Ramblings From the Sane

If time can't heal and love does naught but hurt, to what do I turn?

All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy.

Love is the serum and the syringe is my voice, and the prick will only bother you if you don't trust the doctor.

Cold hands and a warm heart is only a saying if your mind has gone numb.

I hate you but the lingering love in your eyes tells me otherwise.

I'm both down to earth and outlandish, but only because you think I am.

I'm in my own little world, but I visit yours at the same time you visit mine.

Sometimes you learn without asking, and sometimes you get nothing when you do ask.

I think in solitude not for silence, but for discretion.

Faceless fears, tainted tears, and shorn gears weren't there from the beginning.

In the midst of occupation there is pointlessness; society keeps the masses happy, for society is the masses, but I believe it destroys and constrains individuality, and not inadvertently. Realize that it also encourages individuality; only if it can reap the benefits.

There is no such thing as a crazy man beyond what we have made up. I don't see a serial killer, nor do I even see the obsessive compulsive 'disorder' that seems to be their defining trait. I just see somebody who is 'picky' and the means in which he or she satisfies him or herself are nothing but different from those of myself. Many 'insane' people think that those who deem them insane are the real nuts. Keep in mind that I don't think I'm crazy, I just see myself as thinking outside the mammalian box of judgment.

The masses make up words and define them to the liking of... the masses. Weird is taken to mean unusual. Crazy people are weird. So by that logic, crazy people are unusual, and by that logic, the deranged are NOT the masses. We use the very same logic to dictate and govern. You can never have everybody happy, quite obviously, but it never hurts to realize that the only reason for such things is because we're judgmental and selfish.