How would it be if instead of introducing myself to a new person I would say:
Hello, I am Crazy. Are you Crazy too?
We are all insane. Pascal once said: “Everybody is so crazy, so Normal is just another word for madness.”
This is unfortunately quite true. To quote a fellow blogger: “The truth is that we are all insane. That is a fact, everyone I know suffer from the disease of imagining that they are separate individuals”
For sure, people are very much in love with their specific insanity – separateness. It goes on at all levels – “my separateness is much more valuable than yours. Even my singular wretchedness is far more interesting than yours.”
You can see it everywhere. What is intriguing is this:
Can I see, realize and impartially admit…that indeed, I am crazy? Can you see that you are crazy?
How crazy are we, in fact?
The vital question is this: What if I am crazy without knowing it? And if I am…? Can I stay with my craziness, linger and look at it without prejudice, accept it both in myself and in others?…
There are many subtle or crass degrees of madness today. Its crass manifestations I can deal with, you can recognize it easily.
What scares me terribly is the kind of subtle and hard detectable craziness. That is dangerous. Wickedly unpredictable and treacherous.
You need almost to be endowed with laser sight in order to see through it.
Literally speaking, I have to admit that despite my presumably sharp and incisive intuition,
I have been fooled by this perfidious uncommon disease.
I have come to the point where despite my openness and vivid social interest, I HAVE BECOME DISTRUSTFUL OF PEOPLE, regardless of their high or low position in society – so badly it is.
At first they all seem sane, decent and normal. When you get to know them a little you may have the most striking surprises.
They seem normal and alas, you soon find out that was just a very honed facade. Behind this lurks sheer and totally incoherent madness. Fear of worst kind.
I will make my point. Some two weeks ago, I met quite an interesting girl who appeared to be fairly decent – to make it short – a seemingly nice person. We had a coffee, discussed about life-matters, we had a walk and I found out she was versed in art and painting. We spent a great moment together.
We were to meet again the coming Sunday. I sent her a text message. Here is the
Me: Hello I am in town
She: I’m in the emergency room with a broken arm: I TRIED TO CYCLE WITH CLOSED EYES,
did not have enough confidence, I don´t know…
Me: Oh dear …
What are you up to really? Who do you want to challenge? Why would you punish yourself?
She: I do not punish myself BUT YOU… I want to get attention from a kind brother who cares. Fuck, you fucking brat, go to hell – there is huge sorrow inside of me, a vacuum,
I can´t stand to be mad at you anymore, want to show my love and care for you.
Me: Is this for me?
She: Yes it’s for you, I can not go around with this in me anymore.
I was dumbfounded after this…terrified actually. Shocked.
A 30-year-old girl cycling with closed eyes…
It is delirious…Is it frantic madness or what…? I meet her twice and she already wants to punish me…
Who can speculate what would have happened if I had continued to see her more…? Hard to imagine…
I saw her by chance some week ago. Her arm was bandaged. I asked her:
” What were those text messages about?”
“A…nothing special…” she replied almost not knowing what I was talking about. “Oh yes…those messages – I almost forgot. I felt like saying these things to my brother,
so I kind of chose to write to you instead……
This girl is now working in a kindergarten. Their parents are all too “busy” to realize what will happen to those kids.