Corners of my Mind

[Cashy]

(quick piece to get back into things, I haven't posted on these forums for years )

 

 

Corners of my Mind - Luca's Perspective

 

 

 

The calm nights in September contrast the thoughts that rage on fighting each other in my mind. It feels as if it's plotting against me. 

 

Wait- sh*t, of course, I'm paranoid. That's why. 

 

I try to obtain a state of flux, or numbness, so the rest of myself can find some centre; an anchor point in time so that I can remind myself that at one time or another, just at one point, there was peace where usually stands chaos. My mind feels like how an AI must feel - the only difference being, the output of an AI will serve some purpose. This does not. I lie alert, waiting for one of the possibilities to come to fruition. I lie awake, like a sniper, awaiting it's target. Calm, even relaxed, on the surface - but ever alert. 

 

That siren-- is it for me? ...are they coming?! 

 

No; it never is. It's just me. Me and my thoughts. As some form of relief swells over me, the confusion is in the post. And then back to the routine. Lying awake, staring into almost darkness, save for the light emitting from the street light outside my window.

 

It's difficult to recall a time when it wasn't like this. 

 

It is difficult.

 

It is difficult to wear my mask, day after day, whilst something pulls the strings behind the scenes. 

 

I toy with the idea of reaching out to someone close, but who is close now? Who would even understand? I mean, damn... Who would even care? No one is close anymore. All the time I invested in their problems was not a mutually beneficial arrangement - it's a lesson I fail to learn time, time, time and time again. Which is why everytime this happens, it's worse. I don't know where this ends. 

 

But I have an out. A 'game over' strategy. 

 

...And yet, that strategy has been there for a while. I can't bring myself to pursue it. What might I be leaving behind? What might I not see? What will I miss? If I go, I'll never know. But, the knowledge it's there for me... 

 

...A strange form of comfort. Like a warm but knife edged blanket, that I wear around my consciousness 7 days a week. 

 

I have to wonder if anyone notices that I'm not okay. That I'm not okay and have not been for some time. Does anyone notice things like I do? Why is it so easy for me to spot when people are like this. Are they afraid to ask? Or do they not care? Or are they glad? Some of them must be. Most probably don't care. 

 

Hmm... it's an interesting concept. Who knows. 

 

 

It's 3am now. I should sleep. 

 

As I put my phone to silent, to the bedside table beside me, I catch a glimpse of the mask I wear, just led there, facing me, softly smiling. No one else sees it as a mask, but I've known it to be for a number of years. It stares back at me, offering a reassuring smile; as if to say "it's alright to wear me - why would you want anyone to know about what goes on in the corners of your mind? I protect you. I've been your friend since as long as you can remember. It's just us now; and no one is coming to save you". 

 

 

The mask slyly grins "Sleep well, old friend". 

 

 

[Cashy]

Corners of my Mind - Callum's philosophy

 

October's dawned, and it's been a long time now. Been a long time since I was able to sleep decently. Missing uni, missing nights out, missing football.. About 17 texts I'll have to respond to at some point. 17 lies I'll have to tell about where I've been. More guilt over that undoubtedly... yeah, stick it on the bill. Add...  to that growing number, compiled completely of guilt, regret, depression, anxiety, paranoia...

 

My mind against me. Or looking out for me? That's what I thought at first.. 

 

It's protection. Like instinct, like gut feeling, like foul wind in the air, like a sign of bad things to come... Is it looking out for me? 

 

This feels more like being held back, being controlled, like a puppet on a string.. 

 

And yet on the surface, it's just blank. I look at myself in the reflection of the screen of my phone, softly shouting back at me that it's currently 1:54, of the am. I just don't recognise myself, even looking from behind my own eyes. It's weird, man. I wonder how scarred my mind is at current count? Probably too difficult to measure - scars of all sizes and shapes, each one like a reminder of each one. 

 

But like the thoughts I have day-to-day, it's just thought. It's consciousness. f*ck me, it's just chemical reactions. Happening thousands of times over at any given second, and the reactions manifesting through the receptors in my brain.

 

Brain, mind.. it's hard to remember that these are two separate concepts, but essentially the same entity. It's a design flaw of evolution. To give humans the amazing gift of conscious thought, and to try and contemplate the chances of it being like it is, tires me extensively. It's all science; all science greater brains and minds than mine have attempted to explain. Varying theories, some more probable than others, and still the questions are asked hundreds of years past and future. So why am I burdened with it? Why do I ask what's the difference? Maybe the answer's up there somewhere, among all the mess. Might be buried under something important or maybe it'll make itself known, it's just circumstantially dependant. Hah, I'm no stranger to moments of clarity. But time will provide the answer, so long as time does what it does best; tell. The science behind it all may get explained

 

But yet, for the moment, I'm still here... In a loop of receptor reactions, feeling this particular way. It's logical, but it doesn't provide what I desperately seek the most at the moment - that's calm. Just a bit of order behind the border in one of the corners of my mind. Just to live normally for a little while. It's tiring faking a smile. 

 

Honestly, I'm tired. Like I'm sure many others like me are tired. But in the depths of my exhaustion of day-to-day life, I know, that I'm not alone. Someone, somewhere, is feeling how I am. I lack the strength in myself but I know there's strength in numbers. 

 

The logic of the theories overwhelm me at times, but I have to believe that maybe somewhere, someone knows a cure for this. Someone has a little something for what ails me. A little something from someone who's suffering the same fate somewhere. And maybe I'll find them one day. If I can imagine the possibility, surely there's some, however thin, probability it could happen, right? 

 

And maybe if we can all find it, that'll be the night that I'll sleep alright 

Edited October 19, 2018 by Cashy
grammatical edit