~~War Against the Madness--A Rant~~

I want, I want, I want.

I hate, I hate, I hate.

I need, I need, I need.

What’s right? What’s wrong? What’s going on? As far as I know my mind’s been broken and the fact that I’m alive is in fact barely known. I’m standing beneath the eyes of Figments, the eyes of Gods and Devils. I’m drowning in the Balance, the thing barely kept. My Figments stand in line, waiting for me to be alive. Waiting and watching, wondering when my time to burn will come. And we’re all waiting to burn. We’re looking around us, and we’re waiting for the torches and the pitchforks and the rope that won’t give and the hopeless strength of a wooden stake. We’re waiting for the finality of it all, the end of the fight and the endless night. As the past becomes an unending sea of pain, we stare into the darkness with something akin to hope. And all we’re hoping for is the straight and fast—the way out of this maze, this labyrinth. We know we’re waiting for it. We know that it’s the only thing we want, but we seek to hide our dark desire with the light. We hide our hatred with our love, our weakness with our strength, our grim smiles with our reckless laughter, the incomprehensible logic with the all-encompassing stupidity, and the jealousy and envy with the pride. Most of all, we shield our inner bitterness from the world with sweet words and deeds. And, in the end of it all, who among my Figments is any different from humanity? All of us in the end are the same way. Living for the dying is the only way to live. And only through the pain can you truly learn the lessons that need to be taught you.

I wonder if I will grow out of this, if this bitterness will maintain throughout my life or if it will fade away as I age. Is this life-long feelings, or is it simply nothing more than angst? I am quiet and afraid about this side of me—the side of me possessed by the cold heartlessness of the Madness. The side of me that speaks in song lyrics, dances in strait jackets beneath the unforgiving single eye of a full moon, and drowns itself in lust and depravity. The Madness, her old form slaughtered only to be replaced by wolves and midnight armies, still lives and flourishes within me. So beautiful…..So beautiful….

But then Raphael rises up, harsh and proud and so freaking real that I forget the Madness. At least for a time, my Figments maintain the Balance that is Sanity, maintain the Semblance of normalcy.
And I delight in it for a time, seeking what shelter is available. But there isn’t that much shelter at all.

But it’s the only thing I can live in.

If I fall to the Madness, I become what many people do. I become the fallen shoe at the side of the train tracks, no longer part of a pair but a singular lonely thing. I’m happy enough to be alive, but….But one day I’ll let myself fall.