Just some musings. My mind is racing very quickly so this is quite disorganized and all over the place (and possibly doesn't make sense). It is also likely far from my acceptable writing. I want to share it anyway.

I listen as my seven year old daughter shouts shotgun in hopes of claiming a seat next to the driver. Perhaps she's trying to preside over who she considers adults (really just children covered in age). I stand there with my little second place heart avoiding the sun, hoping to mask the light that seeps through my veins like a proud goddess, unrealistic and completely surreal.

I try to explain that the phrase shotgun in any form is really just a weapon of death. My dizzy stride controls my once childhood dream of living proudly in fame, controlling and deceiving the world I once believed to be peaceful and compassionate.

Perhaps pride is merely a form of self-denial molded into someone who appears to have together wrapped up in the palm of his hand. Or, maybe pride is just a child's cry for attention. There is no longer life outside of boundaries, no longer life outside of our personality claimed by a name in some psychiatrist's book or perhaps Webster's Dictionary. Perhaps those mentally ill are simply products of reality labeled otherwise by those who also use their brains to the foot of their knowledge.

A large portion of geniuses are considered insane. Is it because they have a much better grasp of reality and it's actually unrealistic features? Is it because they know how to use their own minds, how to create their own theories that are a multitude greater than the rest of the world's theories?

At a time, most believed the earth was flat. The human race believed that if one sailed too far, he would fall off the face of the earth. The small mass who believed otherwise was considered insane. Once the truth was discovered, likely everyone, except that small mass, was considered insane.

Throughout history, people have been misunderstood. Mentally ill are especially misunderstood. Perhaps, however, mentally ill are more in touch with human emotion. Perhaps they can interpret dream as reality.

Perhaps our fate is chosen by our mind rather than everyday occurrences. Why do we sometimes dream what we think just before we fall asleep? Are we sometimes victims to our own minds? Can we not control our minds all of the time? No? Then why must we harshly label mentally ill? None of us has control all of the time and we therefore should all be considered insane.

No. Perhaps I'll just shout shotgun and get a seat next to the driver in hopes that someday I'll have control, while everyone else just sits back and enjoys the ride.