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Nature of The Obsessed

It's like your brain is persistently fighting over it being rational and irrational, but with only one winner.

By Mario CastelliPublished 6 years ago 2 min read
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Agony was at its worst and truly within the slandering clutches of Satan and all other oppressions, far from progression and stimulation of sight. Instead, a dark tunnel grows darker and darker as you burrow through, trimming all hope of light and a selfless hand to pull you out from the void. "Do it… do it, I say! You are weak; I feed on your fear and your scrumptious dismay."

"No! Leave me alone, please. I beg of you. What more could I do? What more can I think of that will allow for you to finally let me be?" A vice-like grip squeezes my soul and withdraws to shadow; lackey taking control, leaving nothing but repugnant thoughts.

Finally, he left. I feel liberated and in control of myself after years! Though, he'll come back — he always does. "I hope you've enjoyed the assault upon your brain. Now I shall break you anew," the voice declared. "Hearing you suffer from your thoughts is music to my ears. Feeling your anxiety grow is a splurge worth waiting for."

Tears of anxiousness and shame run down my cheeks, yearning for that voice to finally check out. Your stay is unwelcome. “This 'Obsessiveness' has gone on for far too long and you will not prevail any longer. Your host is fed-up with your freeloading and pollution.”

“I have grown since ye first plagued me. I have matured since ye introduced thyself when first I was timid, fearful. The tireless ‘Compulsions,' the inner voice grows strong, and yet he does not own me. This act of defiance bellows deep inside my very core."

"Fool!" the voiced roared. "Your life is left with 'Disorder' don't you see? The suffering you endure is the pain everybody left in negligence feels."

"Satan, ye and thy minions have lost many generations ago, have you no notice?" "Foolish boy, I own your mind; a thought refuses to appear unless I permit. Your very muscles anticipate my speech to flex and I-"

"No! Michael has slewed thee for countless ages and presented me with a sword of my own; knowing when thee return I shall slay as he did before me."

"Bah. You are no Angel and not Christ. I hold the ticking clock of time; as you regularly feel its weight."

“But I am a child of God! Your victory was short-lived."

"No! I swear I will take thee, tempt thee, and haunt thy thoughts until your time.”

"You will not. I have power beyond my words!"

The sword is mighty in battle; She slays her demons, though. The pen is far mightier than the sword.

disorder
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About the Creator

Mario Castelli

Merely a writer that sees the world through a lens of both logic and abstraction, that enjoys thinking deeper and learning of things shrouded in mystery and advocating for the silent.

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