Lamentations from the Insane Pt1

A small piece from a larger story that I am working on. Basically, insane people have feelings and insights just like the rest of us, unfortunately.

     I am insane, I think. 

     But don’t worry, I’m not insane in the kind of way where you would see me running around in the streets naked wearing nothing but an old pair of Pinky and the Brain socks and singing Christmas carols in the month of June to a woman named Carol and her twin sister, June.   By the way, both sisters were born in December.

     I’m also not the kind of crazy where you would see me naked dancing around wearing nothing but a long purple scarf with a large embroidered orange pumpkin on it, the one that I got for Flag Day, cartwheeling majestically across a football field being used to host a charity event that is raising money for the physically handicapped and mentally disabled. 

     And don’t worry, the scarf was just long enough to cover up Mr. Winky and his two elderly friends, well, mostly.  There were still some visible dangly bits, but only if you were really looking.  And unfortunately, a lot of people were.  And the police also didn’t think that it was very funny, or did the parents, or did the children, or did the two homeless gentlemen peeing by the trash can, or did the two teenage lovers playing magic fingers behind the bathroom, or did the couple using the public drinking fountain as a baby changing station, but there was one elderly lady in a yellow and white fluffy flower hat that seemed quit energetic about the entire thing. 

     But I’m getting off track, again.  Swerving slightly off the road, more accurately.  I hope there is an airbag this time because last time was quite messy, and I ended up as jumpy as a long tailed cat in a room full of rockin’ chairs. 

     Basically, what I am trying to say, somewhat horribly of course, is that none of those naked acts previously mentioned refer to the type of crazy that I am.  That’s just not me.  That’s an entirely different kind of crazy.  I’m more of a mediocre kind of cuckoo.  And, on a side note, no animals were harmed during the majestic cartwheeling referenced earlier.  Some children were emotional scared, but only the ones that were closest to the action. 

     And, on another side note, why am I always naked when I refer to my not being crazy?  And for some reason, I always seem to be dancing.  I don’t even like to dance.  Also, I don’t see or hear weird stuff.  It’s much more basic than that.  I just like to kill people.  I like how it makes me feel, both inside and out.  I’m a product of my environment.  Or, is my environment a product of me?  I always get confused about that one. 

See, I'm insane, I think.

Author's Note

It's just the mindset from a particular character that I'm working on.

Reviews

[Taylor]

Interesting perspective and the suggestion of a story line. I'm not sure whether you're working on a novel, a short story or whether this is just an exercise in developing a character, so I'm at a bit of a disadvantage in trying to review. I like the details in the piece and the perspective. My only suggestion is to shorten the sentences. I also wonder whether it might be more powerful if you lead up to "I like to kill people" with some hints that prepare the reader for that -- some weirdness maybe that he can sense people's blood flowing through their veins or see it or something to suggest a strange and detached view of others. I'll be interested in seeing what you do with this.

[Clint Robert Collins]

Thank you for your input. There was more of the story to show the characters detached views. I just kind of put in this middle piece to see what people thought.