How so? Well, I kid you not that things such as my motor skills, memory, breathing and even the intonations in my voice began to change — and not for the better either! My facial expressions were also manipulated by the demons.
Confessions of a Mad Man by Miller Pope
My eyes would bulge out. Then there was the not-so little fact that my physical strength increased exponentially! I became Incredible Hulk-like strong. This was no Hollywood show, mind you. I had become a one-man horror show! A wrecking crew all by myself.
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It was like I was the car and the demons laughed as they sat behind the wheel, driving and steering wildly at will. My body was an open road for them. I could hardly do a thing on my own. So cruel and cunning they were; so corrosively strategic too. They spread like an evil-form of streptococcal bacteria within me and eventually took over every facet of my person. Thoughts of suicide began to pervade like a spreading darkness over my thought process. Then just like that, anxiety showed up on the scene. Desperation and depression began to tag-team in the ring of my psyche as well.
I had to flee my familiar home — siblings and parents — for the caves in the area; caves that the poor often occupied because of their inability to afford village life. Yet mine was a different kind of poverty — and occupation! I lost everything.
Confessions Madman by Leila Sebbar
I lost me. Once my neighbouring cave-dwellers caught on to my antics, they moved on rather quickly. The reality was that people feared me. They feared what I represented. Even when I was somewhat calm, the general population glanced at me with eyes of disgust, while giving me an exaggerated wide-berth. I noticed too that they always seemed to tote a club or chain when passing by.
I almost think they had wished for me to lash out at them. With my will all-but handcuffed by the demons, they began to cause me to want to harm myself even more. I exhibited vulgar and violent outbursts. It was like a fix I had to have. I bled…I yelled…I cried…but no mercy within existed to stop myself from doing these things.
I hated myself whatever was left of me ; even more, the dirty, hell-diseased demons that had filled me.
Confessions Of A Real Life Mad Man - Six Pixels of Separation
Did I mention there were likely thousands of them in my body? I would find that out later. That was the job of the demons I now supposed. On their time and dime!! They were having too much fun torturing me to kill me just yet. On occasion, people got brave and ganged up on me trying to confine my limbs with fetters and chains.
What a joke that was. I pummelled a few of them; well, not me, but them the demons. Nothing could bind me. All I could do was the will of the demons inside me. A pathetic existence I had! My throat was raw and fiery. Whenever I did cry out, I was simultaneously tempted to pick up sharp rocks and slice my skin open.
Bones exposed. It hurt, but the demons made the pain tolerable. How much more of it? There I was — an as-good-as-dead person crawling ever-so-slowly toward their grave — and maybe worse. That was me. There was just no chance or so I had thought of ever overcoming this abominable and unyielding mob ruling within me. A man — or shall I say one who I knew had to be more than mere human, who had landed on the eastern shores of Gerasa, came near.
Had to be a foreigner, I assured myself. The townsfolk surely warned him. Sign in.
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