literature

Waiting On the World To Change

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Literature Text

April 16 March 26 June 3 December 24 the end of the world year 34234464

I lost track of which day it's been since I've been here. I don't even know if it's been long. Was I supposed to keep track? Come to think of it, is it some unbroken, unspoken protocol that journals must have dates written for each entry? Even if there was a tangible answer somewhere out here, I would never be able to find it, not in my current position.

Here I sit, chained to the walls and trapped within the chambers of the mind. Not any mind, but the mind. The one I suspect might be The guards call it Mind, actually, I'm not sure what it really means. If this really is the true face of the Mind I'd always known, than my Mind must have disguised itself well with only a few slips of the dungeons within its depths.

The walls are strange, as usual. The bars, walls, chains, and all are flashing, iridescent, multi-colored, yet anything but bright – everything had such a dark, dark shade to it. Almost sinister. I don't know. I will never know no matter how many times I unintentionally visit this particular jail.

Actually, I don't know if I'm just visiting this dungeon every once in a while, or the guardsmen are just toying with me as they let me wander about with my legs and arms tied to a long, long chain that snaps me right back as I get closer and closer to that light. I would not be surprised. Those guards look so dark, and they always seem to complete my action for me. Speaking. Laughing. Eating. Planning. Doing things in general. Their faces may be pretty, but a black aura emanates from them. Their deceit is foul, almost completely convincing, but if one tries hard enough, they can see the weakness of their facades. And their faces… oh, they're so alike. Eyes, nose, jaw, teeth, and all. Just the skin tone and the way they extort their faces into expressions, the way they carry themselves as they walk... they're all the same yet completely different, and all reside in one same area as well, this prison. As if they were brothers split apart by human manifestations and were really just man with many, many different personalities. Or is it just me, once again? I will never know, I say another time.

That light through the tiny, barred window is so holy, it's salvation in the embodiment of the few meager beams that shine into these horrid yet beautiful corridors, all I ever wanted to do was reach it. But I cannot. I've tried so hard and long, and now, that light looks fake as well. Eerie, luring, negative temptation, even becoming a bother to my dull life in these cells. All I can think of is that light, but then I look at it and ponder its true meaning. Is that another illusion, like the many things that used to give me joy in these traps that I am kept so painstakingly in? Again… I would not be surprised…

Did I tell you before of how a strange little white rabbit hops by every once in a while? It just did, again. It runs by at a decent speed, but it's there for sure, and the guards always stare at it as it runs, then look to me. It's strange, almost as if they're part of a system that forces them to do so or something bad happens to them. Sometimes the white rabbit stares at me, and every time it does or if I stare it for too long, I get so dizzy and things fall out of focus and I do things that sometimes I don't even know why I would do or whatever and whenever and however but those things happen and I don't like it. I don't like it.

I tell you, this place is insane. But it's nice enough and I just can't pull myself away from it, I've grown up seeing this "Mind" in the horizon, it's kind of comforting to be so close to it now that I'm inside it. Or maybe not "comforting," per se, but… something drags me here that, no matter how horrid it can be here, I come back for whatever reason I cannot comprehend. It is almost an intrinsic bond that put a twist into this very soul writing just to play with the unfortunate child who was born with that little link to this strange dungeon. The sad atmosphere and the angry flashes of the walls and the strange little white rabbits and deceitful guards and my loss of my own mind in thinking, they're all so horribly familiar in such a nice way.

Sometimes I hear sounds from the outside. Yells, crashes, shrieks. Even sometimes splashes and rips. I wonder if it's war out there.

I think it's time for me to sleep again. The guards are beginning to act me up again and I have to hide so they won't get too angry at me for not showing up when they try to act me. All the guards quarrel with one another and I'm happily yet bittersweetly lost in the fray.
Contains symbolism. Sorry if this sucked, I am not good with that at all, that's why I practiced with this. Any constructive criticism, highly welcome and encouraged.
© 2012 - 2024 skywishes19
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