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And it's depressing. Not so much because of what I write, but because what I write is true. And I don't have to write it for it to be depressing.
It's us that go insane because it is insane. Because we feel it. Things don't have to be useful, as long as most think it's useful and don't feel. That's not delusional.
Those whose feelings, their intuition, guide their thinking, feel how what most think is wrong, and might think others either know that or want to know that. That's delusional.
It's depressing.
Do I make any sense?
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Mania kills cells. Brain cells die. Memories become more reduced conceptually, making more efficient use of limited means. Memories shape our reality. Our memories are more or less split in two by abstractions, conceptual reductions. Mood states with memories, concepts, attached. Memories of pain and those of joy. It causes instability, changeability. Fearing that will leave an emptiness between pain and joy and a greater divide.
See Me, Feel Me, Touch Me, Heal Me.
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