Can’t decide what’s the fittest title.
Do you believe that anything is possible?
I guess I do – if “possible” means a chance that things are going to happen/be proved happening/happened. Keyword: chance. ONLY a chance and it doesn’t really mean it is an indisputable fact.
Is it possible that I have a mental disorder?
Now before you come into conclusions, let me elaborate. That was really a random thought. It’s not that I’m not feeling myself lately. In fact, I feel delicious! I’d say good but the delicious is the best good word, so it fits in better. Not that I’m thinking of food/sex always. Not really.
See, I think there is a very fine line between sanity and the world beyond. There are so many categories of mental disorders these days that a seemingly normal person might actually be diagnosed with one if he consults with a psych – ologist/iatrist.
It scares me.
I mean, who decided first on what is normal or not anyway?!
*!!!OMG, help!!! I can feel my brain turning into jellybeans! Focus! FOCUS!!!*
Where were we? Right, I really think life is either one big mystery or a very bad joke it’s funny. Maybe both. And it’s because of these things we call Differences.
It’s because of Differences that man’s life went on as it is. When we first realized we were different from the other two – legged freak, we saw this as something that separates us, causing us to feel a myriad of emotions – shock, confusion, curiosity, fear – but fear, being the prince of the Emotions, reigned and led us to sought a solution to fix the “Difference”. So we naturally look for other people who share the “same” interests with us and pounce on that being who is “different”.
It’s a big joke, right?
For no two humans are always alike. Elementary. We’ll always find differences with anything and anyone. But we whine it’s too difficult to live with that. So instead of living with our differences in peace, wars started, labels multiplied, groups of people broke up and regrouped with others only to do so continually but with different sets of people.
Is it stupid? A bad thing, so to say?
Maybe it depends on the kind of difference that caused it all.
We can say a “Good Difference” is one where no moral code is violated, and the “Bad Difference” violates something.
So is it a Good Difference between I, a “perfectly normal” person, and someone who wears a neon green cape for daily use? It doesn’t violate anything except my highly intolerant, aesthetically-inclined eye which I guess doesn’t matter. It doesn’t make him/her a bad person.
So is it?
Probably, but not for that Batman – wannabe since he may just have guaranteed himself a spot in an asylum because shrinks call him “histrionic” at the least who has an inclination to butcher gay people.
And is it a Bad Difference between I, again a “perfectly normal” person, and a human being who kills another human being without the common sense of being a cop or a soldier or a doctor first?
I guess it is.
But what if he kills a person who is planning to kill hundreds of other people to gain a.) Power b.)Money c.) Both d.)Nothing, he just likes killing?
Is it still a Bad Difference?
Sometimes I think I have ADHD. But no (Denial phase! Watch out for Anger!), not really. I just need someone to have a stimulating discourse with, but I guess a lizard could be inadequate for that. So next option is (no, not self-talk since I have enough of that. Enough!) to write and hope to disturb the unfortunate reader/s’ beliefs and ideologies. Truth is I don’t even know what that word means.
It is inevitable for me to end with a conclusion that life really is one big ginormous barrel of joke. I am so done trying to make sense of it. I leave that to ye, oh noble mind doctors (but I’m ready to bet you’d pass the curse to the nearest person after a few more years or so. But no fear, I won’t be telling anyone except THAT malicious monkey reading this, so you can go proceed with your practice).
I guess the point of survival living is not to make sense of everything but to find the ability to remain complacent without anything making sense.
Yes, that should be it. (Big grin)
Now, I could sleep.
Oh Lord, you really are a joker. Good one. Good one.
P.S. I shouldn’t be a nurse. I’d infect my patients with the JellyBean Brain Syndrome before they could even shout for help.
P.S.S. To any mind doctor with the misfortune to read this, can you give me a diagnosis? Of course, I couldn’t pay you but you might be stupid and kind for all I know.
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