01.28.2013
That's Amore
Tonight everyone realizes they're "crazy". It is one of those special moments in solitary torture where the wool is lifted. And a quiet descends. And two lone bodies feel that they look down on the insanity from a hill of understanding.
But these two men may be the craziest, standing unprotected on a mountain as dying bodies lay in death throes in valleys.
We have come to this utter desolation where there's nowhere to hide but accusation.
THEY'RE crazy. Yes, each has his own flavor. One just ignores everyone. Period. No ifs, ands or buts. Three ignore everyone only when out of coffee. One takes and takes food and candy and attention all day and all night. Like a baby.
One never laughs. One can't stop.
We boomerang from compassion to animosity. From friendship to scheming.
When you sit listening to muttering and angry throws, punches, flushes; when you can hear the tears underneath sentences, feel the suicide over top of the screaming anger; when you can't help but play along, or help to not play at all, depending on the minute emotion one uses as a compass to discern direction.
When you don't know when to do what but repeat what happened yesterday. And the yesterday before yesterday. And on and on.
When you know in your bones that if you ever leave here people will laugh, run off or ridicule your quirks, foibles and psychosis.
This is when crazy is realized in the crazy. When hands hold skulls shaven and scarred. When palms run down long faces and sighs escape lips planted on shaking heads.
When you lose your mind it's tragic, when you discover your mind's been lost, it's horrible. When you know everyone you know is crazy too, and institutionalized, and this is where you'll die...
2013 aug 20
|
2013 aug 20
|
2013 aug 20
|
2013 aug 20
|
2013 aug 20
|
2013 aug 3
|
More... |
Replies