The world is certainly a puzzling place at times. Often, I find myself wondering what it is about this world that drives me so completely insane. There must be something, there's always something, that drives me crazy like this. Perhaps its the changing weather patterns, the way we treat one another, or maybe, just maybe, I'm completely off my freakin' rocker. This last of the possibilities strikes me as possibly being the most likely, but then again it may not be.
I feel this is the most likely reason simply because I am a writer, and as I writer, I think I must slightly be crazy. Writing is not something we really just WANT to do. It is something that consumes every aspect of our lives, as writers, and forces us to choose between a comfortable normal life, or abject poverty and varying degrees of mental instability. If we want to live normal lives, we have to give it up, we can't keep hanging onto the dream that some day we're going to be a famous published author. On the other hand, if we are willing to give up normality, then there is always the hope we'll be able to see through the bleakness of poverty and insanity to cut through and eventually get what we feel we deserve: reknown.
Or maybe, because I'm an author, I'm not really crazy. It's everyone else who has deluded themselves into see the false reality that lies on top, the lie that may not always be pleasant but it's sure as heck a lot easier to swallow than that undeniable truth that runs beneath everything else and which rends the minds of those who see it apart. People always say there is a fine line between genius and insanity, but I say there is no line, only a sick sort of blur which pervades each one in varying quantities. The minds that have been torn apart by truth and reality are the ones that are the most brilliant. My mind is only slightly tainted by this ultimate existence, but maybe some day everything will make sense and finally I'll slip into the holds of complete insanity and be able to grasp onto the sucess that sits just outside of my grasp. On that day, I will certainly be most excited.
But what does it mean to be insane, anyways? What will it do to myself, to you, to anyone? Is it really all that bad? Could being a little bit crazy be a good thing?
Who knows, who knows.
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