It is in my blood
I can feel its presence
When it’s on the verge
To emit a surge, every time my heart beats

An impulse,
Scurrying it’s way through the crevasses of my brain.
Tainting the walls of grey matter with a tendency for unpredictability,
Out of my reach.

I hate it
I don’t want it
I never asked for this

I can’t slow my mind down
Thoughts so fast, hit me with whiplash
It’s insanity.

No.

I’m not insane
I can’t be
I’m rationale

I think about how I think about things,
Like it’s a cycle that never stops..

Which I guess could be my downfall
My vision says it all
When thoughts travel my mind
In dark tunnels at times
My eyes blind to the surroundings

Tunnel vision that make you claustrophobic;
You feel trapped
When all you see at the end of the tunnel,
Is the darkness of insanity

But..
I’m rationale

I acknowledge I have a tendency to be blind to my surroundings,
How can I be blind if I can clearly see?
Is life objective or subjective?
I just want to understand--

You're stupid —
What was that?
Felt like a surge, on the attack
An impulse

That voice
That’s it.

Unpredictability

That lies,
In my brain waiting to be brought to the surface
With the surge of an impulse.
It’s the insanity that taints me,
From seeing what really is

I’m not stupid, I’m a learner.

Granted with the gift of analysis,
But darkened by the cruel nature of impulse
To taint my minds innocence

I'm not scared to think about it anymore

I am insane, because it’s what you make of it.
Insanity grants me with the gift of perspective,
Throwing a million different ones my way
Ones that are positive and ones that are new
Traveling at hundreds of miles
And this even includes

All the negative perspectives as well

At the times when I don’t want to hear them.

Insanity must be embraced and never repressed.
Repression tells you no don’t do that, it’s wrong.
When insanity isn’t embraced, it is feared.
When something that’s inevitable is feared
You’re no longer insane,

**You’ve completely lost it.

I wage war
That's never been seen before
Is sanity worth fighting for?
I'm not really sure

Insanity?
A calamity?
I call it individuality!

Who is Society
To create this hypocrisy?!?
It seems like such a tragedy
To waste such ingenuity
To dull the creativity

I had never thought about little things until now, until I had become displaced and detached. Little things like the scratch of grass against bare feet and the little crunch noise that undoubtedly breaks the blades of grass... But natures green carpet always bounces back immediately. Perhaps the noise of tree branches, being tangled, tortured and embraced by strong southerly winds in the middle of a steaming hot summer, should have held more importance to me back home. The art of appreciation and great-fullness  is so easily lost amongst the concepts of time, greed and the incomprehensible human need to succeed.