My brain won't shut up.

I am silent on the outside, but in my head there is such incessant chatter. I think that maybe writing will help to get it out so that it will leave me alone. But, increasingly, it's proving less and less effective.

A string has been cut loose. Now things that were once contained in my head are constantly running amuck. An electrical current is sparking at the end of the cord, violently thrashing, trying to get to its severed half. So that a thought may be completed. A message may be sent to those that are desperate and waiting.

Something isn't connected right.

Outside stimuli becomes less and less real. Food is bland. Sight is dim. Skin is numb. I cannot listen. The head has to tend to the chaos inside rather than deal with the outside world. Increasingly, reality becomes a dream. My eyes no longer see what is there, but rather what is in the head. Everything is seen through the mind, making it distorted, dark, and unreal. And unpleasantly biased.

Life becomes emotion only.

And nothing else matters.

*

Wanting to be, to hear and to see
Crying to the sky
But the porpoise is laughing good-bye, good-bye
good-bye, good-bye, good-bye