madness.

How does madness look? Is there a wildness that lingers around the iris of the eye --creeping into the blues or greens or browns to give insanity away? Is it a thing that can be pinpointed? Can it be touched or defined, held or seen? Is it a manner of speaking, the way a person stands --how they slouch their shoulders? Or, is it obvious from what they hold dear?

I believe in madness, in the way a person sees the world; no two could be the same. Where and how one does find faith is individual, a specific type of insanity that serves as an excuse to right our being here.

Is crazy just another way of dealing with existence? Are reality and imagination really separate entities? If I believe in science and you believe in God, what difference is there but the face we give creation?

Madness comes in sizes that vary as much as faces. Little bits of hilarity tucked into our minds, seeping out at times. It leaks like water through a sieve and you could never plug up all of the holes.

And what is it that makes us whole, but the entirety of our minds? And, minds are silly, tricky things. We never embrace them fully. Out of fear of who we are or could be? I don't know.

I have lived the majority of my life living inside my mind and when asked where my thoughts have taken me I waste such time explaining madness away.

I don't believe there could ever be such a reason, such a person, or such an occurrence that could ever convince me that a little bit of crazy could ever be a bad thing.