I wrote to ease my anxieties. I wrote not-what-I-should. I was not procrastinating. I was contemplating. I was transcribing the madness that plagues my ticker-taped mind. I have ten pages of text for an assignment that requires but three. I am not finished. Reading and writing have been my bread and wine for the past month. The void of variety has me going slightly mad, tearing at the yellow wallpaper, which represents something I've not yet realized the significance of on this plane I am fettered to.
Faulkner whispers, "It can't matter, you know that . . . and yet it must matter. It cannot have meaning and yet it must." There is a schizophrenia within myself, for the very things which drive me mad and I claim as the catalysts of my anxieties...those are the very things I resort to when endeavoring to escape them.
Faulkner regarded too much coherence as a kind of failure. He would consider full coherence a sign of weakness and something to be avoided. He placed a higher value upon the effort to do the impossible.
I produce failure. I strive for the impossible.
This is my stream of consciousness:
Clariam
I know what you did. I don’t know what you do. I know what you done.
Again with those eyes; again with those thighs.
Swaying from side to side.
Those arms and strict-straight stride.
Deviate. Deviate. Deviate.
Jewel. My brother is not Jewel.
I am Darl.
Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes.
Is that why you’re laughing?
Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes.
Claire is a Voyeur; Voyance is Clear.
I am not Claire; I am Clairvoyance.
You hate me. I know.
I saw what you did. I saw what you do. I saw what you done.
I sawed your ventricles apart.
Personally.
You still don’t know.
No, no, no, no, no, no.
Id killed you; I did; you killed you dead.
When you tried to take me in my stead.
Touching. Touching. Feeling. Touching and feeling and breathing.
Quiet!
Words are not void.
Words are in my head. I am what I said.
Tick, tick, tict, tict, tic, ti
Quiet!
You are not.
You are not because you are not; and I am because I am.
You thought you were but you were not.
I knew you weren’t and would not stop.
You know I am because I am.
I told you I was and I am.
You want to be I am. You are not.
But I am.
Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes.
I live inside your iris.
Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes.
I know what you did. I know what you do. I know what you done.
I know.
You think you're you, but you don't know who you are; you're not you...you're everyone else.