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I locked myself out of the world purged of poverty but the shine of skyscrapers, polished shoes and material things to travel into the underlying layer of this earth. There lies the insane in their own paradise, free from greed for wealth, power and status. They live each day without worries, without the least bit pressure to achieve a place in society.

The schizophrenic has created his own reality, lived as multiple characters in a multiplied mindset. Every reality and every character plays in a different story, controlled by him to end the way he wants.

The insane built walls around their world to keep out from the malicious people backstabbing each other in order to survive and the world of excessive rules that expected too much from them. They now listen to their inner voice which has been denied of for so long. They are pretty much sane to have given themselves a break from the cruelty of the sophisticated world to listen to themselves and their needs.

And there are those who wanted to end their lives but failed. Now people think they are mad and dangerous. They try to break away from the rules, not doing what people want them to and what they deem as a successful career. But what is so wrong with being an artist? They say it is because you will not earn enough to lead a good life.

My good life is the joy of doing things I like, working at my own pace, taking time to enjoy the simple things people have forgotten to on their blind rat race. Snuggle up in a blanket when the weather is cold and watch the raindrops fall, take time to watch the sky brighten up and daydream of wonderful things.

Little did I realize to lock myself out of the world I do not like, as the insane do by locking themselves behind those asylums walls, is to be like the desensitize people outside locking themselves in their own perfect worlds, free from the darker side of things and always hiding behind masks as if the world is but a masquerade party.

I venture a little off this piece of earth now, neither within the layers nor on top of them but aloft, floating and watching. To survive, I need to face the reality that I have to cope with the inauthentic life of gaining enough to cope with the high living standards. And to stay alive, I need to listen to myself and do what I want but be skillful in my madness because I do not possess the freedom the insane does. They can do anything they want because people know they are insane and it is only natural. And to live, I need to accept both worlds, live in both worlds and experience the wonder of both worlds because they coexist and they are equally as important.



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The following comments are for "The Insane"
by ^white





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