Madness...

"Madness is to think of too many things in succession too fast, or of one thing too exclusively."~Voltaire

Short and too the point, I am mad then.

I have always had an issue of keeping my mind still, I feel as though it moves constantly, a ceaseless, repetitive, affliction that I cannot escape. The weight one bears when trying to silence themselves is unimaginable to many. There is no on and off switch for some, even though we seek it, yearn for it. Our very inner selves seem to languish in confinement, leaving us to constantly endeavor in order to be triumphant.

Triumphant in what exactly? The silence? The peace? The finding of oneself? If we are victorious in silencing the madness within, then what is left? That to me has started to become my fear~the what is left. Nothing is left.

If then nothing is left, then do I not exist? The "I" now in oblivion. That thought of nothingness paralyzes my very being. So thus causing my mind to race more and the thoughts to continue onward and nonstop, restarting the problem from the beginning and the yearning of silence appears once again. This is what we call an impasse, quandary, morass, an entanglement of sorts.

It is amazing to me as I allow my fingers to attempt to move half as fast as my mind the ideas and vocabulary I have had hidden for so long. The attempted seclusion of my muddle mess called a mind has thus caused a destruction of my intellect, my instinct, my intuition, and my creativity; in essence a slow death of me. I am nervous to post as I am not confident enough that my mind is appropriately communicating in the English Language sense as it begins to spill out these words and thoughts onto the screen. I have pushed it aside for so long trying to seek out the normal, reasonable, well-adjusted appearance that I for some "mad" reason think I need to have.

Madness, I believe is almost an identity, an integrity of a person. We should not take that away from ourselves, it will lead to the very extinction of the being, the spirit. A hollow shell, the by-product of such grotesque limitation of oneself. I do not want to be a carapace.

I do not think Voltaire was inferring that madness is wrong and unnatural, only stating what it is. So I will cease this endless cycle of this topic and end it by leaving you with a more straightforward to the point conclusion by someone else.

"I am interested in madness. I believe it is the biggest thing in the human race, and the most constant. How do you take away from a man his madness without also taking away his identity?"~William Saroyan.