As the insomnia continues, so does the blog! For those of you who have seen Amelie (one of the greatest movies of all time), know that my mood very much matches those of the heroine of that picture when it is said, "Amelie refused to get upset over a guy." It is now three in the morning. I will exercise then go to sleep. The following I wrote some time ago and may eventually incorporate into that play which I will someday write.

On Madness:
Madness is not a stress. It is relief. Madness is freedom-releasing the nightmare. It is when you know that you are mad, but when you have not wholly succumbed to it, and you still remember that no one else must realize. That is, pretending to see red when you see green, continuing to act as though you still perceive the world as everyone else does. The worst is the hope, the hope that must, at all costs, be stifled. For if you allow yourself to hope...that maybe this person has been here, will understand...because you must never ever tell them. They will not understand. And they cannot help you fight the canker that festers in your very soul. They would be repulsed, cast you away, where the darkness consumes you entirely.

I have lived without hope. Bleak? More than you can imagine. Easier, in many ways. But perhaps it is this that sets me apart, keeps me out. For human beings always hope. Compared to some, my sufferings have been minuscule. To others, beyond imagining. For me, it was almost the end. In a way, it was.

Eventually, you have to choose. You either sacrifice, or are sacrificed, though you'll gain neither the glory of the martyr nor the purse of the traitor. Either way, you are destroyed.