perverse

somewhere, there is a place, that is kept well-lit and immaculate, where they can just know exactly what i'm thinking and i don't have to explain anything--extract the impossible: i don't have to bother with trying to figure it out myself. i simply walk up, knock on the door, and they know. already, they know. and they are able to help. like a clinic for the soul. a clinic for the mind--but, unlike the psychiatric offices i've been to before, they know. they really know. and they are ready to help.
the problem, i think, is that i've become too self-aware. of myself, obviously, but, also, my own thinking. i start to question everything. and when this happens, i lose it. i try to turn it off, but to no avail. i am stuck in my own stinking thoughts, in my own stinking brain--that one part of me--of my body--which seems to have failed completely. in some realm, i'm sure, my brain is unsightly and, certainly, crippling. i am held back by own thinking--the essential self. it's not always obvious. my brain is my one, it seems, irreparable physical flaw.
i know i'm crazy. but does knowing still mean i'm crazy?
these are thoughts i can't restrict. the only consolation is to think in terms of gross generalizations and universals: the human mind and how it relates to me.
it's remarkable, really, how we are able to make sense, so automatically, so naturally (it would seem) of symbols--how easy it is to get caught up in that perpetual game of alphabet manipulation.

words: they mean nothing. they mean everything.

i need someone to reinstall, reconfigure my faulty wiring and update me with a more consumer-friendly program; new software, same features.

if i had it my way, i'd do nothing. all the time. i would do nothing at all. but lay in bed and sleep. if only i could sleep forever--to become intellectually comatose. then, i think, i might be o.k.. no bad thinking is better than any bad thinking. and all i do is bad thinking. all the time.

i would kill myself. honestly, i would. but i'm too afraid. not of dying, really. my religious conviction is too strong. i believe in god. i believe there is a devil. and i know that ending one's life prematurely can only result in eternal damnation. i don't want to spend forever engulfed in flames of hellfire. but, sometimes, it doesn't sound so bad, considering the alternative: a life filled with prescription sanity and perpetual loneliness.

something should change around here.