I’m losing my mind.

Does genius come from squalor and self loathing madness? Is there beauty in the finest details of our weakest and most insincere moments?

Does good come from evil? Can our truest selves be revealed in our worst moments?

Let me clarify.

Is our true self only revealed when the very base of our being is called into question?

When there seems to be nothing left to clutch, nothing left to claw and tear at, our fingernails filling with the dirt of the pits of our souls is there something to be gained here?

Lately I’ve felt that I’m walking a fine line between madness and some sort of eye opening moment of self discovery. I don’t know. I can honestly say I don’t know. What I do know is that my life as of late is driving me to insanity. Everything is filled with double entendre and double speak. Trying to interpret every sentence that fills my ears, trying to figure out if it could somehow be taken or understood in another way.

It’s become so bad recently that I’m almost positive that everyone who speaks to me is mocking me in someway. That in every joke or slight nudge of sarcasm there is truth. There is a small piece of what that person really wants to say to me.

I don’t know, I’m just talking here. Maybe I just need to get out of my safety net. Maybe the whole world out there, filled to the brim with people, are all going through the same shit. I have no idea. Maybe that’s the problem?

The other side to that argument is that, what if I get out there and find a world filled with people just like me? What good does that do me? I’ve just trapped myself on our small planet with a bunch of people who, in all reality, don’t know anything. We think we do, but we have no idea.

Sorry for the rant, it’s just late and I’ve had one or two too many beers. Just a thought, that’s all.