Mental Clutter and Demons

Demons scream with a chill in their voice. Their silence is the loudest one can hear. But why is it that we care only for the babies that cry in the middle of the night? What makes them hungry? Biology?

For all I know, all the sciences that I see are demons waiting for their time to shine. Science has evolved to a level where it is common sense to most of us. Yet, there are large populations that benefit not from the developments of the rich.

Demons at war?

Angels, they say are always looking at us with a happy heart, protecting us. But what about the demons that are so intensely involved with our lives? Why are we so afraid of them? Do we really fear our demons, while looking up to those that rarely cast a blessing upon us?

What kind of god would want to kill non-believers? Maybe they're just people that have accepted their demons. This might seem too satanic to people, but it's only a vague thought out of my random mind.

Maybe I should change the name of my blog.

Nah, my demons won't let me.

May the Darkness guide you to Your Light!

Strangulation

Strangulation. The tepid ropes of the vile education system curled themselves against the Adam’s apple of his throat as he lay writhing in pain from the fever that had engulfed his numb body. He was lying there, sweating profusely, crying silently over the spiritual disaster that was his life. For a long time the potholes of the princely societal acceptance had haunted his smooth ride in life, making every possible bump as painful as can be. Hell cannot even hope to be so sadistic. And his state at the moment was hell. Hell to the truest form.

The ceiling fan moved silently, like a ninja slicing the air around with its assassin’s blade. The air grew old and aged as time passed in the night. Beads of sweat swarmed his face, his body, his hairy legs. The bed seemed too small to hold in his big dilemma. The sheets too tiny to keep him warm to the fullest. He had covered his face, breathing the carbon that he had exhaled only a few moments back. The darkness of the night had only but profoundly bled out dry, only to leave behind dark bruises in the atmosphere that was his room. The same room he lived, no, the same room he existed. Living is a term debatable for this sort of life. An education that has no meaning, pursuing a piece of paper that holds your dignity and walk shamefully if it cannot be achieved. This is the narrow-minded lifestyle that they all lived. His peers. His perpetrators. His parents.

He fell asleep talking to his girlfriend, knowing that he was tired. But the fever that dawned upon him knew not its limits. It wasn’t just a physical ailment; it was much more. The scars and bruises were not left on the outer shell of the human body that was his self, but deeper inside. The scars lay on his mind. The bruises painted his soul. The stink and rot of a lustful craving for self destruction had been clinging onto his back forcefully kept there for a better status in society.

But what would these social bastards know of the pains and penance a little man like him would pay for that unchecked and adulterated dignity? What would his friends know of the agony of anointing ink in the wasteful use of thoughtless words? What would the very non-existent God do if challenged about the pains? There were no answers to these rhetoric doubts that flooded him as he lay, writhing in pain.

Was it the food that sickened him? The tiring day in a disgusting place full of filthy, despicable and tasteless fools who lived only because they had a life, exhausted his living strength? What was it that troubled his soul to the extent that the physical attributes attached had to suffer like Icarus who tried only to fly. It was this. The troubles and times of past that haunted him. Mistakes that had trodden him down before, that were in effect again, at a different pace, at a different magnitude, but mistakes nonetheless.  

He had Won

He walked alone, on a desolate street, thoughts of joy churning through his mind. The sky was gloomy but his mind afresh. Filled with emotions of jolly, his feet carried him towards his destination. Stars revolved around his head, as angels and demons danced to salute him. His was a victory of pride and honor. He had earned it. He had been in utter disgrace and now, he had won.

He was a lad from a happy family. No worries or troubles even meddled with his peace. But then came that little idiot of a boy. What was his name? Aah well, it’s not necessary anymore. That Idiot, as he would always refer to him, made his college life miserable. It was his first day in college when this Idiot met him. Idiot was a senior and so, he respected him. But little did he know, that this Idiot, meant to rag him.

Well, that was in the past. That Idiot was dead now. And he killed him.

Yes, this boy who we are reading about, walking towards his destination, well, yes. He killed him.

His destination?

Insanity. Yes, it was insanity. You didn’t believe that this story was going somewhere good did you? Oh well, too bad. He grinned as he walked towards insanity.

A tiny door opened in a house at the end of the street and a wrinkled gray hand gestured him inside. He walked in. Inside was an abyss with nothingness surrounding him, with a silent deathly aura and an aroma of filth and reeking flesh. He kept smiling. He had won.

A million spider webs shot at him, entangling his limbs and body into yielding. He knelt down as huge hairy apes slapped him red and raw. He kept smiling. He had won.

Why they asked. No reply. He kept smiling. He had won.

Was it so bad? The Idiot had driven him to insanity. Yes, it was the Idiot who had tortured his whole living mental state, so much that he resorted to a mind of blood rather than beauty. Can ragging actually take you to such extreme limits?

I don’t know. Ask him! Ask him all you want. All he will do is smile. But of course, what can we say?

He had won. 

In the Dead of Night...

It is night time. Dark pitch midnight. Time for the critters and crawlers to rule the land as most of us big people sleep soundly. But what if, just what if you were awake one night, with the courage to walk towards that empty garden near your place? Imagine going there, in the dead of night, with no living organisms other than the viruses and bacteria that infest that land. The grass and trees seem devoid of life in the cold of the pitch black dead night.

And then, from within the darkness, you see a coffin. A coffin, with something in it. No, it isn't your own body, it isn't Dracula or any other vampire. It's just a regular coffin with a bowl full of candy in it.

You ignore the candy obviously, you're not a kid.

You look around the demonic garden with its isolated suffocating aura that seems to get into your head. Your mind begins to wander off into deep thoughts of why and how when suddenly,

A demon eyes you and says, "Come child, we have waited for you."

What would you do....?

Indulgences

There is one thing that we all have in our lives, one thing that we all suffer through. Indulgence. We all indulge in various addictions, big or small, that cause us harm irreparable. Why must we do so? Is the high really that great? Is it worth the million tears that we will never see? Is it worth the suffering we impose on ourselves and our loving spectators who try so firmly to convince us to give up, but fail terribly?

To be true, we are masters of our own lives and we have the right to choose what is good and what is bad for us. But what can it be in that little cancer-stick that attracts such a big crowd of passive suicidal maniacs? Well, I cannot say for I have personally stayed away from these cravings, as much as I can. I won't lie that I haven't given in to these, but yes, I have managed to keep true to myself, not letting them take a hold of me. I have seen many and more fall prey to them. But there are those who are strong enough to refuse the prolonged torture they might have inflicted upon themselves.

Of course, this issue will keep going on for ages and eons to come. It is for you to decide what is right and what is wrong. Be it a mild sugar addiction to a heavy crack craving, it all needs to be kept under check. But this again, is subject to individual perception. Do what the right thing is, or fall deep into the lustful pit of torments. It is up to you. For yourself, and for anyone who you love.

May the Darkness guide you to Your Light!

Demons

We all have demons inside of us. Demons that haunt our lively days, and lie eagerly under our beds for us to creep into their hazardous darkness. A darkness that we only see in our dreams as they, in their abstract and bizarre way, guide our epileptic subconscious from its Penrose stairs to its Belvedere. Children have these demons. From their childhood till their puberty, from their adulthood till their death beds, these demons will haunt you all for all that this physical life holds for you. But what are these Demons?
Wights?
Monsters?
Spirits?
Energies?
Whatever they be, they are a personal entity, a deity that only an individual can experience. So, shoo away, or embrace your demons, for they are mere parts of the Greater You. Who knows, what wonders these Dark things may have kept hidden under their cave under your bed?