I am friends with the monsters inside of me. I tell them things they don’t necessarily comprehend but I feel safe. Every morning I water them as if I am growing them inside my womb, sing songs and in return, they salvage me. their diabolical armor protects me, picks me up when I trip, let in a stench of jealousy when I am overjoyed or slips in a bit of a sadist smile when I don’t take care of them. They are in homeostasis with my outer self and that’s what keeps me guarded.

You tell me you don’t feel safe. Well, how could you? You pry and spy through your glass window, put on home security cameras in every corner and yet someone could just easily slit your throat in a blink of an eye. you are in a conflict with your inner self. You dodge their voices and throw stones at them. The only music you hear is their screaming – at high pitch. Socializing is always a bit of a too much for you feel threatened, so you back off. But you can’t totally stay off a fight, can you? Your heart and mind duel over an invisible and ceaseless energy and eventually you find yourself in a feedback loop from hell. So, you entertain this madness until you put your life at stake with no options to get out of it. The glass carafe that you’ve kept over the refrigerator, explodes. Your penchant for a peaceful and safer life gets constricted and thus, the denouement.

All this while, you asked for help. You said you’re not safe. but tell me, who were you at war with? The monsters outside or the monsters inside?