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Paranoia. I was never a problem, as such, more an answer. When you have nothing, when you are alone, to have something, anything, is a comfort. Solace in hurting my mind, stabbing bit by bit until all my reasoning is nothing more than a memory. I suppose it's better than being dull. Watching people wander back and forth through a life that holds no purpose and no end. I have something. By the last bit of flesh hanging from the last finger, I will grasp it with all my strength.
It's not something that hits you in times of desperation. You always have it. Everyone does, but only when your mind wanders into the abyss, those dark parts that people don't mention. At the very back, no lights on, just the scent of self-loathing and a feeling new to you. When I found it, I was never going back.
I spend most of my time in doors. One window needs to be open in every room, as air is thin in such a high flat. If I ever find a problem, I lock it in a box with tape, label it and hide it. It frees space in my head to think. Every so often my mind becomes enclosed, so I have to stay alone for a few days. I usually just stay in my bedroom without any food. Once my memory lapses of my fear, I can be free once more and deal my problems one by one.
Lost in sodden cardboard now, though.
The stench doesn't bother me now I'm used to it. I've kept one room just for the postmen so the smell isn't so bad. I get a lot of fresh air thanks to windows being almost constantly open.
Sometimes it drifts away. Of course I find it, but I almost come to realisation. I'm too weak to deal with reality. I wanted to make a new box for it, but it's a fear that I should embrace; it's something I need to keep in my mind. My paranoia will help, leaving clues every so often in my mind.
Just wait until it's my turn though. When I go after you.
It's not something that hits you in times of desperation. You always have it. Everyone does, but only when your mind wanders into the abyss, those dark parts that people don't mention. At the very back, no lights on, just the scent of self-loathing and a feeling new to you. When I found it, I was never going back.
I spend most of my time in doors. One window needs to be open in every room, as air is thin in such a high flat. If I ever find a problem, I lock it in a box with tape, label it and hide it. It frees space in my head to think. Every so often my mind becomes enclosed, so I have to stay alone for a few days. I usually just stay in my bedroom without any food. Once my memory lapses of my fear, I can be free once more and deal my problems one by one.
Lost in sodden cardboard now, though.
The stench doesn't bother me now I'm used to it. I've kept one room just for the postmen so the smell isn't so bad. I get a lot of fresh air thanks to windows being almost constantly open.
Sometimes it drifts away. Of course I find it, but I almost come to realisation. I'm too weak to deal with reality. I wanted to make a new box for it, but it's a fear that I should embrace; it's something I need to keep in my mind. My paranoia will help, leaving clues every so often in my mind.
Just wait until it's my turn though. When I go after you.
:'(
Danke and all that. Nice surprise for stories to win GADs now and then. I owe all my thanks to Silverfunk for inspiration. :D
Danke and all that. Nice surprise for stories to win GADs now and then. I owe all my thanks to Silverfunk for inspiration. :D
Another win for the Rickoss. Are you related to the GAD judge or something? Or perhaps pimping yourself ;-)
"There's something sinister about it" - to quote Mr Fergusion.
"There's something sinister about it" - to quote Mr Fergusion.
Why isn't it all blaring highlights and "OMFG GAD WINNUR M8Z!11"?
Well done on the GAD.
It's not like you don't have enough laready lol..
It's not like you don't have enough laready lol..
Indeed.
Love Rick long time.
Nice switches to and fro ... little snippets of detail in the writing making more explode in the imagination.
Love Rick long time.
Nice switches to and fro ... little snippets of detail in the writing making more explode in the imagination.
Nice perspective. Another interesting take on the subject...
"Lost in sodden cardboard now, though." - I liked that, very effective.
I enjoyed this a lot, very blunt but also switches between your character trying to see the good side of things, and then confronting the reality of his situation.
'Twas good, well done.
'Twas good, well done.
Powerful stuff
Well written, the 'tramps point of view' was nicely imagined :p
I thought some of it was very evoking
Overall it was gripping and a good read
Well written, the 'tramps point of view' was nicely imagined :p
I thought some of it was very evoking
Overall it was gripping and a good read
Paranoia. I was never a problem, as such, more an answer. When you have nothing, when you are alone, to have something, anything, is a comfort. Solace in hurting my mind, stabbing bit by bit until all my reasoning is nothing more than a memory. I suppose it's better than being dull. Watching people wander back and forth through a life that holds no purpose and no end. I have something. By the last bit of flesh hanging from the last finger, I will grasp it with all my strength.
It's not something that hits you in times of desperation. You always have it. Everyone does, but only when your mind wanders into the abyss, those dark parts that people don't mention. At the very back, no lights on, just the scent of self-loathing and a feeling new to you. When I found it, I was never going back.
I spend most of my time in doors. One window needs to be open in every room, as air is thin in such a high flat. If I ever find a problem, I lock it in a box with tape, label it and hide it. It frees space in my head to think. Every so often my mind becomes enclosed, so I have to stay alone for a few days. I usually just stay in my bedroom without any food. Once my memory lapses of my fear, I can be free once more and deal my problems one by one.
Lost in sodden cardboard now, though.
The stench doesn't bother me now I'm used to it. I've kept one room just for the postmen so the smell isn't so bad. I get a lot of fresh air thanks to windows being almost constantly open.
Sometimes it drifts away. Of course I find it, but I almost come to realisation. I'm too weak to deal with reality. I wanted to make a new box for it, but it's a fear that I should embrace; it's something I need to keep in my mind. My paranoia will help, leaving clues every so often in my mind.
Just wait until it's my turn though. When I go after you.
It's not something that hits you in times of desperation. You always have it. Everyone does, but only when your mind wanders into the abyss, those dark parts that people don't mention. At the very back, no lights on, just the scent of self-loathing and a feeling new to you. When I found it, I was never going back.
I spend most of my time in doors. One window needs to be open in every room, as air is thin in such a high flat. If I ever find a problem, I lock it in a box with tape, label it and hide it. It frees space in my head to think. Every so often my mind becomes enclosed, so I have to stay alone for a few days. I usually just stay in my bedroom without any food. Once my memory lapses of my fear, I can be free once more and deal my problems one by one.
Lost in sodden cardboard now, though.
The stench doesn't bother me now I'm used to it. I've kept one room just for the postmen so the smell isn't so bad. I get a lot of fresh air thanks to windows being almost constantly open.
Sometimes it drifts away. Of course I find it, but I almost come to realisation. I'm too weak to deal with reality. I wanted to make a new box for it, but it's a fear that I should embrace; it's something I need to keep in my mind. My paranoia will help, leaving clues every so often in my mind.
Just wait until it's my turn though. When I go after you.