"Much Madness is Divinest Sense"

Much Madness is Divinest Sense by Emily Dickinson

Much Madness is divinest sense -
To a discerning Eye -
Much Sense - the starkest Madness -
'Tis the Majority
In this, as all, prevail -
Assent - and you are sane -
Demur - you're straightway dangerous - 

And handled with a Chain - 

I want to share some of my thoughts, but I'm finding it difficult. It's hard to explain myself sometimes. It's easy to put it all in my journal where no one can possibly see it, but even knowing that not a ton of people read this blog, it is still hard. I guess that's one of the benefits of working on a blog like this. Baby steps towards sharing my own writing. Maybe I should just try to keep it simple and not try so hard to explain what I mean.

Nothing matters. Everything matters. Nothing matters because everything matters. Everything matters because nothing matters. 

Nothing changes. Everything changes. Nothing changes because everything changes. Everything changes because nothing changes. 

The universe is made up of seemingly insignificant and tiny things, but without those tiny things there wouldn't be a universe, would there? Can those tiny things stand alone, or do those tiny things only exist in relation to each other?

I know this kind of sounds like the whole, "If a tree falls in the middle of a forest, and there is no one around to hear it, does it make a sound?" I guess I have just been thinking about what matters. Why do we exist, and what is our purpose, and is there a point to it all, to anything?

I miss my parents. I have memories of them. They existed. They exist in my memories. That comforts me.

Sometimes it is liberating to think, "I can live without anyone, or anything! I have everything I need to survive within me."

Sometimes that same thought makes me sad.

Any friendship or relationship can end. Either by death, or by breaking up, or by going separate ways. Sometimes it is sad, and sometimes it is painful. Often it is necessary or inevitable.I guess that just makes me happy and sad at the same time. Happy to think that humans always have the ability to move on and adapt and grow. Sad that loss is such an inevitable part of life. Happy that the end of one things means the beginning of another. Sad that beginnings are always followed by endings, even if it doesn't happen for a long time. Moments are always leading to more moments. We just have to learn to appreciate the ones that matter. Figuring out which ones matter is another matter entirely. 

There have been many days this summer where I have gone 10 hours or more without talking to a single other person. I know it will continue to be the norm since writing for the most part is such a solitary endeavor.

I find myself asking, "Am I crazy?"

And then, "Am I crazy for thinking I'm crazy?"

Wait. "Am I crazy for thinking I can ask myself if I am crazy?"

Oh. My. God. "I MUST BE CRAZY. I AM TALKING TO MYSELF."

Really though, so long as I'm asking, I think I'm o.k. Really crazy people often have no idea that they are crazy, or worse they think they aren't crazy at all. And that's crazy! Because we're all a little crazy. 

Am I crazy for wanting to pursue writing? Am I grieving o.k. or am I letting myself go? Am I crazy for questioning life, even sometimes wondering if my own is worth living? Am I crazy when I think life isn't worth living, or am I crazy when I think life is worth living?Yes, I may be a little crazy, but life is always a lot crazy regardless of whether things are going well or going less well.