Home / Thoughts / Howling at the moon

Howling at the moon

Avatar for get_the_author

Written by Sean on Thursday, March 16, 2006

Full moon here tonight. I feel like howling. Perhaps not because it’s the full moon, to my knowledge I don’t have any werewolf blood in me, nor any weresheep either. Mad I am, howling mad. I dare not start, for fear I’d not be able to stop. I’d howl and yell and scream until exhaustion would take me.

Until the white men in white coat, the men in coat, the men, the men, the coats would come at me and take me away, put me in a padded cell, howling still and forever. And I’d not be able to use the chair, I’d howl even more.

The edge of sanity, I see it, I know it. I play hopscotch with that line, and the bloody thing keeps moving back and forth, in an ever expanding spiral. So I circle the edge, in pain, in doubt, howling inside, because to release the scream is a sure sign that I’ll never be able to stop, no stopping, no jumping from bridge, hear me, little man in a white coat? You’re not getting me… Yet.

Teetering, tottering, unstable at best, that’s what I am. Unstable, "mental", ohhh aye. Go to bed, wake up, put on your "happy face", don’t let others see how much you hurt, because they’d see the cracks, and the moment the cracks are noticed, the howl will escape, and it’ll go on and on and on, and hurt, or perhaps it would be release from hurt, in any case, it would attract attention, the attention of the white men that would throw me in a white padded cell. White, the colour of mourning in so many asian countries. Perhaps it should be a little black cell. Black men in black coats throwing me in a black padded cell without windows, without lights, censory deprivation, absorbing the incessant howl.

No, I won’t bite you. My bark is worse than my bite, and we all know sheep don’t bite. Baaaaaaah! Baaaaaah!

If you’ve read this far, you’ll probably think I’ve lost it. A gold star for you, I’ve lost it. But I’ve a firm grip on the leash that doesn’t let it wander too far. Yeah, I’ve lost it, but I’m still able to pretend and pass for someone who hasn’t lost it. And all that energy spent in pretending "all is fine" is depleting my body, depleting my resources. And the less I have, the more I wanna HOOOOWWWLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLL.

 

This entry appears in Sean's Thoughts, Thoughts. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed.

You may have your say, or trackback from your own site.

Post your comments

Comment info


(required)


(valid email required)



(required)

Send

Anti-spam - answer to confirm you are not a spam bot


 

© transabled.org - 1994-2008 - All Rights Reserved.

About Sean

Sean is transabled. His body image is that of an L2 paraplegic. He has been living pretty much 100% of his public life from a wheelchair for the last decade, but hasn't found peace of mind (and is unlikely to until he does become a para).