Pierce me narcótica

I’m seen from a window high in the sky, when i dive into this scene that i live through frame by frame, each isolated, but in each i can see feel and hear any and everything, i can hear fingers plucking guitar strings, how the grease from them stick to the strings and pluck them off-tempo as fingers release pressure. I get lost in a pink haze of stage smoke while i’m hypnotized by voices and sounds. To look then into the past and remember that constantly I get the reflex of eating with my elbow up, It hit me whilst i ate something in the kitchen, it was night, and the house quiet, and i think everyone else sleeping, why this arm up, i kept eating but i saw it from the reflection at the window, as it looked back at me awkwardly, it was pathetic. The thoughts then start to race, and they’re too many, fast and fleeting then come and disappear but leave behind a sour taste, i tried to write these things later but most was lost. As these raced through my mind I tried to process everything, but words kept losing their significance to nothingness, and their meaning captured to only sound leave, this because i fell into the pitfall of trying to reduce these thoughts to the tiniest possible set of words that would encompass all the meaning there was to be had there, so as to record the most of it, but it wasn’t possible. I get these oftentimes, gargantuan pictures that enclose all of my memories and affections in adhesive tape, it’s hard to keep focus, i feel an over-stimulation of the senses and numbing of various functions, first mood, a dry grumpiness and general unwillingness to chat or interact, then the motor lethargy, speech numbing and then ceasing, then i lose grip on my senses, until lastly all there is is a speck of sight that flickers as would a dying lamp or something. Then i try to calm myself when I realize something isn’t right, I try to breath slowly, to inhale for a few seconds, then stop, then exhale and inhale trying to focus on counting these seconds, despite this my heart starts racing, and i feel increasingly anxious, for a fraction of a second weary and worried, paranoid maybe, I feel that i’m being observed and WHAT?? what was that? did it come from inside my head? I am hearing voices ? was it my thoughts? A thought screaming so loud, am I insane? After i got a grip on myself I came to record these things, I’m trying to recall something I didn’t get to hold onto but i feel it’s important. It’s a go back maybe, it feels like a voice of reason escaping from this eerie vortex of thoughts, its telling go back, back what back in or back out or what, what is this, what’s going on, i’m healed, I’m a different person now, I don’t want any of this anymore. I recorded all of these things and now it seems like wasted time, like all I produced was something of a hook to fish me in for sloppy seconds of a mind rape. maybe there was something in it worth holding on to, some memory I should never have forgotten, maybe something worth the pain it is going to fetch it. So it’s just this, all I could record, and it’s all useless and meaningless, time that I wasted, writing as fast I could with blank eyes and aching cold hands, I couldn’t save everything but what i did save feels wrong. Except something about eating with my arm up, it comes from some trauma, perhaps ATL, writing on chalkboards was the same, I feel demons ticking and fiddling with skeletal hands, puppetteering me still after all these years like the clueless muppet that I am, locked in this danse macabre. They still enthrall me from these past traumas, I saw thus far before my grip on this trance loosened and I fell into that pace of time and things that I’m accustomed to. I’m alone. And need help…