Describe a landscape in such a way that it might help to explain the behavior of the people who live there.


"White Insanity"

I think the only reason why I don't go insane myself is because at some point I get to leave. These people don't though – they don't really have any choice in the matter. For their home, their "safe haven" is an insane asylum. Each person has their own story, their own reasons for ending up in here (even if they sometimes get the recollection of it confused), but one thing is for certain, they would have never chosen to live here.

With the asylum's bright, white walls which lack any kind of decoration, there's no comfort that makes these walls or their rooms feel like home. They don't get to come home from work to the aroma of dinner cooking on the stove. They don't get to add little trinkets around the house that remind them "this is me, this is who I am" whenever they feel lost. They are lacking all the reminders of themselves that I myself take for granted when I get to go home.

Instead all there is around them is white upon white, a mattress and a tile floor that once again is white too. Maybe the creators of this asylum thought the lightness would keep their spirits up and give them hope. But like the sun, if they stare too long at it, they can go blind. I think a lot of these people, if not all, have indeed gone blind.

Never mind the fact that when I get to go home from working here, I see the people I love. My husband embraces me and kisses me, my children jump up into my arms, and my dog, well, he waits for me to give him a treat. But mainly, I come home to love. All these people are surrounded by is anything but love. There's fear when another begins to scream for apparently no reason. There's chronic laughter when they spill something onto the floor. Even from the nurses like myself, there's hardly ever love – simply patience.

When I look at the surroundings, I have to wonder – how is a person ever supposed to get well when the asylum and the people give them many more reasons to be insane? I don't know how some of them find their way back to the real world, because if I couldn't go home to a place full of reminders of who I am and who I love, I believe that I too would remain within those white borders and never want to see the sun again.



"There is a storm in my head
It rains on my bed
When you are not here
I'm not afraid of dying
But I am afraid of losing you

Maybe I'm addicted
I'm out of control
But you're the drug that keeps me from dying
Maybe I'm a liar
But all I really know
Is you're the only reason I'm trying..."

I think you completed the asignment perfectly. I mean, they want these people to be sane, right? and what happens in experiments where "normal" subjects are stuck in an all white room with no time or anything normal? THEY GO CRAZY. it's like someone who is afraid of sharks being put in a room with shark wallpaper.... i figure the insane are confused or crazed by nothingness, and so where do we put them? in a room wallpapered in nothingness!

excellent writing. very easy and entertaing read without being preachy.... very real with those comforts of home you through in. your narrator sounded real, like i could ask her questions. if that makes sense!

thanks for the share... creative writing classes rock.

mons

mons,

Thank you for that. I agree with you, it makes no sense to me to put people who are insane in a place that quite frankly would make me even more insane. Although as far as the shark wallpaper idea, I think some psychologists would call that desensitizing a person from their shark fear...so that may be different. Although personally I'm fine with my fears – I wouldn't want to be put in a room full of bees that can't sting or something just to desensitize me. Nooooo thank you.

I'm glad because I was trying not to be preachy about it, but just stating how I'd picture it to be. And yes, that makes sense, I get it...it's best to have a narrator that feels real and feels...approachable. Otherwise, why would you want to keep reading?

You're welcome...and I'm enjoying my Creative Writing class. It's making me think of new things and write with different perspectives, which was always difficult for me to do - so I agree there definitely. Thanks again, mons.

~Gabber



"There is a storm in my head
It rains on my bed
When you are not here
I'm not afraid of dying
But I am afraid of losing you

Maybe I'm addicted
I'm out of control
But you're the drug that keeps me from dying
Maybe I'm a liar
But all I really know
Is you're the only reason I'm trying..."