They scream at each other, voices rising to a deafening level, echoes of pain and sound reverberating in my skull.
Shut up SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP
The arguments last hours, seconds, minutes, ending in pain, or longing, or sometimes not ending at all, a fading of voices into the distance. They sound like people I know, but they aren’t.
It’s only me.
The echoes of their yelling reverberate into thrumming headaches, which often bring respite, however long it may last. The pain is bittersweet, its reward a rough solitude, a sense of reality, time bought to convince myself that this isn’t real. For that knowledge is the shield which protects me. If they aren’t real, then they must be my own creation. A sort of sick fantasy. You can end fantasies.
Sometimes it’s just hard to remember the reality right?
Shut up SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP
They do listen sometimes. When you yell at them, they echo in their empty mimics, and they then they go.
That’s the important thing. At least they listen. They listen when we yell
Shut up SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP
But they’re not all entirely bad. At least, not all entirely hateful. They do compliment me sometimes. Or is that just me? Of course it is, they all are me, right?. We are all myself.
So why do I have to tell them to shut up? Why must I yell at myself? Why do we hate us so? Why do we love ourselves so? Why do we hate that we hate ourselves, and that we love us so much?
Why is there so much noise, so many feelings at once?
Shut up SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP
Please shut up.
Sometimes there’re not there. I feel lonely, and peaceful, and happy at the same time. Or is that them? Are they just glad because I left? Why are there still so many feelings?
Some people help, clearing them away by just being there, letting the world make sense again. Like a bright lantern in a dark room, they let me finally make sense of my surrounding, make me feel real again.
And then there are others. They bring you back into the darkness, kicking and screaming. We hate it, but secretly, some of us are glad. They prey on my weakness, taking words, comments, conversations, and turn them into a cruel satire of our existence, twisting everything into dark lies, reshaping feelings. They taunt me for hearing them, for letting me bother myself. Why do you hate yourself so? Why do you do it so creatively? But its all in my head, it me, it’s my fault for having these disgusting parodies of people in my head, so I have to tell them to
Shut up SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP
And they’ll go away. They have to. I have to, because it’s me to. Isn’t it? We don’t always know. But it seems that way. I’m just one of them, aren’t I? It doesn’t really matter who made who, we’re all the same. All the same, so doesn’t that mean we all created each other? We’re all one. I am us. But doesn’t that mean
I can stop them. Why do they not go away?
It’s all in your head. Stop. Breathe. But they continue. They echo my words, lacing them with meaning, mocking me at every turn. They don’t rest. I don’t rest, because I’m one of them. We are all me.
Until they Shut up SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP
But I don’t think they will. Unless I do. And I can’t do that. I can’ t. They mock me, prod me, but I cannot. I will not let those people the masks mock, the real people, suffer like that.
What if they follow me? Aren’t they a part of me? Since we are the same? If I continue to exist, so wouldn’t they.
Why do I do this? Why do I make these voices? Why do they argue so much, shouting, screaming, insulting, and ripping at each other? Why can we not exist as we should?
Who am I? Am I one of them, like they tell me, I’m just another sick person, floating around, lying to everyone, convincing everything around me that somehow, I exist? Because that’s the biggest lie. If I’m one of them, I cannot exist. We do not exist. There is no we. They are made up. They cannot exist.
Shut up SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP
SHUT UP SHUT UP
So why do they yell so loud?
Are they yelling at me? Why do they want me to be quiet, why can’t they just leave me alone. I want to exist, don’t they understand? Why do they not want me to be around, why is everything them same, even in
my head? No one seems to want me around.
SHUT UP SHUT UP
SHUT UP SHUT UP
She wants me around. So do all the others. When things went bad, they were there. They cared, and helped.
We help them back. She loves me, she does. I am a good person. I help others, and they know I’m there for them.
SHUT UP SHUT UP
Yeah, they do want me around. Of course they do. Who wouldn’t, we look good. And we’re smart, and help everybody out. I can go anywhere with this.
SHUT UP
What the hell do you think you’re talking about, you vain, self righteous prick. You’re smarter than a couple of people way out in some tiny hick town! Whoop-de-doo! You hang around all the weird kids, of course they like you sometimes, they can see their own kind. And they didn’t help you because they care anyways. That was pity, you fool. And what do you ever really do to help, huh? Besides, no one ever asked
you to.
SHUT UP
Stop that. It’s okay. Everything’s all right. They don’t exist. It’s just us being a little negative, that’s all. It’s nothing unusual. Just a little stress. You stress too much. Just relax, it’ll be okay. Just be quiet, just let it all fade, it’s all right. They don’t exist. You do. This is real.
You’re real.
We promise.