Sunday, January 31, 2010

WOLALALALALA

Insanity. Eh, figures that we would eventually get to this topic. I don’t really know if I have any good opinions on the issue but then again I am sure some people would love to argue that I don’t have any good opinions on anything. I think that were all a little bit insane. I think that no matter how brilliant or normal someone is they’re still totally whacked out. It’s not hard to understand insanity, one just has to choose to.

For example insanity is easily spotted given that one knows what to look for: if a person is totally normal, does what they’re told, never really complains, and lives in society’s cookie cutter world they’re insane; if someone goes out in public dressed as a gypsy dawning a makeshift afro they’re insane; if someone questions the world we live in not accepting of the way things are and finding it fun to break a couple of rules now then they’re insane; and if someone is a complete psychopath and gets their kicks and giggles from torturing and murdering people they’re one hundred percent insane. I can’t imagine that I’ve left out a single stereotype of all the people in the world; while many people may not match up with exactly one of those descriptions their probably not far from it.

While I haven’t had exactly the same experience as the woman from “The Yellow Wallpaper” I have on occasion found myself easily distracted by intricate designs placed on celling and walls. I’ve also found that I can have an emotional attachment to an inanimate objects. The strangest trait I have though is that I can willingly admit that I talk to myself. I have full on conversations and on occasion make up a monologue or two as a form of catharsis. While each of these things on there own don’t make me certifiable; together I am sure one could make an outstanding case.

This weekend I learned that the yiddish world mashugana means crazy. Whether that’s a coincidence or fate is totally up to the individual to decide. All I know is that I can’t seem to get the word out of my head now, another piece of evidence that I am certifiable is my likliness to become obsessed with something. As I’m writing this I am wondering if what I am implying makes any sense. If being crazy is the norm doesn’t that make being the norm crazy which is the norm which in turn is crazy, SEE! There’s no end. This world is a never ending circle of mushugana. The rules and orders that we live by are rules and orders put in place by other crazy people. The we live in a world where the blind lead the blind.

My opinions maybe offensive but there’s enough evidence to support the idea that I am eccentric and if my memory serves I was once an old woman who was told that, “...no one holds an eccentric responsible...”


I wrote this entry the way I did for a reason. Sometimes the craziness of life naturally flows without force, which is the idea I got from “The Yellow Wallpaper.” The reason I wrote this explanation is because I liked that Charlotte Gillman explain why she wrote her little piece of insanity and I thought maybe everyone in the world should do that too.

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