I feel like a puppet fighting with my strings that are pulling me towards… Towards crime? Harm? Aggression?? I’m unsure. Controlling me like a dark version of Kira from The Dark Crystal.
But I love The Dark Crystal.
My eyes are like a bull’s with a nose full of chilli powder as he gets annoyed by the movements of the matador’s cape.
But I won’t let that sucker spear me into weak submission.
My mind is about to explode Scanners style and splatter everyone with furious neurological matter. Crimson life source creating pretentious artwork against the walls.
But pretentious art isn’t my thing.
My strings are made from blood vessels pulled from slit feet and wrists Freddy Kruger style. A vicious force urging me towards a 6th floor window. Jump out and slam against the concrete, rupturing as many vital parts as possible.
But I won’t allow it. Any of it.
Life throws up randomly awful moments and experiences that scramble my already scrambled mind. So it feels anyway but actually isn’t. I react to stresses on a destructive scale like a simmering volcano oozing lava but never quite erupting and as said above, feel an unseen force urging me towards behaviour against my will.
But now I’m calm and I’ve severed those strings.
© Copyright: Sharon Lawson™