What did Cacodemomania inspire?
noun; meaning "Belief that one is inhabited by an evil spirit.”
Noël
Coleman
It was
a dark and stormy night. They would have told you it was not.
That it had been Unseasonably Warm For The Past Week, and Not
A Cloud Had Passed By The Sky. But, as usual, they were terribly, horribly wrong and knew not a thing.
Well, of course, they would claim to know. That’s what people in white coats do. They poke and prod and postulate on
facts. They say things like I Read So-And-So In A Study Last Week
or Did You See The Report On Last Night’s News? But those are bland, coverall statements any
soul could make. If that soul chose to
have eyes and an internet connection and a disregard for facts like one’s own experience.
I do not disregard such things.
I look and look and look away from
the things they say are
important. [For those are not usually
things to be considered of import and most always, certainly, definitely
false] Instead, I look and look and look
around me. I see the facts written in the sky and the grass and the [occasional]
Ouija board, and the people who look back and stare and run.
Like today. They say It’s Not Storming, Not At All, Do Not Look At The Sky,
There Is Not A Storm There, Only Sun.
Yet, I have been pushed out into the world and am wet. Wet, you say?
Wet. I say it. And do you know why I am Wet? Because it is a dark and stormy night. But don’t tell them such things. Such facts
might burn the very soul out of them. Wouldn’t want that, no, we wouldn’t.
They
have all these big, l o
n g words.
But none of them are [right].
None of them catch on the accuracy of what is inside. Words are just
nomenclature for the things they
claim Do Not Exist.
But I have words too.
And my words can be l o
n g e r and bigger, if only they’d listen. My words say things about faith and demons
and skies that look clear but are really quite full. My words speak of the things said to be Not Really There, All In Your Head, Take This Pill. See Blue Skies, Blue Skies
Smilingatmenothingbutblueskiesdoi-
But there are no blue skies. They
give you (little
blue pills) in white paper cups. They
whisper about things you’re supposed to see while you sit outside and wonder why do I feel raindrops.
Drip.
Drip.
Dripping.
It’s because there are no clear
skies. There is not sun and no
blue. Only grey and clouds and things
that hideunderbeds and grabatyourankles and pullyoudownintothenight where there’s
a blue that might be blue but might be black and it doesn’t really matter
because eventually everything is red Red R E D .
Until it’s not.
Until it’s dark and they’ve pulled
you back inside and gave you more pills [a different blue, and bigger]. And you’re trying to TELL them but they
won’t listen.
IT’S IN ME. IT’S IN ME.
But it’s easier to look away and Talk
About What The Books Say, or How That Guy From That Show Had That Family Member
And They Said The Same Thing but all better now, all better now, all –
It’s all cacodemomania. And it goes on and on and down and
takethesepills don’twatchthosemovies don’treadthosebooks. Feeding into the paranoia and the paranormal
hallucinations of hoping for the supernatural to impose on this style of going mad with boredom.
They say:
Blue pill, Blue pill,
They
say:
Blue skies. B l u e
S
k i e s .
But I Know.