never look at what i’ve fit together so far. The tornado and
banging rush me, I have to finish my task before it’s too late. Too
late for what, I don’t know. It’s hard to concentrate.
Start panicking. The noises outside. The pieces that hurt. The
banging. Too much. Too hard. Can’t do it. Don’t even know why I need
to. Feel trapped, but it’s not safe out there. Everything moving too
fast, cut you to ribbons before you see it coming.
I turn away and move into the darkness. No bright lights here. No
glass memories that need fixing together. Just me, and darkness. Safe.
Indistinct voices drift past outside. More banging.
Bang. Bang. Knock. Knock. There’s noone home.
Leave me alone.