The Mental Patient

Chapter 16 - Court - Part 1

A few people protrude their hate from the pews; I can feel the heat from everyone banned whispered message of badass bane. The floor shone to blind the truth in here. With every step, I'm made to walk, a wrawl battle cries with my whistling. This world in now my playground and today is the day to push and swing so I can climb some bars; all my tools are in precise position for possible predicted mind population poisoning. I can still hear the camera-dude setting-up for a scoop of a career; today I shall help him level up. 

I doodle swear words and naked women on the pad of paper the court has ever so nicely provided, this will be the only time this afternoon I will air my thoughts in a constructive manner. The smell of linseed oil plants itself at the back of my throat. I think about the amount of shit, which has allowed child killers to be set free to kill again or how many ruthless business men escaped paying anything to their battered wives after a lengthy divorce. Sane people call this justice, what morons. I want to just stand up and declare I did it all, admit my guilt and bring on prison. I need to set a standard and not cross my morals, back over my plan of infamous goals. Bite your tongue until it falls off. Once I am gone, I want my fame to cram this world. Show them what you can do with ink-filled mechanism of the masochism.

I am flirting with fire; from normality, I had cold feet. I am a kerfuffle of trouble, there's no saving me now as I have mushroom-clouds for thought bubbles. They lacerate my world believing they killed me, I'm letting slip my dogs of war until they know me as a reformed super villain. Challenge Completed, Planet Earth; I'm spinning out-of-control, no fault of my own, I couldn't keep hold. I'm a libertine shoulder barging my way through the captive creators; I'm writing on black paper in the dark.

No brain freeze or frisson, picking up lightening-bolts and throwing them at the pages of rapture I snap at. This is mere reverie I reveal and unravel, I time-travel back and thwart all my enemies plans for me. I am no poltroon; I pollute pages personally I made it personal because I am no longer a person. The rain trickles down and washes away all my plights from my face, I change my mind and change my face and I am giving the world hell again, true evil is holding a pen. My calm levels are unstable, upon this psychopathic page I have too much sycophantic horsepower, I bucking-bronco my way out from this web of life.

In school, after Maths was English class where I jotted down my aftermath from the bully's pulley, I guess I'm pure vile and puerile, I'm not a transformer I can transmogrify. Rambunctious to my soul's battery core; setting my switch to self-destruction. A man can only receive so much failure in his life before superiority takes over his eyes focus. Insanity is a gift from the Gods; I wield and shield it against sanity.

This world sees what they want to see; I could have charming characteristics, suave and soigné, hats off to me, my undercurrent is currently a catastrophe. All passengers, we have a slight insurgence for turbulence and wizen, please, fasten your seatbelts and come join me within my plummet. Its drizzling green and yellow pills, I'm dancing in the pain, I jump in blood puddles and reappear in sky tunnels of bliss. This hurt in my head, I play it over and over again, until a joker smirk arises on my face, I'm no longer insane, isn't life splendiferous.

Within my writing, I cannot be a stentorian, so I must visual lies my memory videotaped life, transplant and transport all my supercilious kisses of life, these pages are where my wishes go to find a place to die. This world should have boxed me in early, now I can create topsy-turvy from everything that profoundly promotes to hurt me. Here comes the valetudinarian again, turn away, don't dare turn that page, it's all the same. I could be a beacon of silver-lining light, but the doctors beat my head in with a rock to keep me under it for eternity. I am a writer, this is what I do, keep bringing you words and I shall sit here and laugh at you.