Letter to Myself: Notations on semi-insanity
Q: If you stop to wonder if you are insane, does that imply that you are not too far gone?
Q2: Or does it indicate that you are so far over the edge of madness that you have to ask?
A: Who's really sane, anyhow?
And for that matter who is the epitome of saneness that he (or she, heaven forbid) can be self righteous enough to deem others lacking in that intangible quality? I, as a doubter of the sanity of the Universe/Multiverse in general say that I am a prime candidate for that position... but then again, I never was much into the politics of status. O' lovely nonsense thy name is Man.
Why delude yourself with the truth when you can simply deny reality,
ignore injustice and pain, and pretend that you're having a good time?
Don't try to define the reasons for existence- Do as most men (and
women) - Be as hollow as everyone else. Beleaguering yourself with existential ponderances will only make you see the world as it really is –
...And that will only make you want to leave..!
If life were as simple as some perceive it to be, then the ignorant
would reign and those who lived by thought would be seen as the ultimate fools
Hmm... maybe it is that simple after all.
4 comments:
Often irony is lost on me since I am officially insane. I have probably always been insane. But was officially diagnosed as insane about thirty years ago. My insanity was managed for a long time with antidepressants, until I had an official psychosis, complete with (first) aural hallucinations for a week or so (so hard to keep track of time when you're hallucinating all the time) and then they became visual as well--so hard to go about your daily life when you're both hearing voices, talking, singing voices (and not in a very nice way--the most graphically misogynistic, violent lyrics, sung by a quartet of sweet looking old black men, nicely dressed in dark suits and narrow dark ties, good dark shoes, socks with clocks, who I thought, looked like blues men) I like the blues--gangsta rap, not so much. This episode led to a long hospitalization.
Maybe I should write this at home. Mainly what I started to say is, I take you at face value. Pretty funny, huh, since I have never seen your face. Of course I mean that metaphorically. But if you ask a serious question that seems pretty not quite so genuine, and maybe a little too obvious to me, I'll take it up with you. For instance, things can make us insane. We are living in insane times. Obama makes us hopeful, but that's a little dangerous in insane times. Come home to mama and let's talk about it.
Utah, it's the sanity that makes me run screaming away. I can't take the mundane very long without exploding.
Without all the pretty visions out of the corners of my eyes, or the dreams that I can't discern from reality once waking, this life would be unbearable.
Without my fantastic imagination, like that snake pic that makes me wince and feel a chill EVERY SINGLE TIME I See it pop up, this reality pales too much to even live it out. Thank whatever insanity paints the colors in my head so unrealistically vivid.
Put down the crack pipe friend. Back awaaaaaaaaaaaaaay from the crack pipe.
hey, they can't ALL be gems,now
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