The Mind of "M" - M.J. Garrett (interesting books to read in english txt) 📗

She’s so sweet and you guys are amazing together. Thanks for being so great!

I’m sorry…none of this is true! I will be honest with you now. I live alone in an old country house located just south of Lake Summers, Iowa. I don’t have neighbors. My parents died when I was a kid and I don’t know any of my family. I’m old…too old to catch the eye of some of the local women, so I think about them instead. I spend a lot of time looking out the window by the front door. I think about the green pastures I don’t want to see and the lovely brook nestled under an adorable cobblestone bridge that I don’t even know exist. I’m a dreamer! But I don’t dream of butterflies and romantic comedies…I dream that one day I will be forgotten. I, along with this old decrepit house with one window, will be gone and there will be no one to tell my story. That’s what I want. I think we all want to be forgotten…that’s why we do nothing to be remembered for. Just let me look out this window…and let me pass. I’m the old man who lives alone in the old house just south of Lake Summers, Iowa. If there is even a Lake Summers, Iowa.


Spinning Rooms

The crowded room began spinning as my insignificance surfaced the fear I have of being alone. From the earliest age of the sexual maturation process, I have found myself attached to girls that I have no business being with. My very existence has been self-described as a pitiful detachment phobia with my own self worth being reliant on public, as well as, female opinion. From the age of 12 I have literally been in love! Not with just one person…but in love with the feeling of being loved, the feeling of being wanted and desired. Now I’m here, dizzy from the emotional solitude and fear of being alone. So, the room keeps spinning.

Today, her eyes were green. They had slivers of brown and gray, but with the sun shining through the windows and her lightly colored clothes, her eyes were green. Her neck and chest shined with a soft glare from the sweat of the hot day as she started to make her way through the crowded room. She walked toward me. She struggled to find me. I tried to yell for her, but there is no way that my voice could carry over the room’s busy atmosphere. The room keeps spinning. Feeling overwhelmed, I slip to my knees as the room keeps spinning.

I quickly put my hands on the floor as my breath began to quicken and my eyes started to water from the lack of air. The people don’t notice me…they keep walking and talking. As my hands start to bleed from the people stepping on them…they never stop walking…they never see me. Yet, I can still smell her skin. I can hear her breathe and I know that she’s looking for me. She frantically begins to work her way through the crowd…she’s searching and surveying the room…for me. If she finds me…she will save me. The room keeps spinning

I scream her name in agony “******!” as blood started to drip from my nose. “Where are you?!?!” With one bloody hand, I clinch my cramping stomach in hopes that I could ease the pain. It’s no use…I can’t save myself. I need you to find me. I need you to save me. Save me.


The Masochist

I know that you wish I would close my eyes and forget
But that’s not the way I work, I’m a mental masochist
I love to remember the wrong I’ve been dealt
It makes me feel and embrace the emotional hell…
You put me through, yes you, the one looking away
You can hide all you want, hope it all blows away
You can forget and move on…that’s the way you work
I’m too busy putting stripes on my back with your words
I can feel the pain with every lash that I give
I don’t want to forget, that would be the sin…
That would bury me, blindsided by my reality
You don’t love me, you only like my security
Does it hurt you to know that “I don’t give a fuck!”?
You had your chance to walk and now you’re virtually stuck!
Feel the pain, embrace the eyes of the hater
I could end it all, I could challenge the creater
I’m one dream away from my perfect illusion
Too bad I talk in my sleep and release the names of your intruders
I wonder how it is that you stay one step ahead
Don’t you know I love the pain, I let you stay ahead
I know that you wish I would close my eyes and forget
But that’s not the way I work, I’m a mental masochist


I am going to die.

“Take all the time you need.” He said, as he sat there looking at me over his wire framed reading glasses. With his legs crossed I could see his ridiculous plaid socks. The way he bounced his alligator covered foot up and down like I wasn’t paying him for his time, irritated me to the point that I couldn’t concentrate. All I could see was his snide eye brow twitch and a half-sarcastic grin as I began to tell him what all the voices in my head were saying.

“I don’t know…there is so much to say.” I watched as he shifted his weight and uncross his arms to adjust himself to a more comfortable position. He took a deep breath and slowly let it out as he pushed the button on his pen and prepared to write on his notepad. “I am going to die…right now! There is nothing I can do about it.” I leaned close to him to ensure he wrote every word. “Can you read it back to me?” I asked him.

“Why are you going to die?”

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, “Doc…just read it back to me, please.” I said calmly. “Just…read.”

“Okay?” He said as he lowered his eyebrows and squinted his beady eyes as if he was trying to read into my request with his over paid cereal box psychology.

Leaning in close to him, I whispered quite intensely, “Read…the fucking…words…back to me!”

Leaning close to me, he whispered, “You…don’t…scare me!” He then grinned at me and leaned back into his chair as he calmly and slowly read what he wrote down. “I am going to die…right now! There is nothing I can do about it.” The sarcastic grin began to form as he closed his eyes and reached to take off his wire frame reading glasses. As he did so, I quickly lunged forward and with one hand, grabbed him by his expensive neck tie and grabbed his cheap pen with the other hand. Before he had time to blink, I shoved the pen into his eye. Quickly removing it, I then shoved it into his wind pipe as I quickly wrapped his tie several times around his bleeding neck. Pulling the tie tighter and tighter, the veins in my hands and forearm began to fill with blood as my arms and forehead began to sweat.

“You see, Doc…I am a simple man.” I whispered in his ear. “While you patronize my intellectual ability, I read you like a fucking book. I see the way you squirm when you tell me to take all the time I need.” My hands begin to hurt as I squeeze tighter. “Your mouth pours out comfort while your face breathes contempt. It’s not words that you want from me…it’s the part of me that I can’t hold back that keeps you here! You know what? Fuck you!” As his limp body falls to the floor, my hurting hands release his neck tie. I look into his eye as I gently place his wire frame glasses on his face. I then smile at him as I fix his hair so that it doesn’t cover his forehead. As sweat slowly drips off my nose I stand up and begin to walk away feeling satisfied.


“Son? Son! What do you mean ‘I am going to die’?” I slowly start to come to my senses as I look around the doctor’s office. The doctor still sitting there with that smirk on his face, clicks that stupid pin while I begin to tell him what I meant by the words I asked him to write. “Well…What do you mean ‘I am going to die’?”

“Not me, Doc! I’m not about to die! You are!”


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She laid there in her bed, happy that her ungrateful husband didn’t wake her as he slipped out of the house on his way to work. She finds happiness in her solitude, a sort of escape from her reality….a reality that holds her hostage as she grows older and more used to the pain of looking at her hated other half. She hasn’t always been this way. She used to love life and all the amenities that came with her beloved husband. They have been together since high school. She wore his letter jacket through the halls of their small school and she sported his senior ring on her index finger. The ring, a bit too big, was fitted around the bottom with blue ribbon to match the color of the stone and school colors. She would stare at the ring in class with a smile of complete bliss. She loved her boyfriend, the high school hero…and the most popular boy in the entire school. Her girlfriends watched her sport the boyfriend’s attire with a sort of jealous but happy gleam in their eye. It was the small things he did that made her love him. He once rang the doorbell of her house and left her a box of chocolates and roses at the