Making the most of it I try to string together words to make some shared meaning, to try and communicate my feelings to you. Why does this seem to plague me so much? It haunts me, a floating sceptre hovering behind my rationality; always there.

 

And yet not. On examination there is nothing there. This is madness.  No question. Not the madness of manic antics, of deep holes and commanding voices, but the madness of knowing. The insanity of knowing too much, knowing that none of what we do makes sense. The more I try, the more confused I become, the further I take myself away from my centre of peace.

 

I am distracted and in being so I have forgotten why I entered the room. Now as I gaze at the still blank faces I know. I know I am not alone in this madness. Thankfully there are others congregated here who feel the disjuncture.

 

x bhavatu sabbe mangalum x

 

Tags: madness

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