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An Entry of Insanity

To whom it may concern,

Sitting in a van with a squealing belt. Somebody, please fix it. It announces to the unwelcome my position. Stealth is incapable in that white six seat van. White like a kidnaper's van. Swollen with lingering thoughts of blinded children. I shudder to think of it. Yet every-time I leave for school, I can't help but step back from the van. Even in it's cold dead silence. It haunts me.

Am I morbid? Depressed? Or do I just like hearing myself talk? Fragments echoing. Not finding a new fix. A new vent. I vent through art. So writing is just there. Another way to hear myself talk. Or maybe I just like the sudden sting my words form. Begging me to break down. Just begging. Always in the back of my mind. Break down. But I have. Spilled erasable ink on a white board. Writing what I wish to scream, yet I only silently plead others to read. To feel my insanity. Am I? I wish them to tell me. I know not that of normal clockwork. Does my mind tick right?

I only sleep to end the day. When I wish for another, I sleep. It could be in the middle of class, or as the sun falls. I end it. Laziness and fat is found with such a habit. Followed by low energy and lack of physical health. I'm falling. Falling into the nothingness of life. FAT. I wish not to be another obese number. I do not wish it, yet I hate the smell of steamed vegetables.

I'm ranting and raving, and you may ask what has this to do with a journal entry? This IS my journal entry. I do not record my day in events, but thoughts. From rolling on blacktop listening to the belt whine, to ending it. Physically and mentally. An end. Done.

To Whom it may Concern,
I think I'm going insane.

Author notes

My thoughts.
My journal.
Myself.
Me.

A contest entry

Please tell me what you think

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Comments


  • warrior-eagle
    December 12, 2007

    Edit | Reply
    This is a journal entry,
    thanks for enterng this contest and for sharing with this random person.
    Sometimes I do question a lot of things and instead of dealing with the problems i face i rather go to sleep,let it be sleep OR just death.
    Considering the fact that i am a christian-jesus' follower.
    I ask Him my questions and thankfully get an answer.
    Anyways,now am sounding as if am writing in my journal.
    Anyways,thanks.

    ..Simply Me♥


    • Inverted-Hearts
      December 12, 2007
      Edit | Reply
      Is it not to be?
      If not I can change it.
      I am a christain and find myself randomly opening the bible and hopeing to read what he wants me to. See what it is he wants me to see.
      Thanks for reading, and again if it's not to be a journal entry i can always fix it to be poem format.


  • Hiatus
    December 12, 2007

    Edit | Reply
    All day, I think about the finanaci sequence when I go outside so I can avoid thinking about how day-in-day-out my existence is. I think about the Universe, God. I ask myself, "Am I Real? Is This Happening?" because I know, deep down, it is.

    Every fucking day I do the same damn thing.

    The sad part is every day is different, but at this point, it all feels the same. The only thing that ever seems to mark a change is how -I- think or feel.