If there were ever a magical place on earth, it would not be Disney World. It would be the insane asylum. They don’t call them “insane asylums” anymore – they are something like “psychiatric hospitals” or “mental wards.” Whatever. “Insane asylum” sounds better. A lot better.
An asylum is a place to seek shelter, a place for protection. If you’re crazy, you go to one of these asylums where you can be crazy and be protected. Of course there will always be those pesky doctors and nurses who try to “cure” you, as if being sane is supposed to be “normal,” but I fantasize about an insane asylum where you can just be crazy insane and not be bothered with whatever anybody else calls “real.”
I’d love to live in a world where I can eat colors and songs sit down. I’d love to have all my friends around me, then blink my eyes and they’d all be gone, then blink my eyes and they would all appear again. It would be like clapper friends (or maybe I should say “blinker friends”). Instant company. Instant quiet time. And I could always block out those idiots that constantly annoy me. Life would be great.
I could sit in a corner for hours and go all over the cosmos, chatting with black holes and tasting all the constellations. I would have no worries, no expectations, no responsibilities, and no power. My meaningless life would abound with infinite meaning in my own little conscious confines.
Life in the so-called “sane” world is full of unpleasantries where I do attend to way too many responsibilities and expectations. My head spins and I wonder what the point of it all is. Who am I trying to impress? We’re all going to die anyway so why does it matter? The insane person would never think to ask such a question because the insane person’s world is full of so much meaning.
Yes, I’m romanticizing being insane. I’m not stupid. Being insane is often full of fear and paranoia. But I have to believe that there are probably more moments of excitement and wonder in the insane world than there is in the sane world. The sane world prides itself on its seriousness. I don’t like that. I’d rather live in fantasy and freedom, protected from all that seriousness.
Make me insane because the sanity is killing me.