Little pearls of my mind

Two

"The worth part about having a mental illness is people expect you to behave as if you don't." - Joker. 

I'm laying on the floor.

It's cold outside. 

I think we are in winter but I'm not sure; weather change every time but I can see that guards are wearing coat. 

I can ear a little bit of music, the bald guard always listen to music when it's his turn to go around to the front to check up if it doesn't have problems. 

It's true, some prisoners have already tried to escape but not sucessfully. 

I never tried. I don't want to be safe. 

Being here allows me to be protected, protected from myself. I am capable of anything. and it scares me because I can't control myself, it's as if something came to possess my body for a few moments , which for me lasts for hours, to make me do shit: mutilations, attempted suicide, attacks on other people, I also once woke up with torn tufts of hair, moreover I do not know why but my hair has never grown back in these places. But it's me, not somebody else. I have an Einstein look, practical for flirting with babes. Nah, it's no use, I'll never get out of here and I'd rather stay there than hurt a girl who didn't ask for anything. I am my only problem, insolvent, but very present.

Yesterday my psychiatrist says that i'm not guilty. But I don't think so. I'm guilty, I'm my own problem, with no issues, no hopes. I'm an horrible person who killed people and also myself. I don't deserve to live. God knows that. But he doesn't care. He creates me for making me sad, angry, scared of myself, of everything, every time, every where, again and again and again. 

She trusts me but it's just giving her fake hopes, she can't saves me even if she loves me. It's just gonna hurt her more and more. I don't want that. 

I want to die. I want to leave this body, this head, this mind, those scaring eyes who are mine.

I'm afraid of myself. But nobody gives a damn fuck about me. 

They treat me like I'm a fucking lab rat. BUT I'M NOT. 

Why am I like this ? Why am I forced to be like this ? Why can't I be like I want to be ?  Why ? Oh god tell me why !

I'm tired.

I can feel he's coming, again. But please not now. 

His psychiatrist goes into his room and sits down on the chair facing his bed.

It's a shame he loved her...