Mind of a Monster- Oscar Morejon
Everyday, I constantly ask myself the same question. To the point where I recite it in my head over and over until my head begins to hurt. My mind is complex, but then again, everyone's is. Everyone's mind develops differently. My mind developed over an extremely long period of hate and pain. The pain of others mainly. I always came last because I put myself there. I couldn’t care less about myself. It's the people around me; the ones I care about that matter. But then, there are those who trample on me like a pile of sawdust. I am not a violent person. Fighting is pointless, it resolves nothing. However, my anger and hate get the best of me.
Have you ever wondered what goes on inside the mind of a monster? I'm not talking about some terrifying, ferocious beast. I'm talking about a mad man. A mad man who sprouts into a bud; waiting to flourish into something sinister. A monster. If you haven’t wondered, let me tell you that it is so fascinatingly interesting that it'll send a cold, riveting shiver down your spine. To you, you may find it troubling. Maybe a bit alarming, but I assure you, there is nothing to be afraid of. Except maybe yourself, but for all I know you may be more sane than most.
Constantly, I lived fighting my demons. The voices in my head. The ones that infiltrate and burrow into my skull crawling through to get a word. Clawing to gain control of who I am. Constantly, I've been forcing them back into a corner, locking them in a cage. But, as always, I let them out. Why? Why would I release the very things that are affecting me? Why do I continue to hold these thoughts in my head close instead of pushing them away far from my grasp? Because, I fear that it's who I am. I don't fear much, but I do fear myself. One voice tells me to breathe, to stay calm and rationalize. The others tell me to let go and to spill the endless pools of blood from those who drive my hate and anger. Who slam on the accelerator making my engine pump faster and faster. Until suddenly, I hit a tree or fall off a winding road. Their body is lifeless and I am torn apart. My anger and rage tore me apart, tearing those around me.
My mind is a maze. A giant library containing every memory that I cherish and every memory I've kept hidden. I wasn't born this way, I was molded this way. I grew into a thorn bush instead of a blueberry. The only thing keeping me sane are the people who have good in them. It's those people that make me hope there is still good in this torn world full of torn people. It's those people that keep the monster inside.
So, if I'm being truthful, I don't know who I am; then again, that might be a good thing. Whether we want to believe it or not, we all have minds of monsters. It's just a matter of time before someone goes insane. Our mind is a ticking time bomb, a hell waiting to be released into the world. Not many can handle the stress, the pressure of anxiety. My palms and face will begin to sweat. I begin to breathe heavily, but yet softly. My eyes begin to shift from position to position making my head hurt. Then, they begin to focus. If one were to look inside of them, they'd see the flame, the fire burning as bright as the sun. My hands will twitch and begin to fidget. My chest will start to tighten and my heart will feel like it will spew out of my chest with the arteries and veins still attached. We've all felt anger. We've all felt hate. It's no secret that we do. What is, is what we think in our heads when we feel this way. What we imagine.
I ask myself everyday: “Do I have the mind of a monster? Or am I just lost in this torn world full of torn people?”. I like to think I'm lost and that I'll soon find my way. But, those are just hopes and we all know that hopes are destroyed. I guess I'll just have to keep moving forward. Isn't that what we're supposed to do? To just move on towards a better future and to forget the past? I don't know how it's easy for some, but I know it's hard for me. But, I guess if it means escaping my demons, escaping my thoughts. Then I'll try to move forward. I'll try to be better. I don't know what kind of mind I have. I can only hope that I don't have the mind of a monster.
Have you ever wondered what goes on inside the mind of a monster? I'm not talking about some terrifying, ferocious beast. I'm talking about a mad man. A mad man who sprouts into a bud; waiting to flourish into something sinister. A monster. If you haven’t wondered, let me tell you that it is so fascinatingly interesting that it'll send a cold, riveting shiver down your spine. To you, you may find it troubling. Maybe a bit alarming, but I assure you, there is nothing to be afraid of. Except maybe yourself, but for all I know you may be more sane than most.
Constantly, I lived fighting my demons. The voices in my head. The ones that infiltrate and burrow into my skull crawling through to get a word. Clawing to gain control of who I am. Constantly, I've been forcing them back into a corner, locking them in a cage. But, as always, I let them out. Why? Why would I release the very things that are affecting me? Why do I continue to hold these thoughts in my head close instead of pushing them away far from my grasp? Because, I fear that it's who I am. I don't fear much, but I do fear myself. One voice tells me to breathe, to stay calm and rationalize. The others tell me to let go and to spill the endless pools of blood from those who drive my hate and anger. Who slam on the accelerator making my engine pump faster and faster. Until suddenly, I hit a tree or fall off a winding road. Their body is lifeless and I am torn apart. My anger and rage tore me apart, tearing those around me.
My mind is a maze. A giant library containing every memory that I cherish and every memory I've kept hidden. I wasn't born this way, I was molded this way. I grew into a thorn bush instead of a blueberry. The only thing keeping me sane are the people who have good in them. It's those people that make me hope there is still good in this torn world full of torn people. It's those people that keep the monster inside.
So, if I'm being truthful, I don't know who I am; then again, that might be a good thing. Whether we want to believe it or not, we all have minds of monsters. It's just a matter of time before someone goes insane. Our mind is a ticking time bomb, a hell waiting to be released into the world. Not many can handle the stress, the pressure of anxiety. My palms and face will begin to sweat. I begin to breathe heavily, but yet softly. My eyes begin to shift from position to position making my head hurt. Then, they begin to focus. If one were to look inside of them, they'd see the flame, the fire burning as bright as the sun. My hands will twitch and begin to fidget. My chest will start to tighten and my heart will feel like it will spew out of my chest with the arteries and veins still attached. We've all felt anger. We've all felt hate. It's no secret that we do. What is, is what we think in our heads when we feel this way. What we imagine.
I ask myself everyday: “Do I have the mind of a monster? Or am I just lost in this torn world full of torn people?”. I like to think I'm lost and that I'll soon find my way. But, those are just hopes and we all know that hopes are destroyed. I guess I'll just have to keep moving forward. Isn't that what we're supposed to do? To just move on towards a better future and to forget the past? I don't know how it's easy for some, but I know it's hard for me. But, I guess if it means escaping my demons, escaping my thoughts. Then I'll try to move forward. I'll try to be better. I don't know what kind of mind I have. I can only hope that I don't have the mind of a monster.