The Mind of "M" by M.J. Garrett (good story books to read .txt) 📕

make your eyes stop glistening.
Please, you have to hear me…
These voices are too loud, and I can’t control the ending!
I just want you to know that this isn’t the real me!
This is the shell of the man…his delusional mastery
I feel this demon taking over my senses
“FUCKING RUN….I CAN’T CONTROL THE FUCKING ENDING!!”

SO NOW YOU WANT TO LISTEN?
I GAVE YOU EVERY CHANCE…CAN YOU FUCKING HEAR ME?
I KNOW WHERE YOU ARE…HIDE IF YOU WANT!
CAN YOU HEAR THE VOICES IN MY HEAD, IF YOU DIE…THEY STOP!
I DIDN’T WANT THIS…YOU DIDN’T HEED MY WARNING
I HAVE TO MAKE THEM STOP…THEY ARE CONTINUOUSLY SWARMING
I CAN HEAR YOU BREATHING…I SMELL YOUR SKIN IN THE AIR
THE BLOOD OF THE ACCUSED IS WHAT CARRIES ME THERE
SMILE AND KNOW THAT I DO THIS FOR ME….FOR ME!!!!!!!!
THE LAST SELFLESS ACT…PERFORMED SO SELFISHLY!!!!!!!


King of Kings, Lord of Lords?

What has God done for you lately?
You pray everyday and you still think the world hates you?
I’m almost sure that the world don’t care
Pray out loud…see if anyone hears.
Do me the favor and keep your beliefs to yourself
I’ve read your bible…I’ve even read theirs
All I see is philosophy not worth keeping
“Turn the other cheek....” yeah, then spread’m for the reaping
You might put on the front that you are so holy
What secrets do you hide? You wear a pedophile’s clothing?
Maybe porn has you wrapped around it’s finger
You’ll still preach that porn is wrong and I’m in danger?
While at home you may find the wrong in your child
But you’ll forgive everyone for worse then black your kid’s eye
“It’s wrong to be gay…you’ll go to hell for it!”
On the same page it says ”raw meat is wrong”…don’t explore it!
But pick and choose…you’ll eat rare steak all day
But you’ll crucify a man…for being happy to be gay?
Let me ask you again…this time, be honest
What the fuck has God done to make you so honored…
To serve, to die, maybe even kill?
The creator of the heavens…did he give you your pills?
Did he give you your car…or did you work your ass off?
Did he house your kids…pay your bills, maybe turn your lights on?
Give yourself the credit you think he deserves
The last time I saw god…I had to pay to serve!


Possessed

I find it difficult to describe the feelings that seem to overwhelm me. It’s hard to put into words. I could use excited, but then again ‘stoked’ seems to be a better choice. I’d use angry if it could encompass the full capacity of hatred and loathing. I’d use scared if there was a single word that would mean ‘so fucking scared that I cried and still looked like a fucking hero’. I wish there was a word for happy that could grasp the meaning of ‘so overjoyed that you turned around slapped someone and then they cried tears of joy while emptying their life savings into your offshore bank account’, but I haven’t found it. I haven’t found those profound words that fully educate you on what I’m feeling. I’ve found metaphors that help…but nothing that really just blatantly allows you into my realm of emotions so that you fully understand my feelings. With that in mind…I figured I would write something that could give you an idea of what I go through to let you in to my world.

I wake up to see that the clock hasn’t turned
It’s 4 in the morning and I’m so pissed at the world
I want to scream so loud that the neighbors wake up
Like my girlfriend would if my wife felt her up
I look at my empty wall and it really pisses me off
I want to put my fist through it while holding my clock
I want to turn the lights on and piss everyone off
I want to yell in your face until it peels your Oxy Clean off
I want to kick down my door until it blast off the hinges
I want to pick the door up and toss it out the window
I want to turn my radio on and breath in Manson
Let out the scream of demons and hope you pay the ransom
I want to run outside in the streets and rip this shirt off
Flex like a monster, let these veins pop off
I want to kick in the window of my neighbors civic
Grab my R6, let the tires scream as it reeks havoc
Call the cops you fucking pussy’s, I am the fucking law
I turned in the work, they gave me a badge to show off
I want to slap the first bitch that raises her fucking voice
Watch your man shrink as I father his boy
I’ll take all you got and I’ll ask for more
I’ll treat him like the bitch and I’ll treat his wife like a whore
Gather around and see what a spectacle I’ve become
Do you feel the raw emotion or are you just that fucking dumb
Shoot me please…it’s the only way to escape
2 to the chest and 1 to the fucking face
I can’t control this rage that flows through my veins
My heart pounds so fast…my chest is in pain
Watch me and see what you have to become
My eyes roll back as my skin goes numb
My fists clinch so hard that my nails pierce my palm
My head kicks back as I start to swallow my tongue
I drop to my knees as you watch in amazement
I pull a gun out and I paint the fucking pavement


Apologetic

If all you got is your history, what will we know about you?
Ask yourself the same question and see what I do
I’ll let you deep into my mind and see if you come out
It’s a deep dark hole with no exit insight
You see my earliest memories still make me faint
I was told my dad died from suicide…after he sniffed paint
I can’t remember, I also heard he was killed by a train
Robert Walton showed up and he took over the reign
Oh the pain he caused, I could go on for hours
Did you know he likes little boys to help him in the shower?
I bet you didn’t know that he stabbed my brother’s foot
With the handle of a brush while my brother brushed his teeth
He used to trip out on drugs and then beat us black and blue
I was only 3 when broke my leg in two
They say most boys grow to resemble their past
Do I hide these tendencies behind the eyes of my mask?

I was an introvert as a youngin’ scared to show my feelings
I was told “don’t cry” but I couldn’t hold the meaning
As we moved from town to town…no one understood
Why I cried so fucking much and why I was so good
I never did anything bad…but I was beat none the less
You think I would learn that the bad kids get the best
But I stayed true to myself all the way through my youth
When it came to girls I never did what I wanted to do
I treated them like queens from the very beginning
Becoming what most consider the perfect gentleman
I think the one thing that I really fucked up
I put too much pressure on these girls to help fix me up
I want to apologize to you all right now
I’m sorry Michelle, Misty, Ashlea, Sean,
Mendi, Anna, Jennifer, Lindsay
Natalie, Melissa, Jamie, Justine and Christina
I should’ve never put the hope in you that I did
I treated you all wrong even if we were just friends

Now I’m all grown up!
30 years old and still fucked up!
I sometimes search for my youth’s innocence
I feel the world owes me from all the shit I missed
I search for someone to understand my stance
I’ve found some…but when it comes down they can’t
Anne has become one of my only pillars
Steadfast through the shit and she never left me among the killers
Many have tried and almost all of them have failed
I don’t want your sympathy I want your help to impale
I want you to feel the pain that I feel
I want you to know the hell that I’ve been dealt
Not so you judge me, but so you understand me
I don’t see the positive, I embrace the negative
Do you really know what it’s like to be cheated?
No childhood, no love, no life, just these feelings…
I hide behind my eyes and smile
Can you really help…you don’t give a shit at this time
I’m sure you feel I deserve what I get
My story makes yours seem so blessed


Liar, Liar...

Who am I? Who…am…I? Hmmm, I’d have to say that I am first and foremost a dreamer. I believe in romantic comedy, although I am living a depressing melodramatic silent film. I believe in love…just not for me. I believe in heroes, I just haven’t met one. I believe in green pastures and beautiful forest surrounding a comforting brook covered by cobblestone bridges…but I’m too afraid to leave my house to see if they are really there. So…what do I do? Who am I?

I am Patrick J. Freeman. I am the son of Walter and Alisa Freeman. Although I’ve never met my parents, I know that they are proud of me. I wear my Irish roots like a badge of honor. I listen to bagpipe music and I drink…a lot. I find comfort in the smell of Irish whiskey and I live my life by the code of my ancestors. I am an easy man to talk to. I don’t pass judgment on first acquaintance and I definitely don’t kiss on the first date.

Actually, my name isn’t Patrick J. Freeman. I am not a drinker or a fan of Irish whiskey…to be quite “honest”, the smell of alcohol makes me vomit. I am not Irish. I do like bagpipe music…okay that’s not true….I hate bagpipes. I have no code to live by and I’ll spread my disease willingly on a first date! Why? Because I hate you. I hate everything about you. I hate that you drive a better car than me. I hate that you have a smile on your face every time I see you. I hate that you don’t have a worry or the fact that you hide it well. I hate that your wife is amazingly beautiful…and you treat her like shit. I hate that your yard is covered with bright green grass and you don’t even water it…yet my lawn is dying and covered in dog shit…and I don’t have a dog!

Okay, Okay…I don’t hate you. I envy you. I envy every single thing about you. I love how your car is always clean. I think it’s so cool that you always pick up the paper at the end of my driveway and you put it on my porch. Who does that? You…that’s who! You are the perfect neighbor and friend. By the way, your wife is hot!! I love that she walks around barefooted and waves at me every time I mow my yard.