A Ring-Shot I just wrote on the subject of those little mind-things you're supposed to keep to yourself.
Instability
There are times that he can feel himself…slipping.
/
Wake up.
Walk downtown
Find some action
Beat someone
Eat some cake
Drink some beer
Find a party
Find a broad
Swear yourself down
Don't think just talk
Lie if you have to
Lie if you can
Grin empty at your friends.
/
There's reality…and then there's…
Some days he feels himself slipping.
He doesn't know what triggers it. He got in a cuss battle with Buck once…it got good and offensive and dirty—then…his eyes glazed and he thought a minute and…
/
Wake up
Grab your blade
Find some action
If it sounds like bad things are coming
Kill it
/
He feels his life in a stop motion picture.
Sometimes he wants to scream and he can't lift his lips from his cigarette. Sometimes he wants to scream and he can't lift his lips from the girl next to him. Sometimes he wants to scream and he can't lift his lips from the concrete he's been shoved to by a pretty-boy soc.
Sometimes his eyes are cold and blue and he wishes he could melt them. Sometimes they feel like ice in his brain. Icing his thoughts. Freezing his feelings. Coating his mind with snow. Maybe that's why he doesn't care anymore.
He disconnects sometimes. You'll catch him staring at nothing and you'll ask him what he's doing and he'll grunt inaudibly and you'll never know it's because at that moment he knows nothing of the world.
It's blank and full of potential and very mysterious and very easy to stay in.
Sometimes he wants to kill something or himself or someone for no good reason at all. Other times, he thinks he appreciates life. But he never thinks for long anymore.
At least he knows that he's slipping. At least he's aware his mind is dissolving.
He comes back around soon. It's never for long. It doesn't scare him. He holds his sanity with a loose hand. He knows all good things must come to an end.
He has a question for you that he could never actually ask.
Have you ever felt yourself…slipping?