createmadness

[createmadness]

People these days argue a lot about the conception of a child, the sciences and technicalities, the religiosity and sin, the consciousness of it all....

To them, I ask of the monstrosities that hide away in the crevices of the so-called "humanity". The feral brutality of humankind—broken, tormented, impulsive, forced..., yet blind to the afflictions it causes.

We tear each other apart over a cluster of cells, over the "holiness" of it all. But when have we ever valued "life"? The living seek the mercy of death, and no one bats an eye. Conception might be the beginning of life, but an unwanted life? That is the beginning of a child's indoctrination into a legacy of inherited hurt.

- K

[createmadness]

They're talking about me again.

Switch it off.

They don't think I'm pretty enough.

Switch it off.

They're mad I didn't score well again.

Switch it off.

They want me to be thinner and taller.

SWITCH IT OFF.

They don't love me anymore....

SWITCH IT OFF! SWITCH IT OFF! SWITCH IT OFFFF!!!!!

[createmadness]

"Don't degrade your child," I heard my father mention this to someone on call.

Which is weird because he never applied the same thought process to his own child.

I wonder how he managed to stray from his own principles.

Was it indeed my fault after all...

- K

[createmadness]

We are nothing but a collection of false absolutisms and overgeneralised averages.

A fool may argue perhaps. "I see the truth that you do not," they'd boast. To which I'd ask, "Which truth sir?" The truth that has been fed to us since the beginning of time or the truth that was unravelled by mankind, for mankind.

For I do not believe in a reality where everything we know is absolute rather, a concoction of averages we derived when the uncertainty of the world became too damning to shoulder.

- K

[createmadness]

Your violence whispered at me, gnawing at every bit of my soul, creeping its way into my bones, becoming one with my bloodstream.

"She's so gentle"

- They said. And why wouldn't I be? After all I chose to bleed when I saw your face in the mirror.

I broke myself apart piece by piece, refusing to become the monster you were turning me into.

My gentleness shall never be yours to own, it was and will always be mine to hold, mine to keep, and mine to own.

- K

[createmadness]

Each time I return, I seem to linger at the doorstep, religiously, without failing. The steps seem somehow heavier, and the air more suffocating. But alas, with a deep sigh, weight on my shoulders, head bowed down, thoughts amess, I pull open the door with all my might. It never does open in the first go. I was told pain makes you ‘stronger,’ but why do I feel so weak?

Home is not a “happy place” for everyone afterall.

- K