Why Mental Illness Can Save Someone’s Life

So I’m crazy. The doctors drilled it into me, mom and dad wept for me, brothers and sisters didn’t pick on me and friends stayed clear of me. Can you blame them? But we’re all a little crazy, the world is one big mental asylum and all the countries are personal padded cells for all nationalities. But in this day and age, broken is the new fixed.
And for me as a warped minded writer, this gives me a certain advantage over other scribblers out there. Yes, they have fancy educations. Yes, they have big bank accounts. Yes, their daddies know the right people and connections. But no, they do not have a genuine gift as I do. Yes, I am poverty ridden, broke to pockets seams. I failed high school, except for English. This is where I triumph.

I do remember heading to school once; my feet sprawled out on the top deck of the double-decker bus. I was having major headache recently, but I hide it well because I had no one to complain too. I was still a geeky teen in high school. My bus stop was coming up and I stood and shaking I walked down the bus aisle. As I reached the stairs blackness hit my eyes and the next thing I knew I was on my back covered in cuts and bruises and a bus full of people laughing at me. I made a hasty retreat from my embarrassment.

That was the first time I blacked out, this was the onset for something dark coming into focus readying itself to consume me. I at never played truant from school, I always did the right thing, which made me a target for the bullies. I never wanted to be this guy but this is the result of my history that shifted my geography, since then my mathematical problems doubled, tripled and quadrupled and within my science all I am left with is the P.E. I learned that made me run away with a pipe-dream for bad English and dark-side of the human anatomy and biology for my evil fiction homework.
But as my good behaviour shifted into a bad attitude, I felt I gain control of myself, finally. No longer was I a robot stricken by routine. And when my imagination hit me between the eyes, I concocted a devilish plan, use what I have and write everything you can.

Now this is easier said than done; especially when you have no money, no help and no readers. First thing was first, I needed a computer. I needed money for a computer, I needed a job. For a job I needed the right grades, which I didn’t have. Shop work it is (I am still working here by the way.) So now I have my computer, a little money, not a lot but hey, we writers have to start somewhere.
But if it wasn’t for my mental illness, I’m sure I would have given up on my life a long time ago. So now I plod on with my damaged baggage dreaming of something I can only imagine.

But I am sure, as long as I jot down all I can and keep reaching out to people, one day my dreams will come true. I am working on my second novel, which will shock the pants off this world, but I know you will enjoy it.
And I am still blogging short stories and creative writing; from time to time waving my poetic pen across the paper for you too.
So keep reading.

And keep your pens busy.

Psycho for life!! Haha!

Alex

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The Broken One

I’m the type of kid who doesn’t belong here; I stick out like a sore thumb. They tried to fix me, didn’t work; now they are biting nails around me waiting to see how much I can stamp on these pages before I snap off for good. How much is enough to call enough-is-enough? I couldn’t control my past but observe how I sculpt my future. Fire-red is the new Blackness, these pages with go up in smoke. These pages are my playground, push me and I’ll swing.

This world didn’t break me, I was already broken. And the brick that was threw through my window and did it, I am holding onto as if it was my dream, because when the time is right, I will make this world swallow what people have done to me. Looks like The Evilness has raised its ugly face again, it’s all only bravado, I just caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror.  My sane-self is trapped on the other side, he sees all; tonight I will be your host and he will be my hostage. Welcome to the Alexander Kennedy Show!

He’s going cuckoo again! Doctors stop the treatment, it’s the wrong diagnosis; I merely write better when I have my head in the clouds. Well, it does give new meaning to higher functioning!

My brain is an intricate web; make sure you don’t get tangled in the words I weave. I’m the type of writer who pretends he’s a spider, for one purpose; to spin the peace symbol around before I chomp down on a fly girl. As a writer you must know I can kill with only finger and a thumb. They say one man’s delusions are another man’s faith. Do not worry; I have faith within my delusions.

I have to beat life because I can’t cheat this death,

I say I feel fine but my heart has raised secrets,

I may be in deep rhyme as I’m sitting at my desk,

As every night I die because my mind can regress.

I’m morphing into a monster,

Everybody stand back!

This horror-show I’m applaud in,

Know I have the quickest-hand on this pad,

Stand back!!

All About The Crazy Writer – Alexander Kennedy

Three Finished Manuscripts – Several More in the Works. At the moment, I am not represented by an agency.
First-off I would like to thank you for stopping by…

I write because words are all I have; I’ll out-rightly out write you because you write what is rightly right!

My name is Alexander Kennedy, I am 30 years old and live here in Kingston Upon Hull, England with my Fiancé – Cacilia, and my Three Year Old Son Alexander (Jr) A.J. for short. As a young “Mental Challenged” teen I quickly developed a love for rhyming words (Aspirations of becoming a white rapper/ poet.) But I didn’t know it was the love for the shock of words I loved.
But after a few years on the poet scene I found out the words I used were no longer filling that void within me. I needed a challenge while I was attending a mental health hospital for delusions, unable to tell the difference between reality and dreams, walking around and having terrors form right before his eyes, all the while trying to keep my “Normal life” held together. I found a way out in Short stories and Screenplays. I generated myself as a novice pen-man. But as I marched my way through the writing scene, the words I was using did not have the same effect on me, so thus a novel was needed for his void. Taking all of the distorted images of people and events within my life, I create some of the weirdest and dark toned stories.
To keep my void filled I must still tackle all of my writing on a weekly or daily basis to ensure my pen doesn’t get lazy.
“I have been to hell when I was boy, when I arose from the fires I became a man; now, living out my life as an act to fit in to a place I can never truly be part of, so I write worlds I remember to entertain you from the darkness that raised me.” – “Psycho-Speak” Alex Kennedy.
If you would like to send us a private message, YOU CAN! We will receive your message and relay it back to Alex. The link is below. (NOTE: If you could leave us a short comment upon this page stating you have sent us a message, it would be appreciated, as we are not always on the email. Thank you.)
If you would like to talk to me about my writings or possible representation or guest-blog please use the e-mail below.
storywriteralexander@gmail.com
I am a real life Mental Patient. Now I shall show you a world within the one you live in.” – Alex Kennedy
(…May I just point out some of my earlier stories, from years prior, are from when I was mentally ill and on meds, so there maybe some spelling mistakes and weird twists. No I will not change them! They remind me of a time when I was less than myself now. But as I have grown, so has my work and spell-checking. Thank you.)
HAVE YOUR SAY AND TELL ME WHAT YOU THINK! Thanks for reading.

WELCOME!