Laying.
Waiting.
Watching.
Lurking; This acid bubbles and boils with anticipation.
It churns... then turns... and eventually burns its way up my esophagus and out of my body, spewing a hateful soliloquy of pain in every direction.
I am bound captive.
If only I could take a hot white ember of truth and cauterize the cavernous, cancerous acid within me. I would at once be free!
However, no; that would be too easy.
And as we all know, that which is easy rarely ever is of worth or permanence.
So I will let it burn, bubble, bleed and ooze; yet, at the same time, I will never allow myself to succumb completely or loose.
Yes, it is better to know and fight the evil of today, than succumb to the consequence of ignorance and cowardice.
So with this knowledge of weakness, what then is left for me to do... besides pray?
Yes, the acid is still there, but it is continually held at bay through the simple and silent power of a man's humble prayer.
Saturday, January 24, 2009
Wednesday, January 14, 2009
The Nothing
As twilight begins to set in, I can taste the lack of interest in the air around me.
Still it fills a void.
As planes begin to take off and my rambling turns to scoff; The humidity creeps through my window as a physical manifestation of the boring phantasm I have created, through my vapid chatting.
Still it feels a void, as I try to fill the void of silence around me.
Why now am I scared of silence?
Because silence is the microphone of the minds conscience.
I've done nothing wrong though, leave me alone.
That's a lie, in wrong things done we humans are always one.
Talking for me? Well it fills the void, and it helps me feel the void.
So, some drink, some smoke, some laugh with and at others to cover up and and make numb. However as long as we try, the souls stinging silence will always come.
I talk.
Does it fill the void?
Still it feels the void.
Still it fills a void.
As planes begin to take off and my rambling turns to scoff; The humidity creeps through my window as a physical manifestation of the boring phantasm I have created, through my vapid chatting.
Still it feels a void, as I try to fill the void of silence around me.
Why now am I scared of silence?
Because silence is the microphone of the minds conscience.
I've done nothing wrong though, leave me alone.
That's a lie, in wrong things done we humans are always one.
Talking for me? Well it fills the void, and it helps me feel the void.
So, some drink, some smoke, some laugh with and at others to cover up and and make numb. However as long as we try, the souls stinging silence will always come.
I talk.
Does it fill the void?
Still it feels the void.
Thursday, January 8, 2009
Embrace
Horns honking people pushing.
Lights flash and so do minds.
The smell of stress and humanity overpowers my senses.
Yet as eyes slowly embrace lips are not far behind.
At once all is lost but somehow 'one'.
She is the energy of a thousand winds rushing;
but with the wisper of a pine trees first breath.
Around us though are horns honking, people pushing.
lights flashing...
lights flashing...
Lights flash and so do minds.
The smell of stress and humanity overpowers my senses.
Yet as eyes slowly embrace lips are not far behind.
At once all is lost but somehow 'one'.
She is the energy of a thousand winds rushing;
but with the wisper of a pine trees first breath.
Around us though are horns honking, people pushing.
lights flashing...
lights flashing...
Tuesday, January 6, 2009
Happy Birthday at the Hospital
As the chair smashes my face I am amazed at the lack of pain I feel. Did it really just happen? Did he really just slam the protruding metal legs of a chair into my face? As the chair leg strikes just above my left eye, inches away from my temple but thankfully towards the more resilient part of the human skull (the forehead) a flash of pure white light streams across my eyes that lasts the duration of the impact.
That's it I think we have been chasing this patient around the hospital for the better part of two hours, hopping fences running in and out of buildings, making sure he doesn't leave the campus or harm any other patients; and offcourse listening to all sourts of verbal abuse and name calling. It's a silly game and although he's crazy he knows the rules better than any of us. He can punch, kick bite, hit you over the head with a chair once and as long as he stops and attempts to go to his room the staff can not restrain him and the game can go on.
At this time however I have drawn the line since he is raising the chair above his head again to strike me with it. As I lower my body and then spring up and forward lunging towards my assailant like a defensive lineman I remember what he said when I arrived to this party a few hours ago responding to the red alert call I heard over the radio. "I think we can take them Satan theres only three of them". I almost laugh at this thought as I with one hand knock the chair out of his hands and and with my other grab his right leg, good thing I am 6'1 and he's short or I wouldn't be able to do both. With adrenaline and pure, white-hot rage pumping through me, I drive my shoulder into his gut. A satisfying "ugh" of pain and loss of air exits the patients mouth. I usually have a higher tolerance for the clients negative behavior but this patient is what we call at the hospital a "tourist". A tourist is a client who is melingering or exagerating his disorder in order to be placed in a Mental Hospital rather than a prison. We know it, he knows it, but the psychologists in charge are clueless. So I am mad, I have a kid and a wife waiting for me at home and this punk was trying to stop all of that by ending me.
Now that the chair is out of his hands and falling towards the ground I bring my other hand down to his other leg. With the momentum of my forward running movement and the springing upward of my back I pick him off the ground. Only one place to go now and that's towards the wall. Before the impact I move my head to the left now to make sure the only impact with the wall is his body. This is a good thing as I hear the cabinet walls shatter and sharp, shards of glass spill around me like a tipped bucket of ice hitting the ground. Oh yea I forgot the glass case was there. This startles me as well as the fact that the impact did little to slow my attacker down. He is on his feet and throwing sloppy punches at me now as I am trying to tie him up again with my arms. A few make contact with me but they're too wild and off balance to cause any harm or even faze me.
I am determined now that he is going to the ground. In the back of my mind however I am wondering why the other two staff behind me haven't backed me up yet then I realize that it has only been about a second and a half since this live wire hit me over the head with the chair. This time I catch him off balance put one of my legs in front of him and half trip half throw him to the ground. He falls face forward but when he hits the ground he spins onto his back, as I try to lunge on top of him he kicks me square in the face with his sketcher boots. He caught me good, right on the eye. I lunge forward again and again I am really pissed off now. With each lunge he kicks me in the same spot, over my left eye. I am laughing at myself on the inside I look ridiculous getting hit three time by two different feet on the same eye. On the fourth time I wise up a little and fake a lunge forward doge the two kicks and catch his right leg.
I push his legs over and move to what I think they call a half guard in wrestling. Now he is punching me in the face again, he catches my right eye now pretty well and then catches my chin, another flash of light over my eyes but as soon as I see it I am back. More white hot anger for me to feed on. With one movement I flip him on his back and with every bit of energy pull his struggling arms to the side of his body. At the mental hospital this is what we call a prone restraint. I learned how to do it in training and in the past three months working out here I have become quite good at it.
He doesn't stop squirming he really does fight like he has the devil in him, this feeling is amplified by the non-stop stream of profanity and ferrel like gasps, screams and gnashing of teeth that exits his mouth. Now the other two staff finally jump on his back a legs as I try to maintain his arms. One arm breaks free and tries to claw me through my sweat shirt, then he grabs my right arm and attempts to bite my forearm, I am used to it and can see it coming before he even thinks it. Even more adrenaline flows, with every bit of energy left I pull his arm back down and to the side of his body. It's hard though he feels like he has the strength of three men. There's no way I could even compete with this kid without the aid of my adrenaline and rage.
Even more staff arrive one comes over to me, "Man are you alright your bleeding pretty bad?"
"Ya I'm fine."
"No really your bleeding pretty bad let me take over and you go get some help."
I look down at the back of the patients head and wonder why he would choose his birthday to dump a scalding pot of coffee over another patients head. That's what started this whole incident anyway. He was having his birthday cake and everything and then just decides to dump some boiling coffee on another persons head. Needless to say she is over in the medical wing of the hospital receiving attention.
Happy birthday Saul, Happy birthday to you.
That's it I think we have been chasing this patient around the hospital for the better part of two hours, hopping fences running in and out of buildings, making sure he doesn't leave the campus or harm any other patients; and offcourse listening to all sourts of verbal abuse and name calling. It's a silly game and although he's crazy he knows the rules better than any of us. He can punch, kick bite, hit you over the head with a chair once and as long as he stops and attempts to go to his room the staff can not restrain him and the game can go on.
At this time however I have drawn the line since he is raising the chair above his head again to strike me with it. As I lower my body and then spring up and forward lunging towards my assailant like a defensive lineman I remember what he said when I arrived to this party a few hours ago responding to the red alert call I heard over the radio. "I think we can take them Satan theres only three of them". I almost laugh at this thought as I with one hand knock the chair out of his hands and and with my other grab his right leg, good thing I am 6'1 and he's short or I wouldn't be able to do both. With adrenaline and pure, white-hot rage pumping through me, I drive my shoulder into his gut. A satisfying "ugh" of pain and loss of air exits the patients mouth. I usually have a higher tolerance for the clients negative behavior but this patient is what we call at the hospital a "tourist". A tourist is a client who is melingering or exagerating his disorder in order to be placed in a Mental Hospital rather than a prison. We know it, he knows it, but the psychologists in charge are clueless. So I am mad, I have a kid and a wife waiting for me at home and this punk was trying to stop all of that by ending me.
Now that the chair is out of his hands and falling towards the ground I bring my other hand down to his other leg. With the momentum of my forward running movement and the springing upward of my back I pick him off the ground. Only one place to go now and that's towards the wall. Before the impact I move my head to the left now to make sure the only impact with the wall is his body. This is a good thing as I hear the cabinet walls shatter and sharp, shards of glass spill around me like a tipped bucket of ice hitting the ground. Oh yea I forgot the glass case was there. This startles me as well as the fact that the impact did little to slow my attacker down. He is on his feet and throwing sloppy punches at me now as I am trying to tie him up again with my arms. A few make contact with me but they're too wild and off balance to cause any harm or even faze me.
I am determined now that he is going to the ground. In the back of my mind however I am wondering why the other two staff behind me haven't backed me up yet then I realize that it has only been about a second and a half since this live wire hit me over the head with the chair. This time I catch him off balance put one of my legs in front of him and half trip half throw him to the ground. He falls face forward but when he hits the ground he spins onto his back, as I try to lunge on top of him he kicks me square in the face with his sketcher boots. He caught me good, right on the eye. I lunge forward again and again I am really pissed off now. With each lunge he kicks me in the same spot, over my left eye. I am laughing at myself on the inside I look ridiculous getting hit three time by two different feet on the same eye. On the fourth time I wise up a little and fake a lunge forward doge the two kicks and catch his right leg.
I push his legs over and move to what I think they call a half guard in wrestling. Now he is punching me in the face again, he catches my right eye now pretty well and then catches my chin, another flash of light over my eyes but as soon as I see it I am back. More white hot anger for me to feed on. With one movement I flip him on his back and with every bit of energy pull his struggling arms to the side of his body. At the mental hospital this is what we call a prone restraint. I learned how to do it in training and in the past three months working out here I have become quite good at it.
He doesn't stop squirming he really does fight like he has the devil in him, this feeling is amplified by the non-stop stream of profanity and ferrel like gasps, screams and gnashing of teeth that exits his mouth. Now the other two staff finally jump on his back a legs as I try to maintain his arms. One arm breaks free and tries to claw me through my sweat shirt, then he grabs my right arm and attempts to bite my forearm, I am used to it and can see it coming before he even thinks it. Even more adrenaline flows, with every bit of energy left I pull his arm back down and to the side of his body. It's hard though he feels like he has the strength of three men. There's no way I could even compete with this kid without the aid of my adrenaline and rage.
Even more staff arrive one comes over to me, "Man are you alright your bleeding pretty bad?"
"Ya I'm fine."
"No really your bleeding pretty bad let me take over and you go get some help."
I look down at the back of the patients head and wonder why he would choose his birthday to dump a scalding pot of coffee over another patients head. That's what started this whole incident anyway. He was having his birthday cake and everything and then just decides to dump some boiling coffee on another persons head. Needless to say she is over in the medical wing of the hospital receiving attention.
Happy birthday Saul, Happy birthday to you.
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