I Wish I Was Crazy

by The Blue Spirit

Oh, how I wish I was crazy. Not crazy like I am now. They think I need to be locked away in this soft prison because I don't speak much and because I clame to have seen the Apocalypse. Also because I can hear the wind and birds like no one else can. They do speak to me. I beileve that they speak to everyone; I'm just the only one who really understands them. I wasn't crazy until I was placed here. Tied to the bed with the bands of not only leather and metal, but of shame and dissaray, forever hell bwent because of the human weaknesses I habve that are penetrated by the arrogance of human words. I do not value words. Does that make me crazy? Because of virtue of existence, it seems, those corrupt enough to be in power cna justify the martyrdom of those different from them. Am I crazy because I criticize, and them sane because the persecute with the iron fist that is weilded by nothing but perpetual fear and the ropes of society?

That's what they tell me, only in different words. I'm unsafe to myself and others. That's their favorite. I've never harmed another living thing in my life. I wouldn't walk on the grass as a child without silently asking it's permission. I wouldn't swat a fly away, nor crush a spider that surprised me. I suppose, by their words, their taunting, nervous, contradicting words, that you can be completely harmless and, in turn, be very dangerous because of that. Of course, I'm not harmless. I could hurt another. I could kill them all and not be caught or suspected. But I wouldn't. All that happens to those who kill is they die.

I don't like words. Words are just sounds. SOunds are valuable - its the kind of thing so many people take ofr granted - knowing what something will sound like, or being surprised by it. But words are sounds with angry and empty meaning. They use words all of the time to try to explain me. I never used words. My mother cried when I wouldn't use them. But I couldn't let ehr falacy of an emotion tempt me to stray from what I beleived based on ehr conformity rules rule.

Heh. Maybe I am crazy and just can't see it. Oh, how I wish, that if I were crazy, I was truly crazy, like those men and women who forget comprehension. They don't know pain or fear and don't know what it feels like to be torn between that good and bad, the conformity and the individualism - and, for me and those like me - the truth inside yourself and the fiction inside of others.