Could this ever work? A shaded corner of the room sends shivers up her spine, the sole purpose is to lighten the day, the tears fill her eyes as fresh lemonade in a crystal glass.

She admired the person that told her that he never involved himself with anyone as a young man, he did not see the purpose, the relationships were destined to an end anyway.

Is it that we do not see time? Or do we not want to realize our own demise?

Young, and beautiful in others eyes, she is on the break of becoming confident, perhaps even finding closure to this leap taken.

The desire not for false love stories, but the personal conquest, a meaning, an understanding.

Salvation of the soul? Or just pure wondering?

Passing by couples embraced, watching innocent laughs and giggles, gestures of fingers tangled in one and other, these small yet trivial happenings quench the soul.

Could the finding be now? Or should patience continue as nature takes its course?

The poetic shadow upon a vase, to paint, to draw, to dance, perhaps romantic fantasy.

A drawer lays unopened, memories and the typical half smile, half frown surely to appear.

Happiness equaling to love?

Or lost equaling to love?

Once happiness is found could the love be lost?

Yet, when we dance, it is like stars are the freckles of the skies.

Getting to know thy own self can be the most beautiful journey, the slight misunderstanding and disbelief that indeed no longer a child, you mold your soul.

These are the moments important, the sweet irony of how she does not realize these moments will never come again, eyes toward the imagery outside, she could be admiring the scenery, or simply in another world.

The half smile on her face says it all, perhaps content, perhaps discovery, living the moment, the perfection flows.

She is slowly falling out of loss, and sliding into her own skin.

Continuous dreams of the “blood and blow dryers” kind continue to visit her each night, attempting to eschew them, it begins almost impossible.

Her new red nail polish is quite beautiful, a mix of elegant yet youthful. 

Wondering if it can be worn with both elegant and non-elegant clothing she stops to realize, blood is red.

Yes, blood is red. 

Continuing on, she remembers a discussion she had with a friend one drunken night.

“Do you think you could ever actually kill someone?”

“I suppose if the level of rage were sufficient, I could possibly loose control and do something of this kind, but I am not sure I could actually go through with it all the way.” she answered.

Years pass, and people change.

She could dispose of the body in sections, perhaps dropping each part at random areas, or possibly even use some sort of acid burning technique.

Of course this is all hypothetical, entering the supermarket she scans the $1.49 doughnuts on sale, chemically induced pastries that surely include some type of cancer to go along with the rainbow colored sprinkles are always something someone should buy for a good price.

She walks down the “Healthy living” aisle, pathetic.

There is no healthy living around to buy, not at good price at least, so she proceeds to the make-up section, searching for a good eyeliner, black, perhaps “midnight murder black” liner.

Arrogantly grabbing the most expensive she could find, she makes her way to the register.

Her ear stings, right ear to be exact. Cause? Unknown.

Stepping in a fairly disgusting substance on the ground she passes her eyeliner to the cashier. 

Buried into the thought of possibly finding her next victim in a hardware store, she is interrupted by the latino woman awaiting the payment. 

Startled, she knocks over some sort of device sitting next to the credit card machine.

Accidentally, of course.

Hiding her smirk, she takes her change and exits, pleased.

Tonight brings new opportunity.

She did not buy the eyeliner for nothing.

Oh really? Wait while I ponder this a moment.

Just one moment.

To continue a certain subject that has been haunting me for a while, like a little voice in the back of my mind, I was asked what I want do in life, I suppose everybody gets asked this by someone at some point in their lives, and I can bet all the money I do not have that 90% of the people do not know, and that the other 10% think they do and will never end up doing it.

I have been very passionate about a couple things in my life, since the second grade I wrote in the daily journal that I want to be an actress.

As a 10 year old I was obsessed with being a lawyer, or perhaps a detective. The past couple of years have introduced me to a different passion, the human mind, writing, art.

Most people would say that means I am an interesting person, some might even declare me strange, and as usual, I will disagree with the masses and go with the simple few that declare me strange.

Even I would declare myself strange, and although I like to seem as if everyone likes me, I have major problems with people in general, and to be even more sincere, I have major problems with everything, in general, of course.

I analize things alot, I am somewhat of a perfectionist, who tends to be very lazy, and most of the time completely deviates from the subject, and not to completely contradict myself, but who the hell do we think we are?

Who the hell do I think I am?

I actually considered sitting down in a room with a person across me and telling them they are insane,crazy, or any other synonym to go with the diag-nonsense.

Who am I to tell somebody that they do not think right? Who I am to say that they should take this and that pill to be normal?

Are we all just completely insane or is this just me and my over-analyzing mind?

How dare we say that one person can be more sane than another. Are we all not just a planet filled with utterly senseless people? One more lost than the other?

Then this thought comes to mind:

“What if we are all crazy, just that some of us hide it better than others.”

Tell me that when you are enraged you could not simply kill someone, tell me this, and I will not believe it.

Never in a million years.

Because, you see, you could kill someone. Your control stops you, and depending on how much control you have, you remain calm, or you go on a killing spree.

Is it possible that the people who do not have control are the most sincere people on this planet?

Look around you and dare to tell me that everyone is not hiding behind some fluffed up mask. Dare to.

Just dare to.

I can think of ten people off the bat that are lost in their hopeless facades, never to really show their true face to anyone, forever considering themselves well controlled human beings.

To further fall into the rabbit whole, I will run the risk of declaring that the study of the human mind is possibly the most dangerous job a person could choose.

Imagine having a patient, who thinks that by cutting every piece of flesh off a person, he/she frees the persons soul of sin. Imagine going to bed at night and wondering if your so-called patient will wake you up in the middle of the night to show you his/her theory, hands-on.

What is the worlds biggest fear today?

Terrorism, yes? Nuclear War, yes? Biological War, yes?

And do not mind if I ask you, who thought of all these things that we fear the most?

Did god send them to us in a heart-shaped box? I suppose not.

I am quite content to say, that WE did create all of them.

Terrorism, Nuclear War, Biological War, everything, all us.

From the moment that Homo Habilis ate his neighbor to be able to see the light of the sun the following morning, and up until the moment when some sick prick figured out how to blow to smithereens a city in a matter of seconds, we were pure, perhaps even normal.

And now we have the courage to sit down in a leather chair that probably cost $1000, and tell someone that they are completely out of their mind?

Man is quite possibly the most complicated machine to have ever existed, and the fact that I and many other people would like to take apart its very control center makes us what?

Special? Or simply disturbed?

Alot of people say that to be able to understand crazy people, you have to be a bit crazy yourself.

Whoever said this had no logic whatsoever, imagine you have two oranges in front of you. I ask you the next question:

Which orange is more orange?

Referring to the color.

Person #1 says that the orange on the right is more orange.

Person #2 says that the orange on the left is more orange.

And person #3 says that he sees no orange, that both are apples.

Whom do we believe? Do our indoctrinated minds tell us that person #3 should be eliminated immediately?

Most likely it is our first instinct, because person #1 and #2 have something in common, person #3 is completely off subject.

Well, guess what, there were no oranges, both were apples.

Person #1 and #2 are pacients in a psychic ward in North Dakota.

So who are the crazy ones?

Us?

Because we already have an instinct that is developed completely upside down?

Or perhaps the two patients, because they do not have this instinct in them?

You tell me.

You are the human, the smart one, the rational one, the well-controlled one.

You ask what I want to do with my life?

Doctor or Patient, you take your pick.