Non stop ticking in my head. Watching my sanity fall farther from my sense of a "safe haven". Falling deeper into the hands of darkness. I do not scream, I do not dare to stutter. For the free falling is all that I have to console me. The freedom of looking up at my past and looking down to my own demise. My only hope is to fall into the hands of love and breath one single thought. "Alas my sanity is safe once again" The falling never ended as days passed. The sun did rise for 123 days and the moon did set for 122 days. When the moon set for that 123rd night my heart and my mind took a plunger to the soul like a dagger to the heart. I felt as if my heart had taken the brunt of the pain. My mind a fuse box with just one good fuse left.
In time my mind regained its logic and my heart regained its blood. Just as newcomers to the city my heart and mind came into the world without a cent in their pockets. They thought about the vastness of the place they where in. How cold it felt. How lonely it seemed. My heart looking for another to beat with and my mind looking for another to think with, all my senses were trying to make sense of it all. But failure after failure my heart and mind were left to just wander around this huge city looking for a reason to come out of their shells. Yes mates come and Oh!, with problems of their own. But they too did not feel fit to commit. And me, little old me sitting here in the front row. I watch and try to enjoy the spectacle. Promptly the tidings changed and I am able to lay the pen to paper and write the words that make these girl shriek with emotion. Now I must examine to myself whether to continue or to wait for my clouds to settle. To wait for a ray of sunlight so that I may seek out the heart and mind that are so dear and close to my own.
As I see that pair that matches my own my mind tells my heart to beat fast and jump into sync with hers. I do this to find fullness all humans strive for, happiness. Now in this pursuit of happiness I do not know whether to postpone my plans or wait for the odds to turn my way. Maybe I will play my cards right and win the pot, or leave without a cent in my pockets. With no way to return home. Alas I feel invisible to the other and I do not whether or not I have a chance. Maybe I have a chance or maybe I do not, but the thoughts of a madman are never sane. The thoughts of a madman are simple. They are radical, romantic, and forever flowing with passion.