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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1701246-My-Insanity
by Bri
Rated: E · Monologue · Other · #1701246
A short story about somebody who is trying to find themselves in their personal wasteland.
Heat. Pain. Thirst. Memories?

For a second there, I thought I remembered; then again I have been in this god-forsaken place for days, months or maybe even years. I don’t know; nobody does. But that doesn’t matter now, because you’re here with me.

Here with me where, you ask? In a place of your own making. Of my own making.  A place of insanity.

Minutes trickle into hours, hours trickle into days and days blur together until there is no passage of time, only the second you live in, the second you can remember until even that second is taken away from you and replaced with the next.

Come walk with me toward my unknown destination, maybe towards your unknown destination as well. It could be that it was fate that threw us together, giving us time to fix each other’s illness and carry on with life, but I find that unlikely. It’s probably just two kindred spirits seeking another’s company in this wasteland.

What do you see? I see a desert. Every so often I think I remember passing an oasis, but then again nothing is sure. Like now, I see a herd of camels walking stately towards a water hole, but when I blink, or lose concentration it is just a plain, old desert scene devoid of life.

Talk to me; tell me of your fears, your hopes, your dreams and demons. I will do my best to allay the bad and fulfil the good, as you must try to do the same for me. That is how it works here. Once together, always together. Until death or sanity, you are mine and I am yours.



I know you.

Or at least I think I knew you. How have you been? For I remember little, if nothing at all. The fact that you made a lasting impression says much about you, probably more than you could tell me in any case. But hold, and let me think awhile…

I have it. The reason I remember you from so long ago, or was it today? Or tomorrow? It cannot have been yesterday, for that day does not exist. But wait, I have diverged from my train of thought once again. The reason I remember you is because You are Me.

That’s right, you heard me correctly. I am you, you are me, and together we make a whole. Two broken halves come together to make one.

The perplexity of our meeting caused me to think long and hard. As long and hard as is possible in the short time that is allowed to us. It occurred to me that as my current situation is of my own making, how then did you end up walking the same path, thinking the same thoughts as me?

The answer is obvious.

In the wasteland of our mind, we had become separated. Disjointed. Our identity was scattered in the wind, doomed to be forever seeking itself. But now that you have found me, and I have found you, myself can be repaired. We now have the hope of redemption and normal life. Whatever that is.



I now know what I have to do.

It is a hard road to travel, but a road that has been traversed by many before me. Many in truth, but even more through lies. It is my hope that my journey shall be accompanied by the former. This journey is the reason we are here. The purpose of life. I know it is what I must do, but my courage fails me and my strength fades with each passing step.

I feel like there is no reason to go on, though there is one standing plainly in front of me.

I feel like there is no purpose for me to live, though my purpose is waiting for me in the end. I only have to reach it.

The easy life calls out to me - so tantalising and promising, yet so empty and destructive. It comforts the lazy, justifies the immoral, and gives refuge to the empty minded. For this is the path that leads to ruination; both of life, and of the soul.

The reason, I have found, that my life was so torturous to live before was that I was denying myself. Pretending that I was something else, not listening to my needs or wishes.

Life was a lie.

The act of accepting all of myself has made me whole, but it has not healed the void in my life that can only be filled by one thing.

And that Thing is only reached through the Hard Road, so here we are. Back to the beginnings of my musing. To Live or to Die. To accept my burden, or to place it on someone else.

To accept that I cannot do it alone.
© Copyright 2010 Bri (kiaria at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1701246-My-Insanity