Tribute to Insanity


Every good thing in life always comes with a cost. Be it the lessons you learn, the anonymity you make sense of, the sadness you encounter, and the happiness you create. It all comes with a price.
The price of your soul. It slowly etches away, bit by bit, scrapes away what is complete, to something that is aged, something that is scarred with more knowledge then you thought possible. With bitterness, disappointments, with philosophies, theories based on your own experiences, that seem verifiable later.
You try to lead a life, keeping in mind not to over step boundaries, not to knock on the same door twice, so you won’t be pushed into the ground the third time.
You still can’t figure out where you belong, but you realize, where you don’t belong.
That’s when you know, that you can never know for sure, at all.
It’s the interminable loop, where nothing right is ever justified, and nothing wrong, is ever proved.
Because, your right and wrongs are only yours to keep, only yours to live with, they are your own personal slave, bowing and struggling to keep up with your every day endeavors, your every day achievements and failures.
Some of us justify our decisions merely as insanity. It is the most uncomplicated task, of shoving all our complications, all the snippets, leftovers, of bad days, of incomplete conversations, of darker nights, filled with rainy mornings, of empty feelings and hollows that exist within, into a chest, to be opened some other day. But the fact that we often miss facing is that chest seems to dwell deep within us, so every time we try to look within our self, whenever the moment calls for a reality check, that’s the first place where we are directed.
You cannot hide behind a veil of sorrows, nor can you hide behind an exterior of iron, for the skin is too thin, and behind this, inhabits everything that may amaze you, scare you, amuse you and eventually define you.
This idea of insanity may be well justified, but it is carefully weaved through time, and eventually it becomes a part of you that you cannot tear away.
Paulo Coelho wrote in Eleven Minutes:
“When I had nothing to lose, I had everything. When I stopped being who I am, I found myself.”
You cannot let anything define who you are, your identity, your being is only yours to will, only yours to keep, and only yours to face at the end of the day.
Your fate may frighten you; your faith may forsake you, but your dreams, your resolve, will stay with you.
Life can change you, and make the big decisions, the overpowering motivations, the ambitions define you, but every once in a while, when you’re tired and your knees buckle beneath you, you can feel the sparkle of the night because of the stars, the smell of the ground after a night full of rain, a slight breeze playing upon your hair, when doubts surround you and you feel the love surround you. It’s that time, where you look within, to who you are, and see that it is never enough then. Your being, Is a tiny place in the world, and if it is not enough for you, it can never be enough to the universe.
That is the time, where you open the chest of unhappiness, and somehow find, that pain is there for a reason, and that tangled web of insanity is the only thing that keeps you sane.
You cannot imprison thoughts; you cannot enslave yourself in a life that will eventually pass you by, you have to choke, to breathe again.
“There is a legend about a bird which sings only once in it’s life, more beautifully than any other creature on the face of the earth. From the moment it leaves it’s nest, it searches for a thorn tree, and does not rest until it has found one. Then, it impales it’s breast on the longest, sharpest thorn. But as it is dying, it rises above it’s own agony to outsing the Lark and the Nightingale. The Thornbird pays it’s life for that one song, and the whole world stills to listen, and God in his heaven smiles, as it’s best is brought only at the cost of great pain; Driven to the thorn with no knowledge of the dying to come.
But when we press the thorn to our breast, we know, we understand…. and still, we do it.”  ~ Colleen McCullough

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5 Comments

  1. Very emo, i liked bits here and there. Lines from long ago ive heard, read etc. All in all not bad. Using easier words like coehlo will grasp a bigger audience, we all have great vocabulary. No doubt about that. Just simpler rendition of such subjects that complicate THINKERS and CURIOUS natures alike, helps them more. Difficult interpretations confuse them further.

  2. this is insane……ur writing skills are exceptional……i wish all the best for ur future endeavors….

  3. when you’re tired and your knees buckle beneath you, you can feel the sparkle of the night because of the stars, the smell of the ground after a night full of rain, a slight breeze playing upon your hair, when doubts surround you and you feel the love surround you. — i can relate to this, the only difference. i always feel like LONELINESS surrounds me.

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