I keep trying to write something that grabs hold of the feeling of being in a psychosis–fully separated from reality in some horrible fashion. I don’t think I’ll ever fully be able to capture the experience, but hopefully some fragments of it made it onto this draft. -S
Pry them open to reality all flawed time to see the breakdown.
Fragmented existence done in fractal recall patterns contour the daily grind.
Never stable it will flow over you vicious, merciless, and without care.
Trust nothing you hear or view belief in yourself will be the only way through.
Find solid footing in personal identity hold fast to it as the walls collapse.
Never accept what you remember memory and truth are malleable.
Painted in a thousand shades of false test yourself and survive.
Wiped out internally by the struggle cleansed to nothingness, a relief.
Struggle harder and the pain will gather, simpler by far to outlast it than fight.
Planes of existence and thought overlap confusing rationality to no end.
Get gone boy this is no game for children. Sit back and let yourself be washed away pray, pray, pray to any god listening that it will end soon. Sometimes they listen and sometimes they don’t, but what have you got to lose?