My Evil Pen Told Me to Write This – 3

bleeding

My Evil Pen Told Me to Write This – 3

I am a mere scab upon this world as the whole planet wants to pick on me. Beware world, this is my turn! When I straddle this pen, I can kill you with my mind. I would scribble this world as an ignited cherry-bomb to have revenge upon you and you alone. Why individually miss a target when I can wipe clean the table in one sitting? I have eaten a dictionary. Each page thrashes out and rustles with a shiver with the knowledge of what my pen is about to carve upon its skin. Get them, boy!

if i fall asleep

I am wearing my madness as a medal; this world will not allow me to forget what I am, so neither should I. Bring forth your scrolls of paper and your flickering quills, condemn me, crush me and quarter my limbs; for I will write myself a new destiny, one where you are all alone in the darkness where I have lived, let us see how the monsters shall treat you in time.

michael phelps

I am running on the fumes of past fears, my memory sticks out from my brain as a protruding cocktail sticks. Lobotomize these thoughts forever Alex! There is madness in my method of writing, yes, but my method in which I use helps tame the madness into a constructive horror show for you all. I am a master sculptor with a pen, chipping away at my mental illness so you can see revulsion from my perspective. Behold a masterpiece from my membrane pieces. Doctor, open me up and fish these voices from me; Priest, open my soul and take this ghost that is haunting the hallways of this body!

ernest hemingway

Fear is only a choice – A brain tidal wave! I choose to grant it, as it is the only thing to ever stay consent within my life and thinking. These words are actually flesh-eating ants, that when you inhale with your eyes, they feast upon your brains. Yummy!

If you think reading is boring

I am cold towards this world, hence the shoulder barge; I am marvellously a marvel with a heroic heart which has stopped beating; I am burning words along with my cape to keep mildly warm from your frozen breathes.

rained upon

I am running naked in the rain for revenge, pointed fingers and tuts ensue. I have made a deal with the devil; if I use him to write and give him a purpose, he would return the favour. My words are jumbled and my blog is a jungle book; can you hear me roar in pain on my pages? My apple has fallen light-years from my family tree; my DNA is not even human, let alone the same as my mothers.

Risk

I’m living in your walls; I know all of your dirty little secrets. What you do when no one is looking and what you think to yourselves when no one is around. You’re all damaged, just like me. I was brewed in the chaos of humans malfunctions, now I have doctors telling me I’m the one that needs fixing?

edgar allen poe

“You have me confused with all of them, wait! Please don’t lock me up, I was happy before they came into my life and broke all of my windows.”

Now I am smashing each of their windows in revenge, well, I do need a breakthrough. Haha! I’m not aiming for the stars, the sky is far enough, this where I will explode into smithereens and my ashes will twinkle downwards upon the clouds and wreak havoc with acid rain. Is it a bird? Is it a plane? Nope; it’s only blindness for looking for me. Haha!

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8 Comments

Filed under Author, Blog, Blogging, Books, Fiction, Interview, Life, Literacy, Literary Agent, Love, Mental Health, Misc, My Insane Scribblings, Random, Wordpress, Writer, Writing, Writing #2

8 responses to “My Evil Pen Told Me to Write This – 3

  1. WB

    Hemingway was an excellent writer; it wasn’t until he lost mental control did he take his life, and what inspired his death, was that he felt that he had lost everything, when he could no longer write. Sad story, but an excellent writer.

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  2. My pleasure. I always admire an educated tone upon my writing from others. Thank you.

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  3. I love this post. Everything you write Alexander is beautiful and true. I believe that hIghly creative people always dig deep into their soul and often it is gut wrenching to find meaning in who we are in this world where we exist tenuously. But, when we find a glimmer of enlightenment everything comes into focus for a brief moment. But, then another never-ending quest begins – so desperate is our need to understand ourselves and the world around us. Perhaps, Hemingway felt the same way.

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  4. Pingback: My Evil Pen Told Me To Write This | Adult & Teen Fiction

  5. Reblogged this on Adult & Teen Fiction and commented:

    My Evil Pen Told me to Write This 3!

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