Sanity is a word invented by people who need to validate their boring lives.
The thought of the day....
This is a comment I made to a person who is on a quest to find sanity.
The subsequent rebuttal...
I can relate to your quest to find a more "sane" existence. But I've recently come to the conclusion that for those who suffer (or bask with delight within) the realm of neurosis, the concept of somehow "making sense" of their disorientated, manic thoughts, would ultimately leave them feeling non-existant. I say this because I've recently paid very close attention to the rants made by people who have their so-called 'mental shit together' and I always find myself extremely uninterested. Where's the drama, mama? I find that the focus of their interests usually falls into social and material issues of the trivial sort. I, having been on anti-anxiety meds for a good two years now, having been hospitalized for four month due to a mental disorder, having undergone intense therapy for the last three odd years, can bodly testify that my life merits a substantial amount praise for the fact that it is constantly stimulating and out-of-the ordinary, trivial, and repetitive world most 'sane' people find themselves within. There is, and this explains the meds and the therapy, a limit of course to how crazy you can get before the mental stress transfers to the physical and your body starts to break down as a result of the destructive state of your mind...but if you can keep that line in check, and manage to stay on the side where your heart can still beat and your legs can still walk, well then where could the disatisfaction lay?
Let me know what you think....
crazy and content,
jOycE
This is a comment I made to a person who is on a quest to find sanity.
The subsequent rebuttal...
I can relate to your quest to find a more "sane" existence. But I've recently come to the conclusion that for those who suffer (or bask with delight within) the realm of neurosis, the concept of somehow "making sense" of their disorientated, manic thoughts, would ultimately leave them feeling non-existant. I say this because I've recently paid very close attention to the rants made by people who have their so-called 'mental shit together' and I always find myself extremely uninterested. Where's the drama, mama? I find that the focus of their interests usually falls into social and material issues of the trivial sort. I, having been on anti-anxiety meds for a good two years now, having been hospitalized for four month due to a mental disorder, having undergone intense therapy for the last three odd years, can bodly testify that my life merits a substantial amount praise for the fact that it is constantly stimulating and out-of-the ordinary, trivial, and repetitive world most 'sane' people find themselves within. There is, and this explains the meds and the therapy, a limit of course to how crazy you can get before the mental stress transfers to the physical and your body starts to break down as a result of the destructive state of your mind...but if you can keep that line in check, and manage to stay on the side where your heart can still beat and your legs can still walk, well then where could the disatisfaction lay?
Let me know what you think....
crazy and content,
jOycE