RANDOM WRITINGS OF INSANITY

(thoughts of a delusionary pyschopath whose minor cyerbonotic intentions have leaked out onto the internet into written form without regret or remorse)

ii miss her more and more everyday.

i keep losing pictures to the puzzle...but i still know what the picture is suppose to look like.

I sit beside a lonely fire and pray for wisdom. For calmess to remember of courage to forget. When we are parted let me lie in some far corner of your heart silent and from the world like a forgotten melody.

The trouble with living alone, the reason why most people don't like to be alone even for a little while is that the longer you live alone, the louder the voices on the right side your brain get. These voices don't request attention they demand it. It is easy to become frightened of them to think they meant madness after all.

Insanity is limiting possiblities. Insanity is refusing to go down certain paths or speculation even though the logic is there.

Happiness was kicked across his mind the way an errant billiard ball will roll across the clean green felt of a pool table. Then it was gone.

The part of him that still wanted to live seemed to have no arguements left, no delaying tactics. His poetry had deteriorated. His mind had deteriorated. it's just the hurting's all the time now. I'm like a bomb walking around and looking for a place to go off. Time to defuse.

Chaos often breeds life, when order brings habit.

A man should always consider how much he has more than he wants and how much more unhappy he might be than he really is.

i would die silently rather than yell for help. It's not a question of love or affection. I can give those and I can take them. I feel pain like anyone else. I need to touch and be touched. But if someone asks me, "Are you all right?" I can't answer no. I can't say help me.

there's something creepy about any repeating dream, I think, about knowing your subconscious is digging obsessively at some object that won't be dislodged.

i would scream as the sanity leaves my mind forever. I would scream but there is no one out there to hear me.

i don't think about anything and yet i thought about everything.

People with a high tolerance of boredom can get alot of thinking done.

i feel empty and somehow forelon, like a faithful lover who has been dropped and cannot understand why.

lifes not a book....

Reality is thin. I think it is thin, you know, thin as lake ice after a thaw, and we fill our lives with noise and light and motion to hide that thiness from ourselves. But it some places, you find that all the smoke and mirrors have been removed. What is left is the sound of your heart in your chest, the beat of blood against the back of your eyes, and the look of the sky as the day's blue blood runs out of its cheek. What comes in when daylight leaves is a kind of certainty: that beneath the skin there is a secret, some mystery both black and bright. You feel this mystery in every breath, you see it in every shadow, you expect to plunge into it at every turn of a step.

fear: Fuck Everything And Run

What if death drives us insane? What if we survive, but it drives us insane? What then?

Wondering if your able. Wondering if your thinking about, me. Wondering if your lonely. Wondering if it's time to leave. Thinking of you and me, sending time, having moments, wondering if this is the way it should be. Hoping if your willing, hoping that your okay, wondering if it's time, wondering if it's today. Moments passing, moments running away, wondering if this is real. Wondering if this is all okay.

My neighbor killed his wife the other day. He told me all about it as we leaned on each side of our white picked fence, enjoying a cool light beer in the warm, sunny, Sunday afternoon. He explained, in some detail the lengths he went to, to kill his wife. Told me how it started Friday night, when we had that evil thunder storm, which blew my plastic patio furniture away. She was upset about something, he said, he couldn't remember what it was about, but he was sure it was something to do with him. She was ranting on and screaming, throwing his fine collection of breast shaped beer mugs around. So, in return he smashed her head in with his lucky putter, the same one he used to defeat me on the 18th hole only a week ago in fact. He cracked her skull right open, just one mighty single blow. The blood was slow at first, but before he knew it a large pool had formed over the dinning room floor. Same dinning room I had played poker in with him and his friends not more then three nights ago. He finished his beer and spoke of how he dragged her body out to the yard, he laughed and remarked about how heavy she had been, and with the shovel he had borrowed off me so long ago, barred her. Right there in his backyard. Under his children's rusty old swing set.

If you had tried, maybe just a little, a touch here, maybe a soft kiss or words, things wouldn't have worked out this way. Haven't you ever wonder, as our lives move so quick, just stopped to think? You and me, spending some time together, would it really be that bad? If you don't love me, why don't you just say? Put it in a card, mail your love away. Your eyes haunt my every thought, in the darkness of my head. Your voice trapped, whispering in my twisted mind repeating the things I wish you had never said. I can feel you near when I close my eyes late at night, sleepless in my bed, your body pressing against me, the way your hand feels gripping mine as I move gently over your breast, the other placed lovingly on the inside of your warm thighs, the taste of your lips and the smell of your hair, your skin soft, magical next to mine. Why is it so hard to forget? Why don't you want to be with me? Am I wrong to think this way? Was it something I said? Why is this love only one way?

She thought of him today, unlike yesterday and last week. Screaming as the traffic raced by her face, raced by this place. What would it matter? Smashing their lives together, one big show for the world. She never stopped to wonder? She never asked any questions? I Wonder what it would have been like for him, for her to see things that way. Big as her world. even larger then his visions. Why would she leave him like that? Funny how we see things standing on the outside, I hope he doesn't die today.

It came too fast Didn't see it pass I wonder if she got home alright She'll soon be missed I never got to kiss her goodbye And I wonder if she feels she got away I never knew What love could do But my friends said it blew me away Got lots of time To speak my mind But now my listener is gone Don't talk on the phone I drink alone I'm sure this thing will pass real soon I won't stay down I'll get around But I still wonder if she feels she got away

i couldn't sleep last night or the night before or the night before that in fact i haven't slept right for months. Only when you don't sleep you realize how lucky you are when you can. But lack of sleep leads to creativity or insanity.

all my life i've been told everything i have said has been a lie. been told i was selfish or self centered which is sort of true. i think of myself before i do others. because when i have put other first i just ended up with a broken heart. don't get me wrong though i would do anything to help anyone. i am always there for others when they need it. something i was taught by my parents.

all i ask for people is honesty...because that is one of the few things i can offer to others. i don't have good looks...i am not "cool" or however you want to say it..but i try to be completely honest with people and try to do everything in my power to be there for someone with whatever they need. but you know i am not a loser or anything i got a romantic side i am willing to try new things. if i looked good i would be an asshole but since i don't i don't have that option.

i am over the past, too much anarchy in the present, and i am uncertain of the future. i know what i need to survive i know what i want to be happy. neither of which looks too promising right now.

all things happen for a reason. no matter what it is. everything happens because it is suppose to not until after do you know why. let it play out and you will see why.

People get what they deserve. i am paying for the people i have hurt. and those who have hurt me will get theres.

we are all put to the test but not in the form we prefer.

"sometimes the bad guy wins and justice is not served"

god is an asshole and i am going to hell for thinking that. that pretty much somes up my religious beliefs.

women...still no comment...ok maybe one comment i don't understand females nor do i think i am suppose to. i think they like it better that way.

i feel like shit about some things in my past but i refuse to apologize any more for them.

Atlantic/Chrsyler is filled with some of the biggest bullshitters on the planet but one guy knows trent reznor so he's cool but the rest of them all need to be fired. if you talk to me you would understand.

There needs to be more fishing.

Thanks Tommy (inside joke)

i don't hate anyone but i would like to see alot of people killed.

i think one day i will end robbing a bank or shooting a whole bunch of people from a clock tower or something not because i want to but because i will run out of paper or my internet will break.

my dog (NITRO) is neat but it needs to stop licking himself just felt like throwing that in. just sounds real fucking funny at 2:30 in the morning.

greed will destroy society one day

respect and honor is something that needs to be earned, love should be cherished, pain should be learned from.

stupidity should be painful...

life moves pretty fast if you don't stop to look around sometimes you might miss it.

ok enough of the stupid quotes for one night. maybe this would be the time to say something intelligent....nah nevermind duh...here is a story instead

Two men, both seriously ill, occupied the same hospital room. One was allowed to sit up in his bed for an hour each afternoon to drain the fluid from his lungs. His bed was next to the room's window. The other man had to spend all his time flat on his back. The men talked for hours on end. They spoke of their wives and families, their homes, their jobs, their involvement in the service, where they had been on vacation. And every afternoon when the man in the bed by the window could sit up, he would pass the time by describing to his roommate all the things he could see outside the window. The man in the other bed began to live for those one-hour periods where his would be broadened and enlivened by all the activity and color of world outside. The window overlooked a park with a lovely lake. Ducks and swans played on the water while children sailed their model boats. Young lovers walked arm in arm amidst flowers of every color of the rainbow. Grand old trees graced the landscape, and a fine view of the city skyline could be seen in the distance. As the man by the window described all this in exquisite detail, the man on the other side of the room would close his eyes and imagine the pictures scene. One warm afternoon the man by the window described a parade passing by. Although the other man couldn't hear the band he could see it in his mind's eye as the gentleman by the window portrayed it with descriptive words. Days and weeks passed. One morning, the day nurse arrived to bring water for their baths only to find the lifeless body of the man by the window, who had died peacefully in his sleep. She was saddened and called the hospital attendants to take the body away. As soon as it seemed appropriate, the other man asked if he could be moved next to the window. The nurse was happy to make the switch, and after making sure he was comfortable, she left him alone. Slowly, painfully, he propped himself up on one elbow to take his first look at the world outside. Finally, he would have the joy of seeing it for himself. He strained to slowly turn to look out the window beside the bed. It faced a blank wall. The man asked the nurse what could have compelled his deceased roommate who had described such wonderful things outside this window. The nurse responded that the man was blind and could not even see the wall. She said, "Perhaps he just wanted to encourage you."Epilogue. . . .There is tremendous happiness in making others happy, despite our own situations. Shared grief is half the sorrow, but happiness when shared, is doubled. If you want to feel rich, just count all of the things you have that money can't buy. "Today is a gift, that's why it is called the present."

"just get the fuck over it and have a good time"

To be continued...back to main page.