Tag Archives: Mushroom cloud

True Evil Holds a Pen


joker-laughs

I am flirting with fire; from normality I had cold-feet. I am a kerfuffle of trouble, there’s no saving me now as I have mushroom-clouds for thought bubbles. They lacerate my world believing they killed me, I’m letting slip my dogs of war until they know me as a reformed super villain. Challenge Completed, Planet Earth; I’m spinning out-of-control, no fault of my own, I couldn’t keep hold. I’m a libertine shoulder barging my way through the captive creators; I’m writing on black paper in the dark.

No brain freeze or frisson, picking up lightening-bolts and throwing them at the pages of rapture I capture. This is merely reverie I reveal and unravel, I time-travel back and thwart all my enemies plans for me. I am no poltroon, I pollute pages personally I made it personal because I am no longer a person. The rain trickles down and washes away all my plights from my face, I change my mind and change my face and I am giving the world hell again, true evil is holding a pen. My calm levels are unstable, upon this page I have too much sycophantic horsepower, I bucking-bronco my way out from this web of life.

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In school, after Maths was English class where I jotted down my aftermath from the bullies pulley, I guess I’m pure vile and puerile, I’m not a Transformer I can transmogrify. Rambunctious to my soul’s battery core; setting my switch to self-destruction. A man can only receive so much failure in his life before superiority takes over his eyes focus. Insanity is a gift from the Gods; I wield and shield it against sanity.

This world sees what they want to see; I could have charming characteristics, suave and soigné, hats off to me, my undercurrent is currently a catastrophe. All passengers, we have a slight insurgence for turbulence and wizen, please, fasten your seatbelts and come join me within my plummet. Its drizzling green and yellow pills, I’m dancing in the pain, I jump in blood puddles and reappear in sky tunnels of bliss. This hurt in my head I play it over and over again, until a joker smirk arises on my face, I’m no longer insane, isn’t life splendiferous.

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Within my writing I cannot be a stentorian, so I must visual lies my memory video-taped life, transplant and transport all of my supercilious kisses of life, these pages are where my wishes go to find a place to die. This world should have boxed me in early, now I can create topsy-turvy from everything that profoundly promotes to hurt me. Here comes the valetudinarian again, turn away, don’t dare turn that page, it’s all of the same. I could be a beacon of silver-lining light, but the doctors beat my head in with a rock to keep me under it for eternity. I am a writer, this is what I do, keep bringing you words and I shall sit here and laugh at you.

This image was selected as a picture of the we...

This image was selected as a picture of the week on the Malay Wikipedia for the 44th week, 2009. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

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The Psycho Writer


English: Animated atomic bomb explosion. Polsk...

English: Animated atomic bomb explosion. Polski: Grzybek atomowy. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

What do you know about fear? “Gee-whizz! That bully won’t leave me alone…” Or “In the joint, me and my home-boys have got each other’s backs, cause you never know when an attack will happen.”

How about this?  I was sitting each my dinner in the asylum the other day, next to a guy named James; he was a schizophrenic, this was one of his better days, he was rather quiet. From out of nowhere a guy named Christian, whose conditions escapes me, lunges across the table and ploughs his teeth into James face. Oh yeah, I am really afraid of any of you when this is my life.

I just want to give you a perspective of what I go through and my outcome when I finish a story. All I have is hope; yes I am out now, but for how long before I am dragged back?

My imagination is my only escape; people like you escape with drugs or booze, but I escape within my words. One day I can only hope I will have escaped it all through my stories.

I was sitting in the doctor’s office the other day; my weekly hourly meeting. And from out of nowhere the wall beside us fell away, which was filled with psycho-books and plaques to tell me how much work this dude has done. It revealed a vast deserted desert, humongous icy mountains and a mushroom cloud which licks the background with it reds and orange aftermath.

“What are you thinking about, Alex?” He gentle puts it.

“Nothing, doc’.” I confide in my day-dream.

“You’re thinking of nothing? I really do doubt it.” He tries to slink into my brain.

“Next question…”

I marvel back into my mind, Superman begins to do battle from the sky on hundreds of Aliens; he swoops down and blasts them with his heat-vision.

A slight smirk on my face.

I wanted to give you guys a day in the life of an actual mental patient and creative writer. You see I am not just a run-of-the-mill writer, who has no money and wants fame to rest his soul. I cannot stop this, I never will. I am a mental patient living and sometimes working as a sane person, who wants to be a writer, no biggie’.

But I do admire some of you sane people; you inspire me so much when this world needs you. And to the rest of you, eat me! And always remember there is someone else out there with a life worse than you, I know I do, I know I am not the only one. But you also have no idea of the why I am the way I am. That is a story I take to my grave.

But I would like you to know I have a few more stories I will be passing your way. Someday it will make a great screenplay for a movie but until then I shall take my medication and keep on pretending to be just like you.

Even for reading this, I thank you; you are the eyes I need when mine steer away and bring forth the darkness I never want.

This has been a psychotic announcement.

The creative writer, Alexander Kennedy.

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