The Never Ending Quest For Sanity

CHATPER 11

Sergey woke, disbelieving the recount of what had happened. 

Did it happen or was it just a mere vivid dream that was brought on by guilt?  Either way, he didn’t think he wanted history to repeat itself, the horrendous events more than he could handle, even with his callused nature to the suffering of others.

Surely if it had happened, he would find a clue nearby to confirm such a visitor had come to him expressing the desire to take his soul from his body and make him suffer in a Hell he refused to believe existed.

He rose and made his way to the bedroom mirror in a hurried pace.  It was a very disturbing thought that this had happened and he was going to fall victim to a supernatural force that he didn’t believe existed either.  His lack of faith could have been his undoing but a stubborn mind refuses to believe the evidence, relying on their own beliefs, holding fast like it were a lifeline to save them from a disaster.

He examined his reflection and saw that there were no marks present.  He breathed a sigh of relief and chuckled to himself.

“It was just a dream, no need to panic.”  He ran his hand over his head, his hair shaggy and in need of a barber.  He would take this opportunity to make a trip to his stylist next week.  Today, he was not in the mood to venture forth, despising still the world outside.  Now that he had a companion to pass the time, he was not worried about anything that might preoccupy his mind.  He refused to divert from this and went to the living room where, seated on the sofa, he would enjoy some afternoon television.

As he positioned himself on the couch, he was completely content with his life after all and just needed one night to feel relief, though it may have been temporary.  He resolved to perhaps not smoke any more of the m*******a since the dream had been extremely disturbing. 

LItttle did he know, it was just beginning to grow in intensity and make landfall in the vast wilderness of his mind.  It was only a matter of time.

He didn’t know what was in the works when he would be the very epitome of insanity, something he despised with every fiber of his being.  In fact, it was irritating to the core of his soul.  There was no escape from the fate that was sure to be dealt to him, the timeline unclear.  However, fate was a patient force that knew no value of the hour, day or year.  It simply was put into motion at the right time, the predestination of such decided by what was unseen.

WIth the sands of the unseen hourglass draining, he was soon subjected to his own insanity that had been of his own making.  It wouldn’t be the first night he would be visited by the past lives he had taken, either directly or influenced to disappear indirectly, appearing to perish by their own hand.  He had been spared from the punishment he deserved, only slowly would they drive him beyond the point that they had been driven by the one who was keen to manipulation, a master of such a difficult art to the common person, but not the evil soul that emitted no light.

The day seemed to be like any other day, but he was still disturbed by what happened in his dream.  It had to be, after all, just that since he was free of any evidence he had sustained injuries.  It had to be just that, he was sure or did he just want to be sure?

He had ordered a pizza and waited patiently for his lunch.  He found pizza was one thing that he turned to when he had a rough day and last night was enough to make him forget the events of last night.  As he waited for his meal, a large pepperoni and sausage with extra mushrooms, he lost track of time as he watched a movie he had selected from his library of DVDs he owned.  It was a very practical thing to watch movies, something that he had turned to as well in times of personal turmoil such as this.  

After his slice of heaven arrived in the form of 8 slices, he was resolved to watch television all day with not a single care or concern in the world. It was going to be a cloudy day as well. There was talk of rain but no one quite knew how long the rain would remain, be it hours or more, but it was foretold that they were to receive a downpour this day that would possibly cause massive flooding along with the lower parts of the roads.

Minutes became half hours, from half hours came hours and soon the day was over. He was free in his thoughts of the affairs of the following day in which he would go to a place that he really did not wanna go but then again, that was dreadful thought of everybody on a Sunday when they thought about returning to work the next day, periodically, 3 day weekends offered some kind of release, yielding hope that perhaps, just perhaps, there was some sanity left in the world with no risk of dealing with a boss that was beyond difficult to deal with in somebody who, honestly, should flip burgers, mistakenly positioned at the top of the corporate ladder.

Certainly, this inconvenience was remedied and he was reminded that there was a quality of life that he lived that he loved, which he understood now more than ever as the stress rolled easily down his spine as it did on a duck in water. He often thought of his grand father in times like this, the impact he had left posthumously in the form of stories he would hear.  Sergey had a very high opinion of his grandfather, considering him far more learned than the great philosophers of the past, present, or future.

His grandfather was considered to be a madman at times due to his, at the time, Outrageous, radical and over the top way of thinking that would often frightened others that were on the receiving end of a message that offered a certain insight into life that they were not ready to hear nor agreed with.

Due to their opinion of his grand father, they found him to be clinically, terminally, and hopelessly insane. He was considered to be too revolutionary liking and Resorted to measures ensuring that he would never spread his message of madness to any one beyond the 4 walls of an asylum for the mentally deranged/mad.

His grand father took residence in such a place for the remaining 25 years of his life., was forbidden to interact with the others do to his over the top style of thinking, and was quite sure that he would corrupt as well as hinder the progress of the other patient that lived under the same roof just far away from him. It was only a bun his death that they re examined the evidence presented by the system (or at least what they perceived to be evidence) and were convinced on the day he died, which was in the month of July on the 11th day, that he was mistaken for a modern day genius as well as one that would be considered a profit that society had been too Fearful to acknowledge that he had, indeed spoke of many things that came to pass with100% accuracy which rendered than speechless when those things did come to pass.  

Sergey’s family had been very vocal against those who had put away Sergey's grandfather. They had abandoned him, offering a sacrifice to the Devil at the hands of place that was notorious for being an establishment where the damned and Hell’s rejects dwelt Under the guise of those who were sent to help when rather they were deeply satisfied with making these people that society had labeled as unfit to coexisted there perfect world and had vanished these people, condemning them to a life that often ended with several suicides and many unanswered questions. However, this would be swept under the rug all too often and nobody would question as the influence of the hospital on many others outshone the negative press that they had acquired on some of the other cases.

To put it quite simply ,those who are dead by their own hands were those who were considered to be hopeless, such a fate already predestined to them.  The stigma was unfair as well as real.

Buried in an unmarked grave he would often visit his grandfather as much as he could prior to coming to America.  His grand father had been quite the impressive yet unusual man preoccupied with habits that many found to be unhealthy and extremely dangerous but only to those who didn't understand. There was no denying that he had a special gift to him that most people did not possess in the way that he thought an active. he had many theories on the meaning of life that far surpassed the theories and ideals of those who were the learned men with many, many years of preparation at the University, and even those who had been experienced over decades would not even come close to the knowledge that he possessed.

Some of these ideals included foundation for things that people thought were better to not be thought of and Since he was considered clinically insane nobody took nor had seriously considered what he had said and were blinded for many years when those things began to happen.  Society was cursed often in public as well as in private by the surviving members of Sergey's grandfather's Bloodline which was quite extensive and included some rather influential people. in spite of this, it still was not enough2 take such claims seriously in people were convinced that things were going to be as they were at that moment with no change In doing so they ignored the only thing certain in life that was constant.  This was nothing more than one simple word, which was change.

To neglect this particular truth in life that was always evident in never a fallacy Would prove to be the downfall of many men as well as those who are convinced that such a truth was mere myth.  Perception Is the greatest asset to the fate of those who amble through life aimlessly searching for truth but sometimes they do not find it.  They then realize that they were erroneous in their actions as well as hopeless.  It is then that it is too late to rectify such things And a phrase of regret rather than farewell escapes their lips on their deathbed.

Sergei had been bequeathed his grandfather's handwritten notes upon his grandfather’s death that often outlined his views on the very essence of life as well as his thoughts on society as a whole prior to the time that he had been committed at the hands of a hopelessly closed minded society that would rather have seen a revolutionary crucified than to accept a view different than their own which was the most heinous of transgression that could have ever been dealt to anybody at that time is well as today.

Passing the time rather satisfactorily, soon ready to retire to the slumber that would refresh him, the new day met with curses as usual, per the norm on every Monday that he had to wake up.  He thought that after a while he would become accustomed to that he would have to rise one day early and work for his lot in life.  He had desired this from the was able to understand what it took to live in a world that he often did not want to live in at all.  The allure the large houses that he had seen daily as went went to his institution of higher learning he was forced to attend, recalling that it felt more like a prison and then a place that prepared you for the future, equipping the lemmings with no free thought with the skills to survive that they thought were most important, even thinking this far surpassed what you were taught at home.  In his opinion. family values were far superior and often disagreed with those that were entrusted to shape the minds of the youth, sending them into a world that was nothing they had portrayed the entire time that the young, impressionable minds had been led to believe.  Awakening was often followed by curses toward an institution that had such an influence on the minds of the young, the grievances of those who had endured such knowledge Ignored when they would declare the truth and ultimately were dismissed as a product of one who had not conformed or heard what was necessary, there for missing the mark completely.

The attitude society took in this case was no different from the attitude they took with his grandfather who had actually been a very brilliant man that was genius in his IQ status. The radical ideals expressed by him were simply things that they were not ready to hear nor wanted to believe work possible here.

He was soon ready to retire for the night in hopes that the next day would be better than what it had been today and that also his dreams would not be plagued with unpleasantries or despair.  He felt hopeless in the face of nightmares, quite often deeply disturbed by the terrifying visions.

As he checked the house one last time as was his usual routine, he turned out the lights and crawled into bed,,the sensation of being covered with bed sheets as well as his heavy blanket always a comfort at the end of the day.  He, like many others in his profession, did suffer from anxiety.  He often found that this was his most effective coping mechanism that he had in dealing with such feelings that we set him in his mind, disturbing him quite often.

As he lay back on the pillow, he cleared his mind and would slumber peacefully this night uninterrupted.