I suppose trying to recapture that moment would be as futile as trying to go insane in a controlled manner.

But, I have had two epiphanies of sorts in the intervening time so maybe it is for the better that I lost this original page.
First off was when I was trying to describe what I played in Vampire to Anthony at the St. Patrick's day party last week. It is in you. I never had a choice about playing a Malkavian. There is a difference for a true Malkavian. You can't act a true malkavian, I could pretend to be something else, but a Malkavian is just in you. There isn't any 'playing' at the character. It is like method acting to the n'th degree. You are that character. It is in you. Maybe the world just seems different. There is a pressure in your brain that just is there. the world is different. that is like just describing how I see the world and everyone around me playing the game looks at me like I just slapped them. You just can't play Malkavian, that would be so ...wrong. You can tell. Just looking at some person who sees it all normal you can tell they are trying so hard to be 'weird' and 'insane' but that isn't it. A psycho doesn't need to make his hair all weird and act like a loony. It just happens. You don't plan anything. Act natural and that is the character. That is the life. My life. When did it all get so different?
I guess this past week, so much has happened, auto accidents, difficulties in many relationships all around me, I have tried giving my own inner demons a looser rein of sorts. Let them rage in public if you will. I started writing occasionally. letting my consciousness flow. maybe there is something to be seen in the chaos. I hate writing WebPages like this. Or just writing things down like this. I am so far behind where my mind is. I can't keep up. typing is horribly slow. I tried taping myself when I was talking as fast as I could as thoughts flowed in and out of my head. it was just goings o quickly. There was nothing I could do. I started to stutter and lose track I couldn't even speak fast enough to keep up with my thoughts. The world spins around me and is swallowed in the chaos.

When did this all start for me? Am I insane? If you ask yourself that question, it means you aren't. Right? The answer to that scares me more than anything in my life.
I am terrified of losing control. I paint the world in blood. Rage consumes me so much sometimes. Punch, Stab, Shoot, Kill.. Accidents. Explosions. Shotguns. I see it all 1000 times a day, everyone around me dying in gory vivid detail. Is it alternate realities. Is it what might have been. I don't know. I see them and it terrifies me. I cannot begin to describe what I see sometimes. It hurts. When did I get like this? What the FUCK is wrong with me?

I have always been weird. My whole damn bloodline is. My family has severe psychological defects. Nothing as destructive as mine I think but everyone my family knows things they are some of the strangest people they know. So it is in my blood. But what triggered me? I have searched for the answer to that for years. I was a screwed up child, that much is true. I remember when I was about 9 thinking in church that I would make the perfect soldier because I was not afraid to die because I would just go to heaven and that would be wonderful. But in that instant, I doubted and the world changed. What is there was nothing. In fact it made more sense if there was nothing. And my life changed. It hurt yes. But that was one first stepping stone.

Shunned, outcast. Jr. High and then High school. I was the classic tortured soul. I went 2 weeks not speaking for any reason. Very difficult thing to do. Especially for a 14 year old. What makes a child do that. My mother drove my sister out of my house when I was 15. My grandfather died. I think that was a turning point, first of many. I got very annoyed at my emotions. They got the better of me. I didn't like feeling those feelings. I hurt. a lot. I made up my mind that I would not be prey to emotions. I walled up myself. completely and utterly. And I was very good at it. Emotionless. What the fuck does that do to a 13 year old? I did not cry for almost 6 years. 6 years and no tears. try to imagine it. One of my close friends, craft crane killed himself in 94 when I was 17. that hurt. a lot. No tears. I think that is when I started cutting myself. I went to his wake and funeral. No tears. I was in therapy for a few week. Didn't help. I lost everything that summer. All my friends abandoned me or betrayed me. Not a good year. but no tears. Work through that shit. Unfortunately I built such a wall I wasn't very good at good emotions either. I lost the ability to trust too. Still hard to do that one. Somewhere in here I lost something. I think it was something deep inside. be it died or just was shut so far away. I probably do need a shrink. But I have been working through all this shit for 10 years almost.
One productive thing was theater. That was the only outlet for so long. All the rage, anger, lust, love I ever felt I channeled into theater. I still do to some extent.

Imagine a Steel Pot. Paint that happy face on the outside. Boiling seething emotions get poured in. rage, Lust, Hate. Everything. But it is what the world sees outside is what counts right? I still do this.
Some people let it out. Just channel it. What happened to my mind? Why do I see such things? Why do I fear and feel such things?

What the fuck is wrong with me?

3 suicides. I will never get to that point thankfully. Lots of people worried for a long time if I was depressed and suicidal. Depressed yes. Look at the world around you, open your eyes wide and try not to cry. Suicidal. nope. I want to live. Cutting my arm open, feeling the pain, watching the blood, feeling that knife slowly eating through the skin, the sharp pull as your swiftly slice lightly, the aching pull as you slowly cut deep. That wasn't suicidal. That was a release. Funnel the shit of life into your arm and cut it. your blood holds it and it seeps out. but I am past that shit.
kaela saved me from a lot of things. Sadly, she made me remember my emotions. good and bad. greatest love I have ever known as well as the worst betrayal. Most joy and most pain. But it reconnected things. I feel again now. I love her for that. As well as many other things. I sliced open my arm and wrote an entire letter to her at Mississippi state with my own blood. dorm councilors didn't get it. *sigh*
My last year at Mississippi state changed me too. Kaela was there, but sow as Billy. He taught me how to be laid back. I mellowed so much. I still feel as angry as ever sometimes but I can let it go now. recently though I have been edgy. I feel the anger at the edge of my mind. I wall most of it up and deal with it logically. But it doesn't work sometimes.

Every second of every day is a raging battle. My mind against emotion. I know when I die it is over. this universe is doomed. The unbearable weight of helplessness lurks there. My mind stands fast and tall against it all. I am not gone yet. I can feel the edge of my control. I can feel chaos lurking just at the edge of my consciousness. Screaming and howling at me. Hold on tight, don't let go. if you let go, I think I would lose myself. There is so much in my mind.

Standing a crowded room, completely alone

What the fuck is wrong with me?

This has been so much more coherent and though out than the rant which it is replacing. But all true. I have so much more to say. I just can't type fast enough.

What the fuck is wrong with me?

-Scratch