Vacuum Services for the Mind

Why do you dark thoughts come at me and drill tiny bits of loathing into my skull? There was a fine, nice peaceful moment for like a second and then you traipse in all hully gully and without wiping your feet (what state manners has become) dirty and soil my mind. It does ruin the image I have that I’m somewhat good and angelic in a twisted way, fallen like Lucifer morning into the dawn of the dead. I immerse myself in media and hobbies of many stripes to lessen your impact, to drive away the unwanted thoughts syndrome. Curse this foul biochemical disorder and all its infernal machinations and trivial pursuits. Just bold shadow people come to take me over, blackness setting on my thighs, inching upwards, creepy fingers spider-walking up my gasping and convulsing body. Life you try to drain out of me, taking mental health and leaving me in a consumptive state. Inertia creeps.

And the bad thoughts. Sadistic, masochistic, perverted, deleterious horrors projecting in my inner theatre. Why must there be little girls in there? I do not want them, not them! You repeat the shame, the harm, the unforgivable actions over and over until I am spent, wrecked beyond all recognition. The body yields. I yield. I tire of fighting so many things and I cover myself in laziness. Hate purge afterwards; addicted to shame, welcome to the spiral. CTD, circling the drain, round river bends and arterial patterns aching for the blade. Other things come in too. Torture, the old friend from youth. See myself needing punishment, need to release the foul blood; detox sly fox. I’m not right in the head. See see I know, a thousand times I know. What do I do to rid the brain of cobwebs and filth? Are there vacuum services for the mind?

Oh, I am a slop in the soil. Debased, defaced, disgraced. Encumbered with a sick boy bomb lurking in the shadows. I am weak, scrawny fop inside, a real lascivious dandy. Decardia my security blanket. So warm.


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