When There Is No More Room… Part 3…

“Doctor, I need you go speak with Stephanie. She still hasn’t got out of bed. It has been almost three days,” the nurse tells him. I don’t look up from my desk.  My pen digs deeper into the chart I’m working on. The nurse holds on to my office door to afraid to fully enter, “Doctor, did you hear me?” Pushing the pen the tip deeper into the chart. “Is there anything else?” I asks looking up to her with a fake smile. “No, I guess not,” she answers before closing the door and disappearing. The pen tip snaps spilling ink all over the chart, “What could the little psychopath possibly be up to now?”

I enter Stephanie’s room and the first thing to hit me is the smell. The smell of three day old shit and piss. Jesus Christ does no one do their job around here? Doesn’t matter I think as I rub my forehead in frustration. Lighting up a cigarette to try and mask the smell I fight the need to vomit. “Stephanie may I have a moment of your time?” I ask in the fakest version of myself I can. She only sits there on her bed with her knees to her chest staring at me. “The silent treatment for me as well. That’s fine I suppose. It won’t help you I’m afraid,” I take another step into the room. Her eyes burn with a furry. All of their eyes have this look. A look none of my medical books have ever been able to explain. The two orderlies I brought with me wait a few steps behind me. I can hear them as they try not to breathe. Unfortunately that isn’t much of an option at the moment.  

“Heard it has been over three days since you’ve attempted to get up. Moving around is good for your mind you know? A little outdoor time. Maybe some sun would make you feel better?” Still nothing only her burning eyes. “I also heard you are refusing to eat for the nurses but I see you have some of the plates there in your bed. That is good. That is positive. What isn’t so positive and judging by the smell in this room I have to believe is true? Is that you have been pissing and defecating the bed again. We’ve talked about this Stephanie. We can’t have you doing this. It isn’t healthy or sanitary. To be quite frank it isn’t really fair to the staff. That is beyond the point though. Stephanie you need to get out of bed.” My anger begins to rise as I stomp out my cigarette and light another one. Her eyes burning. Their eyes so dark. Sometimes I just want to grab them by the throat and watch the flames slowly smolder out. No, push it down. You are here to help them.

“Stephanie you need to get out of bed now,” I inform her unsympathetically. “Bring her back,” she screams at me. My ears ringing I fight the urge to scream along with her, “She doesn’t exist. We have been over this.” The fire rages in her eyes, “Bring her back.” Bits of dried shit fall off her arms as she screams. “She doesn’t exist therefore we can’t bring her back. We have been over this. You need to understand this Stephanie,” I shout threw her screams. “She does exist and you took her away from me,” her whole body shakes with every word. The orderlies rush to my side but I signal them to stay back. I can feel my own frustration and my own anger fighting to release itself. “Enough of this screaming Stephanie,” I say with a stern voice. “There is no reason to scream at me. I promise you we never took her away because she is not real.” She shakes her head no causing more dried shit to fall off her body. “You are a liar. You took her just to make me unhappy. Just to make me suffer. You are just like them. Just like everyone else,” she throws herself into her pillows.

I take a step closer, “Now why on earth would I do something like that? I’m here to help you get better. You are here to get better. So let me help you. Let us help you get there. Let’s get out of the bed and get you cleaned up.” Her face still buried in her shit covered pillow, “Not until you bring her back to me.” Standing just out of arms reach of her the smell is becoming too much to bare. “Stephanie this is no way to live. We need to get you out of this bed,” I say as calmly as one can in this situation. Staring at her I wonder where everything went wrong. How could such a beautiful girl turn into such a mess? If this were another life or if things had worked out differently I would have been staring at her up on a screen. Not in a room with her shit smeared on the walls. This world can be too much to take at times. Before I even have time to react. Stephanie springs from her bed and tackles me to the floor. With her hands around my throat she begins to scream, “Bring her back.”

Despite her small frame she has a strength I don’t understand. The two orderlies fight to get her off of me, but with every ounce of effort her hands grip tighter to my throat. Her screaming fills the tiny room with so much noise. My ears ring as I try to fight her. I try to find a place on her body that isn’t covered in shit as my hands slide off her skin. I just want to help them. I can’t understand what is happening. That’s all I ever wanted to do. But right now I just want to kill her. Gouge out her little eyes and watch her scream in pain. So disoriented as all my sense become over stimulated confusion sets in.  A nurse runs into the room and injects her with a syringe of diazepam. She fights the effects as I fight for air. Fight the urge to not kill the life from her. I feel the strength leave her hands and her weight off my chest. Inhaling deeply the smell of the room takes over as I vomit on to the floor. Staring into my own pool of vomit. I am left wondering why is it that any of this needs to exist.

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Look for part 4 next week… (3/20)… Hopefully you are all enjoying this… if not well it will only torture you for once a week from now on… : )

Hope all is well…

When There Is No More Room… Part 2… I Said…

I Said

“I’m not feeling particularly violent today. I mean no one was asking me to be. I just don’t feel it. Some days I can really feel it,” she says with a smile. The smile washes away from her face, “But not today. No, today I feel rather joyous and a bit vain. Callus is the word? No that is something that happens to the skin. What is the word that I am trying to say?” A silence fills the room as she stares at the wall. “Hey, do you want to know something else about skin? Do you know what happens when direct heat is applied? You know like fire.” Again she stares as she waits for an answer as she waves butane torch in her hand wildly. “Stumped you huh? Well silly it doesn’t just turn black. You know like with raw meat. No the skin bubbles first. Bubbles and bubbles until the water trapped inside causes the epidermis to explode.” She begins to laugh hysterically at the screams of her victim.

“Do you still think?” She screams into the victims face. “Do you think?” She asked calmly as she grabs the victim’s hair. She takes the long flowing hair and wraps it around her knuckles. She pulls the hair tight and raises it above the girl’s head. “Do you think that the same thing will happen with hair? Should we test my theory? Because I think. Well honestly I have no idea what will happen. Do you?” She asks curiously. “Better yet,” she pulls the handful of hair to the point of breaking, “Do you think that if I make you as ugly as me. You’d want me then?” She presses her scared face into the other girl’s face. Butane torch burning in the other hand. A look comes across her face as she stares into the other girl’s eyes, “Yeah bitch I didn’t get these scars sucking dick. I earned them. So let’s ask ourselves this simple question. Do you think you could ever walk in my shoes for a day? One day. That’s all.” She looks down at the victims shoes, “Because let’s face it those pumps look amazing. What size are they anyway?”

She turns the fuel knob on the butane torch to off and places it down on the carpeted floor. The girl only whimpers as tears flow down her face. “Tell me are they Capezio? Is that still even a thing? Fashion really isn’t my thing. I’m more or less into other things. Don’t get me wrong though. I like to learn.” She walks over to the dresser and picks something up. Slowly pacing back over to the girl holding something behind her back, “Do you mind if I take a look at them? You know up close? I promise I won’t hurt them.” In one rapid motion she lunges at the girl’s right foot with a hatchet in hand. Swinging the hatchet at the girls shin. Slightly above the ankle. Over and over again with everything she has the hatchet connects to flesh and bone. The room fills with the sound of screaming, laughter, and hacked away flesh. Her face sprayed with blood at every hack. Wave after wave of blood. The victim flails her leg in pain the best she can against the restraints. The victim’s whole body begins to convulse until it doesn’t.

She sits crossed legged on the floor staring at what is left of the girl’s foot. “Really don’t think these are so great after all. You know with all the blood on them and everything. Hey, are you still with me princess?” She asks her. She taps the girls left leg with the side of the hatchet. “I’m talking to you.” She slams the hatchet blade side down into the victim’s right thigh. The hatchet stands in place as she slaps the girl over and over, ‘I said that I’m talking to you.” She screams words of nothing with everything she has into the girl’s face. “That bitch is dead.” Sad she tosses the hacked off foot behind her. It lands on the bed with a soft thud as it bounces into the pillows. “We were just starting to have fun.” She says with a pouted face. “I knew I shouldn’t have done that. Stupid, stupid,” she hits herself on the side of the head over and over. Rubbing her knuckles against the scars.  The smell of smoke slowly fills the room. She looks around confused until she sees the knocked over torch. Watching the trail of fire as it spreads to the bed. “Well fuck, Father isn’t going to like this.” Random limbs hang from the ceiling as the fire takes everything.

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I’m so excited for this project… I’ll probably fuck it up in some way… but I’m excited none the less… That’s all for now…

When There Is No More Room… Part 1

The halls are filling with patients I can hear their feet stomping. One by one they shuffle their way down the halls. The ones that can that is. None of them mine of course. No of course not they belong to my subordinates. All those long nights. All the studying. All the work to be at the top of my class. What a waste of time. No, I get the special ones. The ones chained down, the ones that most of us can only see through glass and steel. But why am I telling you this? Talking to myself. I might as well be locked away with them. I need. I need to get this all out. Before I end up on the other side of the glass. We all have our reasons for being here. Locked in this place.

I am here to make sure they get “better.” Help them, cure them, but there is no cure for crazy or deranged or homicidal.  So all of my education, all of my time is nothing but a waste. I get to pretend to be the very thing I call myself. The title I have earned, Doctor. Head Doctor of Psychiatry at a state run asylum to be exact. I get to pretend that I can make them all better. Trapped in purgatory with the monster who will never see the light of day again. God damn it. I just want to leave this place. Trapped in my head. Trapped in place. Day in and day out. When I close my eyes. All I see are their faces smiling back at me. They should be put down. Put down like the animals that they are. One way trip to the pits of hell. But that’s not humane is it? That’s not right. Not in this day and age of medicine. We can help them.

What a joke. A broken idea stabbed into our brains. Not all of us were born equal. Not all of us deserve to live. All those long hours, all these long days, this endless life time, and that is all that I can come up with. Kill them all. Let the devil have his play things back. Not good enough. Not the solution we are looking for. “Do we need to replace you with someone better?” Better than me? Someone better than me can administer the same test with the same results. Would it make the difference to help these monsters? Question my very existence in this world. Driven crazy by the very people who I have entrusted me to heal. Nothing. Surrounded by the madness and the endless cycle of nothing. The nothing is pointless and unavoidable. The fact that nothing I will ever do will mean anything. That’s the part I can no longer take. Life here is an unknown mystery with the same outcome.

Welcome to the Alabaster Behavioral Asylum for the Criminally Insane. Yes, when there is no more room. Welcome to hell.

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So this was that project I was talking about… either last week or the week before… I don’t know… the days bled together after awhile… Hopefully I can keep up with it… this week I will be posting three parts to it… after that I will be posting a new part every Wednesday… and filling in the days with Broken Thoughts… poems… the usual stuff… trying to change things up… taking a chance on this story… maybe I will talk about it more later… okay I will be talking about it more later…

I’ll Tell You What To Do… And You Will Get It Done…

Killing, Dragging, Taking

Slowly dying, the grave inside your heart
You say you don’t want to hurt
But it does
Slowly dying, the voice inside my head
It says it doesn’t want to hurt
But it does
Slowly dying, to the words inside our hearts
Meant something once 
But it turns out they never did
Slowly dying and it is all that I have left
Slowly dying and it is all that we have left
Slowly dying and I don’t know 
Slowly dying and we can’t stop
Slowly dying to feel something that isn’t there

The voice inside my head
Would leave me for dead
The voice inside my head
Screaming the words
Shaking the cages of my home
The voice inside my head
Would leave me for dead
The voice inside my head
Never cared about me
Never cared about anything
The voice inside my head
Has been all I’ve known

Slowly I’m getting there
Slowly I have become more
Slowly I will be something
Slowly I’ve adopted the reasons
Slowly I’m succumbing to
The voice inside my head
Killing me all over again
Dragging me further down
Taking all that it wants

 

Dead, Alive

Compassion for a pointless point
Suicide is a four letter word
Tucked away deep in the mind
Give up, giving in
Still trying to decide the difference
Been dead, dying inside
What’s one more day without an option?

Passion for a pointless reason
Living is a five letter word
Tucked away deep in the mind
Gave up, giving in
Still trying to decide the difference
Alive, dying inside
What’s one more day with an option? 

 

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Really thought the phone thing might work… okay… I didn’t really… but I thought at least I would write something… and I didn’t… haven’t written anything new in the last month… until today… Killing, Dragging, Taking… It isn’t all that great… I would barely call it good enough… but I had to get it out… Had to say something… force myself back into the habit of writing… 

That’s the worst part of stepping away… away from anything really… is getting back into it… no matter how bad you want it… don’t mean shit… until you do it… and yes I feel like shit… feel as though I have been drained… and I fucking love it… so fuck it let’s get this shit started up all over again… : )… Lets burn this mother fucker down… keep swinging my friends… because no one’s Killing, Dragging, or Taking us… anytime soon… 

 

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Broken Thoughts… Postcard From My Heart…

There is a hole in my soul
I lie and say it doesn’t hurt
Broken and I think everybody knows
A child with so many things to say
An adult with nothing left
All that matters doesn’t seem to anymore
The feelings once there have come and gone
A pretense so intense that it hurts
Walking away seems to be all that I have left
Though I know I still have things left to say

 

A Darkness Love Could Never Hide

Literally burning time
Watching it burn slowly
In my hand
Your life
Smell so innocent
Taste of dirt and ash
Holding a place in my heart
A grave with no name
The bones never seem to
Break away when you want
Them to
The souls always with me
Speaking in tongues made of sin
Give me more, feed me, feed this eternal lust
The hate was never the point
It is the feeling of your lungs running out of air
Succumbing to a need
Deep inside me grows a danger
Lack of control has led me to this
Watching your body burn with the rest of them
In the shallow grave, the altar I’ve built for you

 

Spitting blood
Did you care before you thought
I was going to die?
My mouth is dirty
Vulgar as fuck
Postcard from my heart

 

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Not a whole lot to say… which is odd to even me… even crazier is that I’m in a great mood… maybe that’s scary?… haha… believe me when I say I am fine… a little dark… but that is just me… smiling all the way to asylum… enjoy your day… I’m going outside to enjoy the sunshine… just kidding… I’m not that crazy… : )

 

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Broken Thoughts… Fuck It… Its Your Problem… Okay Maybe Not…

Staring into the mirror
Wondering why not
The blade pressed up against me
Not sure why lately I’m not
Anti-lobotomy
Driven crazy, fucked at the thought
Common sense doesn’t mean shit
Drowning in my own life
Suffocating at the thought
That all of this must keep going on

 

Who put me in charge of anything
God doesn’t have a sense of humor
Fuck off
Gave me my own thing to destroy
Said look
I fucked up but here is your chance
To do the same thing
A running joke, that makes no sense
Drinking to try and forget
What I was even trying to do
Slash the wrists long enough
Something is bound to happen
Parenting not that far off
Smashing my head against a wall
Just makes sense
At this point

Purpose in life to die
Sad fucking state of existence
Fighting it every day
Winning
Where is the balance
When is just keeps fucking coming
Where is the savior we’ve been waiting on

Lost and it is just a thought
A rotting of the fucking brain
All there is
All there ever was
Was you and me
Let me be the first to say
I’m sorry

 

Dodging all the god damn knives
Finding my place in all this shit
Tortured what was your first fucking clue
Do this to myself
Smiling at the thought
What was the point all along
Breathing to breathe
Living because I was told to
Always loved you
But what was the fucking point
God or the devil does it matter?
When nothing has ever mattered
Me and you become one
Fucked yet we keep going on

 

It’s all so pointless…

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No after thought… only this…

Torture me, torture myself
Fuck you
Gave in when I knew
It was all a lie
Made you up inside my head
As real as I want it to be
Choking on a thought
Chewing on glass
Who needs a reason
When there is a why

 

Drowning myself in shit
Smiling all the way down
: )

 

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Apparently inktober is happening… makes sense.. being that it is October… anyway… check out the awesome work… my friend Little Fears is doing… Hope you enjoy… I know I have been… Haunting my dreams… turning them to nightmares… 

Throw Away Post … Before I Forget…

This is or might get weird… I’m aware that I have missed a post… and I am late on this one… the thoughts are on the wall… just trying to figure out what to say… 

Have you ever played Binding of Issac?… Fuck that game… the definition of a time fucking suck… I do it to myself… it is so fun and engaging… I get lost in it… next thing I know… hours have passed… and I’m sitting here… doing nothing but screaming at my computer… free time gone… emotions on high… and I have to wonder… what the fuck is the point of life?… 

We live to feel in engaged… to have a purpose… if I find enjoyment in the suffering… then is it really a waste of time?… Video games fuck with your mind… you are doing something… you are completing goals… you are winning… you are the best or whatever… but it don’t mean dick… worlds have actually been conquered without them… people have actually done things with their lives… the world was created without video games… and yet here we are… all of the death… all the suffering of the world… here I am screaming at a computer… because it fucked me… fuck that game… 

Okay… I’m done relating my bullshit problems to real suffering…  call it first world guilt… first world problems… I don’t care… modernization creates more problems than it solves… the boy and the fucking dam situation… the more we try to help ourselves the more we expose the main issue in  life… What to fucking do?… Why are we here?… and Why the fuck should I even bother?…  Things were once harder… yet they were easier… Mate, Feed, Kill, Repeat… simple… basic… but we are so god damn special… we are more than the animals we claim to be…

 What becomes when the equation is solved by modern convenience… that’s what I have been stuck on all weekend… who the fuck am I?… In this great a big ball of shit… Special?… fuck off… you and me have always been equal… we say oh no… they are special… no… we say they are great… we say they are our heroes… no… no… we are the same… it has always come down to what we believe… It is all enough to make you go fucking crazy… it is enough that it take over your whole weekend… a life time wondering… why I even open my fucking eyes… 

To play fucking Binding of Issac… to fucking lose… we find pain in failure… embarrassment… truth is… failure is life… what a shitty fucking joke… doesn’t change the facts… fake it until you make… fail until you master it… a slap in the face… a wake up call to the dead… flying by the seat of your pants… is how they tell you not to live… yet how did they get there in the first place?… head against a wall… going crazy… playing Binding of Issac… until I have won?…. 

 

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