FROM The diary of a mad man

This morning I woke up crazy. Last night, Sanity refused to show his face so my current mental state is no surprise. I lie in bed watching the second hand of my wall clock, I never knew how loud it ticked until now––and for some reason my pillow’s damp. The members of my platoon are upstairs getting ready for the day, their feet are heavy––they march migraines into my mental…a madman’s reveille. I know the time to man my post will soon come but I woke up crazy this morning and making sense of my new “normal” is no easy feat so be patient with me, please? This room that I’m in is now foreign. It reeks of nostalgia; my lungs are full but for some reason, I can’t stop hyperventilating. Can you help me?

Gravity joins Oxygen in his betrayal and the room shifts, my bed slithers to the wall, everything flips, my grip on the sheets slips and now, somehow, I’m walking on the ceiling. Blood rushes to my head and tears soon follow, falling like raindrops and spreading across my bed as the mourning dew. I look down and see that a part of me is still in the bed begging slumber to come party once more. He hopelessly covers his head with the comforter. Maybe if he slips into yesterday, tomorrow will never know today and sleep will put sane in.