Madabaladun

TW: This is meant to be Lovecraftian Horror. It describes a very unwell state of mind along with the vague elution to drug use/misuse and is written to be disturbing.

November 1st

If I am honest, there is no starting point that truly began the madness I have seen. Every fiber of my being denies the terrible need to record the events that have taken place, and yet my sanity begs for a fragment of reality to confirm the horror that will forever haunt my memory and mind. No one should know, and yet if not, then my torment is but doubled in abandoned and forsaken aloneness. If I am to spend damned existence in hellish madness than at least let me drag one soul with me to appease the devil. This is why I write: to explain the unexplainable of the inescapable madness my mortal eyes have seen. Madness, Madness, MADNESS! I have no other word for it. It is an endless drumming of a flute's whistle in my chest. It is the color of silence upon my tongue. Madness it is, pure and utter nonsense liquifying and slithering beneath my flesh. Constant, unending chaos of the un-logical licking my sanity as if it were candy. But why, WHY does this plague me so? What forbidden relic did I uncover to bring such a curse upon my waking existence? If only I could describe it now, but I can't. These damn goats are in my bones! I feel their whispers curling up my leg! LET ME BE!

November 3rd

I now attempt again to explain the curse that has been placed on me. I cannot describe what afflicts me now, for to even write affliction deepens my awareness of it. Blessed drugs are numbing enough to still the madness so I can form words together. I did nothing to upset the balance of the world. Please believe me. I am an innocent simply with the luck of a fool. I was normal, I was fine before... nevermind don't think. Don't dwell. Be in the past, only the past is where I can live now. I had an apartment on the northside of a city. I can't remember which city. Could have been Paris, or London. Maybe Moscow or Cairo. It might have been New York, but it matters not for the location meant nothing. I had been researching the Old Ones. I'm not an archeologist. I'm not a journalist. I am not even a lawyer! I had heard bits and pieces of tales of beings incomprehensible. Incomprehensible like madness. No, no, no. Don't think, don't think, DON'T THINK! Madness, Madness, Madness. All is Madness! I shouldn't think. I mustn't tell! But I have to, I have to know. Madness! I was in London. Sure! London, why the hell not?! Reading books on things best left unknown. Stories is all there is on them, things un-want-able. Maddening creatures ancient and beyond reason. Reason, reason, reason...I lost that so very long ago. I was in London, I swear it. There was a library. An Old Library. Ancient and full of tomes. Some made sense to me through the nonsense of the writers. Stories of things named Dagon, Cthulhu, Azathoth and other jumbles of letters that make no sense. Nothing absurd happened. I simply read books and books and stories and stories. Before the madness. DAMN THE MADNESS! I need a drink, I need drunkenness to save me from this chaotic nothingness! Why does it scream? Why is it silent? Why do the waves of cold scald me like flame? Why is my fever turning the tips of my finger's blue? Why, why, WHY?!

November 7th

I haven't written the year in these. Why haven't I the year? I swear it's been days, but who knows? Who knows? The goats left and in turn the chirping of corpses replaced them. They are so quiet that I can hear my blood flow and my heart sings my blood through my veins. I can think more clearly than I have in weeks, months, years even. Far better than the day I spent screaming of penguins with knives and nothing more. Now I must tell my tale again. London and books, but nothing of it. And by the end of the month I was lying down to sleep. Tossing and turning unable to sleep until at last I felt the need, like any human, to sit up and revaluate my sleeping. And I awoke to a dream, a lucid dream. My bed and I were on a floating cliff edge adrift in a white horizon. A pocket watch floated past me with letters instead of numbers. It went tock-tick instead of tick-tock. I looked to my right and there sat a monkey with the face of tiger and the voice of a cricket. It's eyes were like a fly's and it cocked it's head at the sight of me. It took me by surprise and so I said "what the devil are you?" It opened it's mouth to reveal mandibles that folded in on themselves and three rows of teeth in circles. A sound came out of it like blaring trumpets of children's laughs. Like the thunderous roar of a rat's squeak. The word felt like Madabaladun, and it smelled like decaying fruit. The creature then shed it's skin like a snake and scampering away into a blazing star leaving behind a bloody trail that floated in a lack of gravity. Madabaladun like a vibrant array of sadness and a pungent taste of apathy. Out of the corner of my eye I saw it's eye. It pulsed like planet rings around a dead sun. The iris like crashing waves of a bonfire. The pupil like the deepest abyss of Tartarus within Tartarus within Hades within Helheim within eternal shadow. I felt a breath like the four winds and I saw before me visions of things that made no sense. Nonsense and Madness. Like a child birthing a child that birthed a child. Arms splitting into tentacles splitting into eyes. I could smell the colors and taste the sounds. No sense and nothingness and Madness.

November 12th

I never woke up from that dream. I awoke in my bed and I have yet to sleep again. If only I could sleep, perhaps there would be relief there. But there is none. I mean that there is no sleep. My mind refuses to abandon this world for a moment and my body denies it's exhaustion. I hardly blink, hardly breathe. It is as if I have the fullest ability I could ever have. I see all, hear all, feel all. And in that fullness I am petrified in possibility. By the week's end I will be dead from the heightened state I have entered into. I have reached Nirvana, but the peace is knowing I will be dead and my existence will come to an end rather than the state I have reached. Ah. If this is truth then there is no need to write of the that which brought me this curse. The fool of a therapist was right! Writing has brought me peace. There is at least peace in death!

November 31st

Morpheus is my friend, he helps me think. Blessed Morpheein and us. Though I only have mere moments of sanity. I dare not leave my house. Morpheus! Morpheus come back!

November 32nd

Orpheus my boy, you should never look back. She is there all along, but don't you look back at her or she'll never be there again. Like me and sanity! She's there at the back of my mind, but I shouldn't look. She might leave if I look for her.

Noremember 34th

Madness and Monkeys. Madness and Monkeys. Madness and Monkeys. Nonsense and No Sense. Nothing and Everything. Madness and Monkeys. Madness and Monkeys. Monthing and Madthing. Nonsense and No Sense. Nothing and Monkey. Monkness and Madkeys. Madness and Monkeys. Badness and Funky. Madness and Monkeys. Non-ness and No Keys. Nonsense and No Sense. Nothing and Not A Thing. Nonsense and No Sense. NoEvery and Thingthing. Nonsense and No Sense. Nothing and No Thing. Nonsense and No Sense. Penguins and Monkeys.

Are you my mother? Nowhere and now here. Where is Mother? Allthing and nothing.

No!

No!

Not the Penguins! They brought whips with them this time!

Someone save me from the bloody Penguins!

November November the 5th of November

Is he here? Here he is! He is here. Is he here? Here he is! He is here. Is he here? Here he is! He is here. Is he here? Here he is! He is here. Madabaladun mum, mammum mammoth my mouth me mo mum

Where is Mum?

November SCREW IT ALL!

I will not explain what I have done to myself for this brief spot of sanity. I have very little time. Don't read the lore. Seek not the Old Ones. I had a glimpse. Merely a glimpse. Merely a glimpse. Don't read the lore. I fear it's too late. My own work must not be read. No it mustn't be read! If you read these words then it is too late. My work has become an addition to the forbidden kind!

Madabaladun Madabaladun Madabaladun.

Run when you hear the drums!

I'm sorry, It's too late!

Flee when you smell the sounds!

Close your eyes! Close your eyes! Close your eyes!

It can't see through the eyes that are shut!

Don't read the lore!

It's too late!

Madabaladun Madabaladun Madabaladun.

It's too much! too much!

This is the end.

Never read the lore!

Drums Drums Drums

Burn the work!

Burn it all!

Nonsense and No Sense!

Read it NEVERMORE!