Madness

There Is A Madness In The False World

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“There is a madness in the false world we have created; that world’s only lessons are tension and fear — relax into yourself. Take your lessons from nature. Let quietness instruct you. If you pay attention and listen to quietness, you will notice a nearly imperceptible thread of consciousness, like a quiet hum or a perception of time. We have all noticed this feeling when we have been alone in nature, or in a quiet room. This space of consciousness peacefully advances — undisturbed by the surface tensions in your responsive mind. You can move into this space of mind at will; you are a dimension of this awareness. You are this calm thread of awareness witnessing the gentle unfolding of your perfect self. When you commune with your ever-present inner calm, you are released from the madness and pain of all outer turmoil. Your unstoppable nature is becoming and blooming — you simply, are. Go easy. Don’t search for your purpose. You are not defining your purpose — your purpose is defining you. You are unfolding with profound purpose; your purpose is revealing you, to yourself. Run to yourself. Life is so big. Do not try to fill it. Instead, expand within. You are enough for you. —Bryant McGill

Write The Poems

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“The nutritionist said I should eat root vegetables. Said if I could get down thirteen turnips a day, I would be grounded, rooted. Said my head would not keep flying away to where the darkness lives.

The psychic told me my heart carries too much weight. Said for twenty dollars she’d tell me what to do. I handed her a twenty. She said, “Stop worrying, darling. You will find a good man soon.”

The first psychotherapist told me to spend three hours each day sitting in a dark closet with my eyes closed and ears plugged. I tried it once, but couldn’t stop thinking about how gay it was to be sitting in the closet.

The yogi told me to stretch everything but the truth. Said to focus on the out breath. Said everyone finds happiness
when they care more about what they give than what they get.

The pharmacist said “Lexapro, Lamictal, Lithium, Xanax.”

The doctor said an anti-psychotic might help me forget what the trauma said.

The trauma said, “Don’t write these poems. Nobody wants to hear you cry about the grief inside your bones.”

But my bones said, “Tyler Clementi jumped from the George Washington Bridge into the Hudson River convinced
he was entirely alone.”

My bones said, “Write the poems.”

―Andrea Gibson

I have felt this way more times than I care to count, and it’s getting worse. I broke down yesterday in despair and exactly two people reached out to me, which lets me know it’s time to weed people out of my life once more.

Cat, knowing something was very wrong with Mommy, crawled into my lap, sat by my feet while I forced myself to eat dinner, and was in bed with me before my head hit the pillow last night. I slept solidly for the first time in months, not so much as moving, as far as I can tell. Upon waking, Cat was in the same spot by my feet and Kitten was coming in to check on us. If I didn’t have these two little beings in my life with their unconditional love, I would probably be dead. It makes me sick to my core that animals care and love far more than people. Today, this quote resonates in more ways than one.

For a Torture To Be Effective…

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“For a torture to be effective, the pain has to be spread out; it has to come at regular intervals, with no end in sight. The water falls , drop after drop after drop, like the second hand of a watch, carving up time. The shock of each individual drop is insignificant, but the sensation is impossible to ignore. At first, one might manage to think about other things, but after five hours, after ten hours, it becomes unendurable. The repeated stimulation excites the nerves to a point where they literally explode, and every sensation in the body is absorbed into that one spot on the forehead—indeed, you come to feel that you are nothing but a forehead, into which a fine needle is being forced millimeter by millimeter. You can’t sleep or even speak, hypnotized by a suffering that is greater than any mere pain. In general, the victim goes mad before a day has passed.” ―Yōko Ogawa