I am Observant

A chaotic shifting, swirls through my crown, resting in a most uncomfortable area to throw shade in painfully pulsing waves. Once settled, it creeps throughout various areas, stimulating here then there. Pain arcs and resonates upon landing, occasionally disrupting and constricting reactions feasting on any strongly' instigated effects before migrating to the next area. The chaos displaces the residing light, leaving an empty and impressionable grey in its wake, arcing back for a quick bite on occasion.

Subtle reactions and visual hues sweep randomly, morphing the stability I had foster, rallying uncertainty with disguised affects. Visual deceptions flail about instigating undue shame and humiliation in the innocence perceived. I calmly panic within the suffocating thralls of the mind-numbing pain that I would behave in such poor taste, finding unencumbrance after its goal is attained.

Satisfied, it gathers in a single area causing a crushing pain until it disappears, peeling back like a slice of worn pizza stuck on a wall. It can remain gone for most of the day, but will sometimes dive into my crown repeatedly, in a very short amount of time. Like a kid jumping into water, a jarring splash of jolting pain sinks to the base of my neck.

Distractions to the calamity become more apparent as tolerance and peace emit vibrantly in the distance. Casting an awakening light, flickering, intermittently illuminating forgotten fears that team with repulsion and humiliation. Amidst the contrasting oversaturation cast by chaos's shifting influence, optimistic remedy's desperately attempt to remove the overpowering entity. Every failure confides possible vantage points, every victory becomes a short-term patch.

Unrelenting absurdity persistently bombard the patches covering my psychological triggers, rendering them useless, forcing an unintended retaliation. The cycle repeats over and over and suicidal thoughts appear but have never given up on living my life, so I joke about them but dismiss them ultimately. Forging an unconventional perspective has been a necessity in order to understand, and defend myself from what was happening within me.

As the, seemingly endless, chaotic shifting begins to dissipate it hurls inconsistent embellishments to divert focus from its faulting inconsistencies as it shrinks. Inch by inch this psychological tug-of-war awards my unconventional observance with a loving agony in accepting my true self. Remnant sensations begin to surface, fracturing emotional stagnations, I've unknowingly imposed in the past on several occasions. Soulful light permeates my being capturing triggers and rendering the shifting chaos present but immobile.

Holding chaos takes a lot of willpower and focus. It violently flails itself against the walls of its container causing temporary head-aches as it sways with each collision. My ability to keep it contained varies from day to day. I am unable to keep it contained forever, however. When it breaks free it will rapidly depart, searching for another food source, a sense of relief washes over me allowing me to breath, a little, while basking in my freedom from its grasp.

Before I knew what the chaos was, I chalked up my actions as a part of who I grew to become and thought because of this or that, relocating when, or after, its presence became too apparent to ignore. Relocating caused the chaos to become reclusive, possibly would relocate to another host, eliminating its presence and as time passed it would become active again. Undoubtedly knowing that it is a malicious entity capable of psychological and emotional destruction to unsuspecting victims causes to put myself in its path.

As a willing victim its presence can't evade me because I can partially distinguish its aura, or lack of, and will draw its presence back. I plan on trying a voodoo method of containing the spirit in a terra cotta pot, taking up pottery as a hobby and holding on to the belief that the terra cotta pot will work. Until I craft a pot to contain this intruding presence, I have little choice but to split my focus among; being food, containing it when it attempts to find another to destroy, maintain a job and a personal life (which I'm failing miserably).

Being a space mole, Observant's the name, and operator of a, near mint, Galactic Hut Bio-waste Disposal truck for 15 years, this sort of thing is unheard of! The Galactic Hut's insurance, apparently, only covers non-biological incidents, so an employee ACCIDENTLY taking home a, practically fresh, slab of Andromedan Space worm is "breaking regulation". Can you believe the nerve of them? My wife left me for a plumber that's more, "savvy" when it comes to bargain shopping, whatever that means. To top it all off, clay only comes from certain places in the galaxy and costs a fortune per gram to have delivered to my home planet, Mahone, which is grigul splat! (Please excuse my language.)

So, doc, what's the word? Do I qualify for an upgraded space mole body, preferably on with eyes...