Grand Pillars of Madness
The human body and mind are intertwined electro-kinetic entities. This system is prone to wear and degradation. Time, the intangible function of mankind, erodes the exterior slowly exposing the patient’s soul. However, a lethal lethargy manifests in between the humors’ nothingness. The cancer of the conscious sets to dissolve the soul from within.
Anger hates doubt and exhaustion stresses depression—psychological conditions that are more potent than the expedited passing of time bound for blankness. The mind fades to grey and the body abandons life. A deficit of motorization, a collapse of its posture. It is an empty suit of veins and fat.
Disassociation is an early symptom. Small auditory hallucinations creep out of the sub-conscious. The articles of space around the patient twitch as her mental angst crescendos. Fractures in the psyche split open to reveal a hidden mythology. And the turbulent thoughts grenade like a metaphorical machine self-destructing towards a hundred miles an hour.
Grand pillars of madness rise from the base of the mind to support self’s shaky structure. This is merely scaffolding and no dose of conventional medicine will solidify the cascading concrete of architectural insanity. Neuroses of macabre intent inbred incubi to exploit the weaknesses of the cortical halls. Creatures emerging from the fissures ascend to the high countries of thought. Fortress walls crumble at the presence of stained ivory claws. The psychological wounds bleed like sap draining from the trees of the ethereal forest.
The greatest threat to the patient is not the creatures of the conscious. Nor is it the weak foundations of the mind. The internal world is raining hot, cast iron shards of cancerous dark matter. The threat to the patient is this amorphous entity that clouds the skies, dams the rivers, and slaughters the neural livestock of within. Nothing is washed away. The patient looks outward from the inward windings of insanity for a small taste of grace.
This entity assumes power and no one associated with the patient may immediately observe change. The gait, the tongue, and the countenance of the body shift. The creatures that were freed from the basement of the mind begin to assemble gears, cog work, and conveyers of ill intent. Evil mythology ignites its sinister engines and a new symbol is the only evidence of change.
With a smile it would appear that nothing was lost and the patient has slain all her psychical spades. The truth is cloaked—but remains dynamic. The action is shadowed—yet very much perceived. The real person has faded into nothing—but muzzled life still clutches the trapeze. The twirling of a cane or the whistling of a tune fools the closest of comrades. The foe thrives on the chaos between the opportunities of modern psychological existence. The patient’s previous life cries unseen and is no longer ill but will continue as a fiend. All you may see is the silhouette of a top hat amongst the braying shadows of the obscene.
