We're All Mad Here (part 1)

A part of a larger short story.

Part one- Good morning

 

  Above the reach of the sky line, through the pillars of clouds constructed of gasoline and other fuel emissions, first light made its way across the tops of buildings, washing away the dastardly events of the previous night, delivering a fresh start. The city awoke slowly but surely and the nightpeople withdrew out of the light and into the shadows. The daypeople greeted the new begining with yawns and tired eyes. From my 7th floor apartment window I was able to see the revival of the citizens; l doors swung open simultaneously as business men marched in an orderly fashion out on to the side walk.

              I began my own mindless morning ritual without the slightest hesitation. I showered and then shaved away the specks of hair that had accumulated on my face over night. The dreary apartment that had been so "graciously" provided for me was incapable of showing my love that morning. Its peeling walls simply did not grant me the pleasure of being some what attractive. The synchronized orchestra of car horns, road rage, and store bells in the street grew louder as I prepared myself for the day ahead.

            Im not crazy Im not.

        Not anymore atleast.

       Life had not gone as planned. No planning in the world can prepare you for Life. The hopes of my parents were squelched with my tendancy to rip apart every good thing that was handed to me. Oh well. As strange as this may seem, I do not like things to be handed to me. I prefered to go out and rip it out of Life's clutches myself. That is the way my pride and stumborness have made it.

           Pride is a sin you know? The most deadly of all. I am not one to preach of bullshit Sunday School fun time talks, but I am well acquainted to the deadliness of a man's pride.

   I am not as crazy as They think I am. I am not crazy. I am not as crazy as they think I am. I am either less or significantly more. But either way I am not crazy.I am not mentally defective as They assume me to be. Thats the thing. I am not mentally defective so much as I am mentally affective. I like to see being crazy as knowing to much as opposed to as They see it; not knowing enough.

                     I knew They were watching me.

          But did They knew that I knew?

            I could feel the camera lenses closing in one me. I knew They were following me on a television screen some where. Anywhere. Everywhere. Humans are such distrusting creatures; espescially this bunch. They released me from their compound only to watch my every move; looking for an excuse to bring me back. The leather straps hungered for the taste of my wrists and ankles.

                 BUT, little did They know that I am not crazy,

Author's Note

blah im retarded. so dont eat me

Reviews

[T]

You have a few typos.

Emissions
night people
day people
beginning
Simultaneously
business
fashion
on to the
somewhat
synchronized
acquainted
That's the thing.
mentally
Did you mean, "cushy"?
Anywhere
Every move

You should check your spelling and grammatical errors, as well as writing style.

I changed three sentences for you. This is just a suggestion.

"My Life had not gone as planned. No planning in the world can prepare you for Life. I squelched the hopes of my parents' tendency to rip apart every good thing that was handed to me. "

Good story, though. I enjoyed it.

[nostal]

Some typos, but, ignoring them, this is good.

[sara]

i really like this piece...."strange as this may seem, I do not like things to be handed to me. I prefered to go out and rip it out of Life's clutches myself. That is the way my pride and stumborness have made it."
those are my favorite lines in the story cuz they ring true to me as well, i hate being handed thing i would so much rather fighting for em....i also really really like your discripion of things in the first two paragraphs i found them to be depessing but beatiful if that makes sence to u
p.s. retarted ppl hav the most flavor ;p