Who I want to tell you that I am...

I want to tell you about myself…But then you would know me and I may distress you…or you might think you know me ,and then in future blogs I may disappoint you. Hmmmmm, I think I will merely be a shadow of a thought for you. A shadow that you can’t quite see, yet you absolutely know that I am real. My thoughts may entice you to anger or bestow you abandoned delight. My thoughts may simply amuse you or they might make you think. I do however promise that you won’t be bored. Unless you don’t like to think in which case you need to scurry on to a more palatable blog. I am thought to be many ,many things….but boring will never be said of me. Secondly it may help you to know that I don’t readily think like most other people. I do not say that arrogantly. Many times I wish that I did fit better into the norm way of thinking. I think I could become very comfortable and free, happy in my own skin sort of way of being. Instead of always having to explain myself to others in such great detail that I begin to bore myself. Either get me or go away. I don’t really have the time or the energy to spoon feed simplistic wonderments. You bore me! how bout that. Some people like to put labels on my way of thinking…I won’t bore you with the details of that little game. But I warn you there will definitely be times that you ache to bring me some lithium…or some anti -psychotics…don’t bother…I wouldn’t take it!
Like Alice who has certainly fallen into the rabbit hole we should dive in head first.
Let me begin by telling you that I have a prolific mind. My mother used to tell me just stop talking and write it down, so I can read it later. I had to many thoughts and I made her head hurt from listening to my endless talking. So I write, and I write a lot. My need to share my ideas. It comes from that very moment in my mothers kitchen when she told me to write it down. What she implied by her statement was not that I should write, it was that I should just be quite a minute so she could mash the potatoes, and not wonder with me about why the rainbow began its color scheme easily instead of pounding our mind with its abrupt appearance. The colors just sort of fade into themselves….
Finding the beauty in all around me has been a battle I like to explore. Even the ugliest event, if taken under intelligent consideration can become beauty if we coax it long enough.
enlightened reasoning is the cornerstone to which I live and breath. I cannot abide in simplistic for to long or I really do go mad. Madness is a delicate balance between knowing your reasoning is odd and believing it to matter to those your destined to interact with.

A casual strol through a lunatic asylum shows that faith does not prove anything

I love this quote by Nietzsche! In fact I have been quoting this man for some years now. This is my new favorite quote. The words speak to my spirit. I have walked the halls of lunacy from the inside and from the outside. What I mean by that is that I have been deemed clinically insane, so I set out to define what they could possibly mean by their menial study of my beautiful mind. While in the midst of my tumultuous study of me I became educated in the realm of crazy. I get crazy. I see it everywhere. Before I digress into the absurdity of mundane vernacular of the boring people sitting across a big desk with a piece of paper of their degree decorating their wall. All the while they beg for 'wonderful pieces of art' from their patients to decorate the emptiness of their life. psht...If someone shoves another crayon at me with a blank piece of paper and asks me to draw for them...I may explode. But then of course they would wrap me up with my own arms and try to suffocate my soul as I struggle to be heard above the meds that then course through my veins.
I knew I would digress into my own drama...sorry.
I have walked the halls of 'hospitals' and I have walked the halls of churches. You cannot have a conversation with a clinically crazy person without them talking to you about religion. Church people don't ever talk about God, they usually keep the conversation to the the latest ministry they are pimping, or the need for some more money for the new youth sumtin or other. But if you want to talk about God and what he really means to people go to the crazy house...they can't talk about anything else. They, ahem, we can't help but intimately know and understand the deity that created us. It's just second nature into the discovery of who we are and why we think the way we think. It is what it is ,baby!
Blind faith is a disease of mediocrity. Faith, to me anyway, interchanges with hope. To me it is the almost panting need and desire to hope that you are right after all. faith is like the outside of a thought. its a hope, desire... hmmm, Let me be more clear. what I mean is I don't have faith that God exists. I know He does, its not a question of faith...It's a deep intimate knowing. Faith to me is like a child singing ever so sweetly Jesus loves me yes I know. Its a great thought, to have faith that you blindly take into account something someone tells you as truth. But where is your truth in that, where is YOUR belief. It seems to me to be very menial and tainted and simple and sweet...but not very smart. Its not very intelligent, not at all real or authentic. I prefer to find the answers for myself. many of those I see stuck in the middle of a sing song analysis of Jesus are stuck smack dab in the middle of their own insanity and to me are to lazy to figure the crap out on their own. They to me are to lazy to figure out what is really happening inside their hearts or minds. OK I could talk forever about this thought I think. But then you would be in danger of taking on my thoughts for yourself and still being the mediocre masses I see all around me.

The secrets of the universe are clear afrer you have experienced the secrets...and not before. Becouse before you are just a lame nobody with some external knowledge of what someone has told you. External knowledge is not legitimate. I will merely smile sweetily at you as you try to mimic the ponderings of someone else. I include all mimicry in that thought. The many doctors who have studied my certain ailment make me smile and push my vuloptuous breasts at them as they distract themselves from their empty thougths taht have been stolen and I laugh and laugh and laugh....
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