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Comfortable Madness First PDF 4-13-18

That World Everything

That World Everything was incomprehensible. Images lay over one another like leaves in summer trees. Things changed without warning, flipping quickly by. First, I stood on a building, a single black tower in an empty world. The air was perfectly still, poised like a cat just before the pounce. Next, water brawled by and dropped over an edge, falling forever. Mist and noise fought around me, folding and bawling. The bottom was so far away it lost meaning as soon as realized I wasn’t going over. Things changed again. The ground stretched without end. Stones gathered in sullen groups. Prickly plants muttered and cussed at me. They reached out with sharp fingers to pull at me. Heat and grit ground away until I was nothing but meat. In front of me, a vast hole. ¨This is all yours,” Gid said. He came out of the bruised air and stood with me. I tried to cringe but my body wasn´t my own. “Everything else is illusion,” he said. I couldn’t speak. Gid kissed me. Everything crumpled. “You cannot serve two masters,” he said, a disembodied voice. I spun into glittering dust, a single speck wrapped in nothing.

Secrets Sadness verged on depression. I stood at the edge waiting for one word, one thought to send me over. It was hard to think or even exist. Somehow, I left my body and floated in the corner of the room watching and listening. Everyone here was a cutout. Fake. They stared at Mac with dead eyes. Their thoughts pushed into my head, crowding me. Mac stood at the front of the class talking about Romeo and Juliet. “It wasn’t love that killed them,” he said. “It was secrecy.” None of it mattered to me. I hated Shakespeare. I hated when people couldn’t get to the point. Shakespeare talked around things instead of coming right out and saying what he needed to say. I sat and listened to the crow in the window talk about the fiery taste of stolen eggs and nestlings. I listened to him bitch about the arrogance of ravens. “Butter,” Mac said. I jerked back to reality. “You okay?” Mac asked. I nodded. “You were talking to yourself,” he said. Blood flooded my face. This was not good. No one wanted to know what was in my head. It scared them. It embarrassed them. Coy sat in his chair, smirking, whispering something to the guy next to him. “Do you need a break?” Mac asked. I gathered my shit and retreated to the hall. I stood alone on the hard floor. The sadness came back though, heavier now, duller: full on depression. I could barely move. Ghosts came from the corners without faces, without hands or feet. Voices screamed. I jumped and twitched. I remembered every sin I’d committed. Shame turned the blood solid in my veins. On the way to the Shack,