Monthly Archives: October 2014

The price is night

Hello loser. Hey you fucking loser. What, are you trying to sleep? So here it comes. Every fucking thing I’ve fucked up, everyone I’ve hurt, everything I’ve lost decides at this moment to come flooding back into my conscious thought process. Oh no, you couldn’t keep quiet tucked into my subconscious. You couldn’t be satisfied with knowing it’s only a matter of time before I add to the considerable pile stashed in the recessed corners of my mind. Oh no, it’s time. I can hear my conscious Bob Barker shouting, “come on down, the price is fucking right, let’s fuck with him now.”

I’d pay big pharmaceutical dollars to not be typing onto this screen at this moment. I’d love to be in a blissful pharmacological stupor. I’d love to not have fucked up literally everything in my life.

The voices are so loud tonight. Louder than they’ve been in a long time. I keep feeding them. I don’t mean to but it all stays inside. It all stays inside.

My earliest memories are of the screaming voices in my head. Not playing in the backyard on a sunny day, not swinging on a swing, not some warm family moment captured forever on the cover of some hallmark card. I remember the feeling of the screaming in my head. I remember how the screaming in my head made me feel. It hurt my stomach.

It’s funny, I don’t recall ever being able to discern words. It was more the physical impact of the screaming inside my head. I guess it’s like people’s reactions to the sound of fingernails on a blackboard. But not really.

A recoil. How do you recoil from a sound in your head. Unlike the blackboard you can’t physically move away from sounds in your head.

Ormond Street. Right off of Bridgeport avenue. That’s where I first heard them. Actually, that’s where I first felt them.

I remember trying to cover my ears so I couldn’t hear them. It didn’t work. Nothing worked. Nothing works.

It’s okay though. They’re my noise and my voices. Weird though, they are not my screams.

There you go, are you happy now? You bastards of cranial cacophony.

Don’t be afraid, it’s all in my head.

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