Last edited by Cameron on Mon May 07, 2007 6:01 pm, edited 3 times in total.
The individual leads in actual fact a double life, one in which he is an end to himself and another in which he is a link in a chain which he serves against his will or at least independently of his will.
--SIGMUND FREUD
I don't think there's enough here to give a really solid review, but what you've got here did leave me wanting to read more of your story, and I suppose that's what you wanted to accomplish, am I right? Sorry I can't be of much help right now. Post more and I'll read it and I think I'll be able to write a more in-depth review.
If there's ever a meat shortage, eat this profile; it's full of balogna.
Well Cameron,
That was some intro. I want to know more. So technically you did a hell of a job catching my attention. I really enjoyed your rambling. I really set in the emotion of what your story could be. I hope to see the rest.
My hands shake as I type, and I know that it won’t be long before I’ll have to stop for awhile. Eloquence and maybe even coherent writing is seemingly impossible these days--there is simply not enough time to read and re-read between the attacks. Maybe when I have a little more control, I’ll come back and organize what I’ve written.
But now I have to get down as much as I can when I can. I write in the hope that—well, I really don’t know why. I have tried so many approaches, but nothing seems to work. My mind is a blur of thoughts. I guess I’ve always been an emotional person-- maybe that’s where it stems from. It’s so formidable, and yet indefinable. Am I crazy? I don’t think crazy people question their sanity. Should I be comforted by that?
There is so much...agony. I feel like I’ve been violated at the most intimate level of myself: my mind. I am captive to my own thoughts. Forgive my rambling, I don’t know why, but I feel compelled to apologize for my ranting. If someone were to stumble across this I feel I should at least offer an explanation; I can’t completely forgo my reputation. At the least, I should maintain an air of control; of sanity. It’s terrifying how it seems to extend beyond me. I think I am crazy.
It comes on quickly—once it starts; like being underwater. Strange as it sounds, it’s like forgetting how to breathe. Like a flutter in the chest; a lightness…a hypertension. I am a spectator to this contest of wills. It is always there—always. Maybe if I could define it, apply reason to it and see it outlined in reality—perhaps then I could overcome it. Sadly, this is not the case. I need to move—to speak—else I’ll drown in it. Resisting is all but impossible. You can only drown—and allow the anguish to overcome you, drown in a sense; and in your death it too dies. I am like the Christ. I die to save a greater part of myself—is that logical? This is not logic though. I must fight illogic adversaries with illogic rationale.
The only light emanates from my two eyes. Everything is dark. Everything is pain. There is no hope. There is no relief. There is only panic. Only fear. When my eyes close I will lose sight of the light. ‘It’s all lies!’ my mind is screaming at itself, even as it makes greater efforts to further the falsities: no end to something that had no beginning; no foreseeable conclusion for something that never really existed.
It will end. It cannot go on forever—baseless as it is. I need to clear my mind. It will clear. And when it does, I will see when it started, and I will understand the reason, one way or another. Maybe tomorrow. I’ll have to see.
The individual leads in actual fact a double life, one in which he is an end to himself and another in which he is a link in a chain which he serves against his will or at least independently of his will.
--SIGMUND FREUD
You did an amazing job when it character voice. I think this make for an amazing prologue, and can't wait for the rest of the story! I agree, though. You'll have have to make an equally amazing story to match it. That, or risk disappointed readers!
I’m sorry but I have no idea what this is about, I got the idea this person has a problem and then I just didn’t get it. I apologize for not giving a more positive comment but I hope, with the next installment, I can do a better job.
I wonder if people felt the freedom in our culture to love louder, if they'd be quicker to say "I miss you" when the absence of someone is felt instead of just thinking it. — soundofmind
