Insanity Poetry Novels & Stories

"The contradictory nature of your statements and the blunt declaration that you are just there." "I am insane, Perer." "We all are insane in our own way to be honest but, sometimes, the thin line between madness and insanity is creativity." "True!" Uncle Max intoned. "Creativity!"

“Exactly. We need different. Have you ever heard what the definition of insanity is?” He shrugged. “Crazy. Insane.” I smiled, slowly shaking my head. “Technically, that might be true, but Albert Einstein had a different definition. He said, the definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results. Living in Minnesota was our insanity. You were going to school; I was going to work. We kept doing what we had always done and neither of us was getting any happier. Neither of us was truly moving on from losing your mother.”

His sinistic hungry gaze bored deeper into her afraid hazel ones as he leaned his face closer to her and finally her existence froze hearing his those words. "I am an insane sinner and I will ruin my Heaven with my insanity, "

“Shouldn’t you be happy, Timtim? Now you’ll get my full attention. Every day.” “That’s not funny,” she snapped. “I’m not joking.” He stepped closer, lowering his face until they were nearly nose to nose. “You’re reckless. Immature. And I’ve let you run wild for too long. Consider this your leash, officially tightened.” “You’re insane.” “And you,” he breathed, his voice turning gravelly, “are mine to keep in line.” Timtim was stunned by his words.. is he insane what does he mean by that ? --- --- Later that evening, back at home, she found her bedroom window open.

I am about to go completely, utterly crazy. The whispers crescendo into a symphony of madness, and I fall to my knees in the shifting mist, my mind fragmenting under the assault of alien voices that promise such sweet oblivion. My hands shake as I clutch at my head, trying to hold the pieces of my consciousness together through sheer force of will. Just when I think I cannot endure another moment of this psychological torture, when the last threads of my sanity are about to snap completely, a figure appears in the swirling chaos around me.

Beads of sweat fell from the square-jawed man's chin. The sound of his breath raced fast, white vapor scattered from his open mouth. His broad palm gripped the cold iron wheel tightly, forcing it to keep turning. Moving the wheels that replaced his legs to bring him closer to the source of his anxiety and madness. Like insects craving fire. He squeezed his wheelchair to speed as fast as possible on the deserted uphill road. Breaking through the white mist wrapped in midnight darkness without hesitation, restlessness had blinded his sanity, urging him to rampage through streets unknown to his wheels.

but my very spirit endlessly perverted by speculation concerning whatever delirious dance this upstart pretender and I are enacting upon the stage? I'm panting like a winded cur by the climax of this maddening self-interrogation. Every pulse pounding with the seething refusal to let this ridiculously inflated farce go any further. To allow my transcendent destiny among legends to remain forever toxified by a poisonous infatuation for my sworn enemy.

All suffering originates from craving, from attachment, from desire. —Edgar Allan poe DARIUS Some presences choke you like smoke, but hers,hers lit me on fire. And I hadn’t burned in years. “Again,” I yelled at the men sprinting across the field. Their strides had slowed, a clear contrast of the burst of energy they started with. I pushed them harder than usual, not out of discipline, but because I needed the noise to drown out the chaos in my chest.

she started dressing my wound I didn't said anything after that I went back to my room but her words are still rotating in my head why no one till today said to me iam wrong is it because they are scared of me am I really beast but who cares what iam how iam and why iam like this did anyone cared about me till today did anyone cared how iam being till today no one cared but everyone judges me why what did I do can anyone say why iam like this all I want to do right now is cry and scream and let it all out because its killing me inside ""the night turns into the day the day then turns to night but my life never turns to bright from darkness there is not a single thing to do everything looks o

But I'm happy that I have come out of it successfully. Inaya: I was an insomniac too. Any specific reason for insomnia? Mr Stranger: My life is fucked up. I yawned, covering my mouth with my hand. I'm feeling sleepy. Inaya: Everybody's life is fucked up. Mr Stranger: You don't know what I'm going through.