‘King Madness

‘King Madness.
how long have you been like this?
‘king years 🙂

Speak to Me (pink floyd)
(Mason)
“I’ve been mad for fucking years, absolutely years, been over the edge for yonks, been working me buns off for bands…”
“I’ve always been mad, I know I’ve been mad, like the
most of us…very hard to explain why you’re mad, even if you’re not mad…”

madness is a strange thing, one mans mad is another mans normal. i’m reminded of this with a couple of friends, if i think i’m out of sorts then they remind me of their reality. that humbles me and i stop fooling around.
i’m trying to write without talking about people. but people are on my mind.
it’s not fair that i write of them, they wouldn’t want their madness made public.
but everything has a bearing on everything 🙂
i think my own madness tho undiagnosed, was bubbling secretly under my shy psyche thru my growing years. check my Transport post. both my parents are manic depressives.

“Good morning the worm your honour, the crown will plainly show the prisoner, who now stands before you, was caught red handed showing feeeeeelings,
showing feelings of an almost human nature, this will not do!”
Pink Floyd’s The Wall

when i was roughly 18 i met some pretty far out people who introduced me to adulthood, not the productive hard working sort of adulthood but a kind of subculture of sorts. i gained a dog from them, who i named after a band that knew my mind more than i did. i never considered they were singing of their bandmate, i was young n naive.
not The Doors but Pink Floyd.

“…You re-arrange me til i’m sane
You lock the door
And throw away the key
There’s someone in my head but it’s not me.” pink floyd

i’d been smoking weed since i was maybe 14. it was the local drug of choice for most teenagers. i honestly believe that weed is a poor scapegoat for our social problems.
anyway, at 18, in a different town, trying to find myself, i mingled and fell into mushroom picking. that night and a few ensuing nights, 2 close friends who followed me up there and the new friends whose area it was, i guess they were truly worried for me, i knew my name but that was it, i can still remember the things i was saying, sometimes scaring them with my mystical ramblings 🙂 the films we watched, the laughs we laughed as the nighttime windows became cinema screens.
one of them was spose to be sober but apparently he lied, we had no tether keeping us grounded.

“Once I had a little game
I liked to crawl back in my brain
I think you know the game I mean
I mean the game called ‘go insane’
Now you should try this little game
Just close your eyes forget your name
Forget the world, forget the people
And we’ll erect a different steeple.
This little game is fun to do.
Just close your eyes, i’m going too.
And I’m right here, no way to lose
Release control, we’re breaking through”
The Doors

i had several nervous breakdowns over a month or so.
i don’t believe in doctors, i believe in friends, i didn’t know who krsna was back then so felt pretty godless. although i could see angels.
but not all angels are nice, i thought.
my friends n family thought they understood me, half of them thought i was on heroin as it was the norm in that town. Now that’s madness, i was introduced to heroin on my 18th birthday “cor look at your veins, so plump, let me dip a needle?” lukkily, thankfully, i said no and always have, i’ve watched too many good friends say yes.
now that’s madness.
i like toying with madness, try to recreate the magic mushroom experience with music, weed, incense etc while the kid’s at school, sometimes i come close.
the smell of a polluted mid september morning takes me back.
the sight of a cauldron similar to the one we used to cook the mushies.
Lots of lots of mushies.
plastic bags full.
Some films and songs still make my eyes water with the memory

Rush: Something for Nothing;
“In your head is the answer
Let it guide you along
Let your heart be the anchor
And the beat of your own song”

i mus admit i’m scared to ever try mushies again. that was true mindless infancy. i think i was hungover for months or years, i still glaze out if i allow myself to,
but i’m a parent these last several years, so the game is different now. there’s a time n place for everything. i can’t be selfish. the moments are still there but i use them in a different way.
weed is a crutch, it helps me to close my thoughts, or even focus.
i write with weed. MaryJane i love
i write without weed. She sings to my aching heart
Daddies little helper. Addiction aint smart

“What did you dream? It’s alright, we told you what to dream”
Pink Floyd.

“Well i’ve been down so very damn long, that it looks like up to me”
The Doors

anyway i’ve decided everyone’s mad, just that some are better at hiding it, from experience, they are the ones who crash out the hardest.
i wish i could write what i truly want but it wouldn’t be fair on others who for whatever reason, would be horrified at being ‘outed’ as important parts of a bigger picture.
you know how one thing leads to another.

Advertisements

6 thoughts on “‘King Madness”

  1. I realized I haven’t read yours in a while! I have several friends on Mary and one on shrooms. I’ve never been one to get at it because of being a mad runner. But that’s my high, that’s my escape from the world. How come they don’t lock me up or call me an addict. They definitely call me insane. How do you feel writing about your past?

    1. 🙂 Thank you for reading 🙂
      i’m not too sure how i feel yet, i nearly keep deleting the personal parts lol
      i prefer writing in rhyme. maybe it’s more universal? 🙂
      i used to love jogging n running, maybe a max of 5miles, with or without a smoke in my mouth lol wasn’t for fitness but for mental health and stamina,
      nowadaze i can run a mile in boots in ten mins if i must or three miles fairly well if i’m late 🙂
      back to writing; i wish i could collect my thoughts to make sense of something, anything, but my minds been a wanderer since before teenage days.

      1. I like to do subconscious writing. Where I write faster than I can think. For sample the apple jumped off the fucking bridge before dawn in a pond but he’s okay in Georgia feeding the dis that bite the sun into minty nine pieces of boxes that cry

        1. nice.
          i’m scared to write subconsciously, when i do it usually gets deleted or reworked.
          more of a semi thought-out auto-writer who proof reads and posts before i find the delete button 🙂
          most of the poetry i’ve posted goes back maybe 15 years, i’ve become comfy withit 🙂

Any Thoughts?

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s