They have pills for that now you know?

There is something about madness, insanity, crazy-people what have you, that is practically endearing to us as people.  There are characters who are so crazy, they know they're insane.  Their own mental instability pains them, drives them to hold on to anything that makes them seem normal.  It makes the heart weep to know that they will never be healed, there is just a recursive spiral of hope and failure.  They want to be right and good, but they cannot for the life of them manage it.  The schizophrenic who exiles themselves, or multiple personalities that are barley contained.  Or what of the one who wears their instability like a cloak, wrapped up and safe in madness, giggling and running towards the darkness.  They know they go the wrong way, but it is their right way.  The ones who delight in the new bazaar worlds you can see within.  There is almost a magic in being able to embrace it, to see beyond to real world to the imagined and the hidden.  There is even an idea, of a person who is so sane, they are crazy.  Their grip on reality is so tight and unyielding that they break it into tiny fragments that can be recognized as sanity, but will never be reassembled. 

Insanity.  It's a well documented disease stemming from a variety of chemical imbalances, brain damage, or psychological imbalances.  But it's almost as if its catching.  Everyone, at one time or another, has thought to themselves, "I must be crazy."  I personally prefer to be described as mad.  It's said that the people who don't question their sanity are the truly crazy, but I disagree.  I think everyone is crazy, you'd have to be to put up with some of the shit we do.  I think the people who are to afraid to admit their imbalance are the dangerous ones, because they only grasp at the veneer of sanity and rationality without actually looking close enough to see the flaws.

I have often times toyed with loosening the hold that reality has on my mind.  By depriving my mind of sleep, I am able to change everything about me, simply by changing how I perceive the world.  I find it exhilarating to look out at the world from my own eyes and see something completely different and alien.  People pass by as shapes of consciousness, with effable goals and drives.  Trees become magical fractal constructs of life and creation.  Birds fucking FLY!  There are magical things and mysteries under every rock and within every bole.  The world's majesty is there for us to but open our eyes.  And while our eyes are surely open, and we see and navigate its tremulous corridors, we do not peek in the alcoves at its hidden arts, to busy are we at rushing through it.  We run, blind to the wonders it holds, just hoping that it wont all collapse on us before we get to the end.  But the end, is it.  So stay a while and listen to the music the reverberations play, and watch how the birds fly.  Maybe at the end of the day, we'll actually see all the real worlds.