Psychotic, bipolar, dual personality...words we all use to described the deranged ramblings of the man wearing aluminum foil on his head. We call him crazy. We feel a slight pitty and fear for what he is. He reminds of the fragility of our most precious gift. We don't like to look. Fearful that he'll turn into a mirror. He has lost his grip on reality and will most likely not retun. Sure we think that he will, if he gets the right treatment.That's right. Get him to a doctor that's only read about his state in textbooks so he can give him drugs. Drugs that make the colorful garden of the mind, a foggy knoll. They will make your body move uncontrolably, in ways you never have before. The worst thing is the labels. Especially when nobody else in the room knows. Did you about that guy danced with a pretty girl, then ran out crying? Yeah, he was bipolar....oooohhh. At what point do people become able to jump from end to end of the bell curve of happiness. How about that woman that killed her husband? The one that beat her every day, and no one helped her? Yea! I heard. Total psycho. I look away and say.
What made him go so far past the fringe? Was it not enough vitamins? Was it to many drugs? So we're going to cure him with more. That will work. For some. Others just need someone to talk to. Maybe the aliens really are trying to communicate with us/he can't take it though. No one believes him. Why won't they believe him? Was he bipolar, or was he gay? Did she have a choice to kill him, or be killed?It is all to fantastical. So's the fact that the earth's round...today. Time determines who's proven wright or wrong. From Leonardo DaVinci, to John Nash, and I'm sure they called Jesus crazy too. Are the voices he heard from God? Or were they just the thoughts in his own head making such sense of the world around him that they sounded divine? As he removes the tinfoil a light reflects from his hat and into my own eyes. His speach no longer rambling, but eloquent. Suddenly enlightenment inspiration, the divine touch of God, or I just see what needs to be done to work to change the system for the better. They are going to call me crazy. Will I be crucified? Or will I be doped up straped to an uncomfortable bed, not sure of even who I am anymore or why I am here? No, I will live comfortably, in my own house. It is my goal to take care of everyone, to work toward world peace. They will call me crazy. So, let it be. It's not putting up with bad people and worse situations.
It's not pretending that everything is ok, when your screaming for someone to see you inside. It's not working at a job that you hate, for years only to be fired before retirement. Being mean to a stranger trying to make a friend. It's not crazy to pray to no one you've ever met our heard from. But if you tell anyone you heard his voice, and he spoke to you and you plainly saw his face as clearly as the text on this page? That is crazy!
But sometimes crazy is the way of life. To dream a little dream, finding a little love, or changing the world.
Then let them call us crazy, because it is that hope which keeps me going. Not that we should stop, because a few of us need to hear it sometimes. I hope that one day you too will be called crazy, then maybe I'll have a new friend
No comments:
Post a Comment