Below The Waterline
I sink to the depths of my own demise
I seek to destroy that which i want most
I long to be part of what i never had
I scream and fall below the surface
If i was me, i would never grow so angry, if i was me, i would never feed the hate. If i were you, i would stand and watch, if i were you, i would never have let me go. My tears stain my hands and blind my vision, pull the trigger, the soul is left behind and the shell cracks open.
The deeper i go, the further i climb, from my own despair, a never ending pit of agony and pain. Everyone hurts, everyone sees, everyone feels, but everyone is not me.
Keep me swimming.....
I scream and fall below the surface.....
If i was me, i wouldnt to what im from, If i was me, i wouldnt write black with white. If i were that, i wouldnt be it, If i were her, i wouldnt be him. My mind stretches to fill the deepest gaps of my life, the answer eluding within a maze of events, happenings, it hurts.
The cloud of hate surrounds me now, choking me, the air dra
Note Of A Madman - Final
My Dearest Jennifer
I write to you today almost a free man, soon the doors will open, and i shall once again embrace the clanking of chains and the scrape of rusty doors in the real world.
My last note to you almost feels uplifting in some way, perhaps it is the thought of sand, or swimming in the sea, or a screaming childs face.
The ball and chain becomes lighter with each passing moment, i may wonder, will humanity be the sculptor of it's own demise? or will we chain ourselves up as we do so many others who simply want to make the most of what they have.
It is quiet here, i can almost hear them shuffle in their sleep, it makes the suspense greater and greater. I hope our eventual meeting will be as enlightening as this one way message history we have acquired thus far.
I will see you soon, very soon
Note Of A Madman - Third
As the soil beneath me becomes more and more stained, i can feel my senses warping to decieve me. This place is like a taint, it scolds my mind every second of the long day, working in this unimaginable nightmare is but the least of my fears.
I am surrounded by the waste of society, thugs, brutes, rapists, murderers, and myself, the list goes onwards. These people all spit upon those who would be better off, the social structure sickens me. I find myself struggling to grip onto the last part of sanity i know, writing to you has helped me, although you most likely burn these letters without reading them.
It's not long until im released from this place, and i wonder if i will be walking towards something more deadly than the bars and icy glares of this fine establishment.
Hopefully we shall meet one day, under one circumstance or another...
Note Of A Madman - Second
My Dearest Jennifer
As i stare out of my small cell window i see only flickers of light, barely clinging to the air which surrounds them, this is rather like myself in a way. Your life has been devoted to your own cause, it shimmers through the unknown part of your life, this is the piece that we try to find, the missing part to what we are, what we were, or what we may indeed become.
Have you ever watched the ground shake before your eyes? , it almost seems afraid, my every step sends a shockwave through it, almost as if i am a poison, spreading through it's veins. Perhaps you are the antidote? who knows such things, but i wish i were as observant as yourself, i am closed within myself, blind to everything but what i need the most.
My life is a brick wall, the bricks become brittle, they weaken beneath my breath as i push against it, desperately trying to send it crashing to the ground. Behind these bars i slowly decay, like time itself.
I shall write again soon, my best wishes
Note Of A Madman
I cannot help but notice the conviction that your life hunts me with, although i do my best to avoid that which wishes me dead so much it is but a plague that washes over me every time i gaze into a mirror. Is it really that bad that one man can love you so, and be hurt to the extent that his mind is driven from the very halls it is encased within? Only that which has escaped me holds the answer, and unfortunately it does not look like i will ever find peace once more. Day after day i slip amongst those who carry out their daily routine, but a zombie to the world around them, as if they have some kind of purpose, belonging, the need to survive blinds them, like a haze of lies. Perhaps it is simply the way of things, but i like to think that a person can have a choice, to break free or follow as the sheep we so finely strive to be like.
As much as i wish to break free of my invisible bars, they grow more and more solid every day, and i do not think i had the strength to br