A Message from Mitch

It always scares the shit out me. I fight it for hours, denying the truth… writing it off to delusional tendencies. My new theory is early onset alzheimer’s. It’s easier to accept the looney bin if the cause is something my insurance will pay for.

I’m officially fucking nuts though, because it happened again tonight…
after it happened again today. I will never be able to describe the emotional overflow that tags along. It always builds to a point of hysterics. Tears and shit… sniffling and struggling to breath.

That’s when I give in. Every time. It seems like an exchange, like I’m bartering for the control of my emotions. In return, I give up control of that delusional switch in my brain. As I’m catching my breath, wiping the tears, and calming down to center myself… that’s when I just can’t find the strength any more. The ghosts in the room start talking, and I am too beat down to ignore them. I know what your thinking… Looney bin for this kid, ASAP.

Well, better to be a realist than a pessimist I think. This is my reality…

The Watts Towers of Simon Rodia


Tonight… It was my buddy Mitch. He started listing people he wanted me to tell that he loved: his mom, his brothers… he said “all of ’em.” I stopped him there because I knew that the list would be too long for my feeble mind to remember.

He really wants his family and friends to know that when you’re sad and you’re picturing his smiling face in your mind… it’s not just a figment of your imagination. He’s really there with you, watching and listening. He really wants to talk to you. He tries to talk to you. Those things you tell yourself that he would be saying. He is really saying those things to you. He gives you hugs. Yeah, I know, it’s the official kind of crazy.

In conclusion though… I hope science can eventually prove that ghosts exist. I’d feel so much better about myself… maybe Steve Hawking can weave them into his infinite dimensions theory.

—leest1—

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About Lee Stone -leest1-

The world is changing: Stand for Something. Soporte Para Algo. Independent Poet/Artist. Portland, OR · http://facebook.com/sonstone
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2 Responses to A Message from Mitch

  1. Stephanie says:

    I don’t know if it’s good to give advice, but I’m going to do a bit of it and hope you take it with a grain of salt. I think that sadness can do crazy things to us, but it is best not to label things too much even if we are ‘crazy.’ The best you can do is find someone who knows you well to talk these things through. Also, I’m not adverse to counseling, but you have to be willing to sift through all of the crappy counselors out there. If it doesn’t feel right, then find a new one. I’m sorry you’re having trouble. I do not know if this is the case with you, but sometimes a panic attack can make you feel that type of breakdown. If it’s bad enough, you can even hallucinate. The ‘looney bin’ is for people who are a danger to themselves or others, or can’t take care of themselves. My friendly advice is to be kind to yourself, because we can be our own worst critic, and watch out for people who are naive about the range of human experience; it can make us feel alienated from one another, when really we are all made of the same stuff in the end…

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