Slaughter

In a war torn life

We’re all alone

Pain and sorrow

Is all we’ve ever known
So we grabbed a knife

To get it done

They promised us

That it’d be fun
Brother,sister

Mother,father

All of fucking life’s creator

They asked of us to slaughter
Slaughter!

Slaughter!

Slaughter!

Slaughter!
Why is it that we go to war?

Is a peaceful reality really so far?
We were asked to go with non-partial fists

To be devoid and feel nothing like nihilist

To break all our bonds and forget our pain

To wash ourselves in an endless bloodied rain
Brother,sister

Mother,father

All of fucking life’s creator

They asked of us to slaughter
Slaughter!

Slaughter!

Slaughter!

Slaughter!
Why is it that we still go to war?

Is a peaceful reality really so far?

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Inner Assassins

This is an article/short story written from the point of view of a sufferer of mental disorders in an attempt to create awareness about depression, insomnia,split personality, paranoia, schizophrenia,bipolar disorder and various other classifications.

“Hello. I’m writing this because I’m unable to organise my thoughts on the go and only because you really want to know what happens inside my head, instead of trying to predict my state of mind. I understand why you want to know, I mean no one is capable of predicting anybody’s state of mind. If it is of any comfort to you, for me to tell you what happens in my head, then I will. How you take it is not in my hands. I’m not too sure how I can explain it, but I will do my best.

On a regular day

I wake up. It’s morning. The first thoughts that usually come to my head are – “I haven’t died yet?/ Why am I still alive?/ Should I leave everything and go?/ Why am I like this?/ I hate myself/ I need to kill myself/ What good am I?/ What good is my existence to anyone?” (I’m going to name this T1). 

And then I get out of my bed exhausted. Even after a good night’s sleep. I need a smoke. Somewhere in the back of my head- “I need death” gets repeated until I put on some music to distract myself. I then get out and remember everything. Everything. All of it. All. Of. It. I’m filled with pain, guilt and remorse. I lose track of music and “T1” repeats again until I finish my smoke. Then I think about my day. I tell myself that I need to be with you through the day and mentally prepare myself for it, thinking to myself that I need to stay focused. Reminding myself that I need to be in control of my thoughts and emotions. T2 – “I love you a lot/You make me happy/You need me/ We are happy/ I really hope we make this work/I need to take care of you”. There’s a huge conflict of thoughts and emotions by this time. Everything inside shuts down and I feel nothing. One hour of my waking day.

I get back. Breakfast is ready. Food. I’m unable to stand the sight of it. Everybody’s rushing to get ready and leave. T3-“Always invisible to them/No one cares/I’m tired/I need sleep”. I’m asked something, I don’t know what it is because I’m unable to pay attention. Answer is an autopilot nod. “T1”. I get out again. Back to smoke. Except with a vehicle this time. A quicker pace towards Death. “T3” and “T1” on loop. I get back. I’m late. Get ready. Autopilot. Eat a bit. Leave.


At work

Nothing. No emotions. No thoughts. Autopilot. Converse. Smile. Fit in. Listen to you whenever we talk. Respond. Smile. Act the fool to see you smile as well. “T1” and “T2” on loop. Inner conflict after awhile. Everything shuts down again. Tired.

End of the day

Talk to you. Listen. Respond. Smile, try making you smile with me. “T1” and “T2”.
Get back to my sacred place. “T1”. “T3”. Loop.
Home-“T1” and “T3”. Look at my guitar, all of my books and my bed.T4-“Why am I not feeling anything?/I’m exhausted/I need help”.

Out to drink

Finally. A release. Happy amongst whoever is there to drink with me. First half hour-“T3” sets in. Next twenty minutes – “T4”. Keep smiling, paying attention,reacting and responding. Next half hour. Another emotional conflict. Everything inside shuts down. I excuse myself. Look at myself in the mirror. “Get back to normal. Fit in. Fit in”. I repeat this to myself in the mirror until I do calm down. I wash my face and look at myself again. “T3” and “T1”. Get out. Autopilot. If I’m with you then it’s “T2” and “T3”. Sometimes “T4” or “T1”. Alone in a crowded room filled with friends and familiar faces.

In an argument

Prove I’m right. Initially “T2”, “T4” and then “T3”. Prove I’m not wrong. All thoughts get mixed up. Muddled up. Messed up. I don’t know what to say. Anger. Disdain. Sorrow. Pain. T2. Respond. T2. Respond. “T4”. No. Focus on “T2”. “T2” and “T1”. No. Focus on “T2”. “T4” and “T3”. Focus. “T2”. Detach. Autopilot. T2,T4,T3,T1 and T0. All of it. Feel it. Lapse again into the ways of misery. Detach.

Back at home

“T1”. Dinner. Sleep.
“T0”- “Make a change, kill yourself/Find a way to detach from everybody/ Death”. T0 on loop till I fall asleep.

“Where are my pills? Where is the white one? Where is the pink one? Whatever happened to the green one? Where are all of you hiding?”

Fleeting shadows. Subliminal whispers. Visual and auditory hallucinations. Fear.

“What’s that sound? Is anybody there?! Come out! Fuck. Where are the tiny angels who keep me sane?”

“I need a refill.”

This is how it is in my head every waking moment. Even when I’m smiling at you or laughing with you I’m still thinking about Death. Suicide. Hate. Misery. Sorrow. Pain. I haven’t been able to describe it exactly as it happens in my head. You wanted to know how it was inside my head and I have tried my best to put them into words. The repetitions for “T1″,”T3” and “T4″ are far higher than what I’ve mentioned. I have never tried explaining how it is inside my head and this is the first time I have. But I will from now on atleast, never tell you I’m messed up. Apparently suffering from various mental health disorders is not an excuse. I will remember that until the day I die. It is sad. The free-er I feel around you, the more I open up to you. The more I trust you. Only to end up feeling like I’ll drag you into this mess. And then, you’ll resent me. Guess I really can’t be without my mask with anyone. I will be as I was with you before you got to know me. That way atleast, you’ll be happy.”

“It’s never too late to listen,

To hidden tears that glisten”

The Future Is Dead

She stood before me,

The pale greying old woman

Brittle her body,

And distant her gaze

 

My eyes looked upon her,

In pity, in sorry, in empathy

 

She asked me,

Is my future dead?

Her voice just a squek,

Of what it once was

 

Beaten by life,

And the people she surrounded herself with

Mistakes and judgements,

One and the same

 

Is my future dead?

She asked me as she started

To crumble,wither and die

And I said aloud!

 

“Nobody’s future is dead!
You wretched wreck!”

 

And Future appeared,

Before me, in all it’s glory

The youngling kid,

With vacant eyes

 

 

Just as the old hag,

Crumbled into bright blue dust

I said aloud!Again!

“Nobody’s future is dead!

Unless they decide so themselves!”

 

As I finished my sentence,

And looked at Future,

for moral confirmation

 

Future smiled at me,

slit it’s tiny little wrists

and quickly faded away

 

All life drained from it

And my eyes widened!

An invitation to partake in sanity!

 

Depravity!Behold!

The true nature of my blackened soul!

 

I laughed aloud, shouting all the while

Future is dead!

Future is dead!

The Future is dead!

 

Or is it?