Riding the Tides of Crazy

I stare at a key board, the dull glow of the inviting screen welcoming my fevered attempts at typing, because the purpose of the enticing device is to be used for typing, informing, questioning and the exploration of a meaning into the existence of the conundrum that is the human condition.

My overall ability to care, give a damn and general concern for the fact that I have to at least appear to be half decently human is according to this blog ‘lacking’ as explored in a future post positively entitled ‘I am a crap human but a decent person’… please hold back your cheers and load up on anti-depressants!

I also highlight the again ‘lacking’ ability to hold, maintain and at the basic level even begin a relationship, such ethereal concepts of emotional currents a drowning force for the jaded and the broken, a group I fear to which I hold a lifetime membership (not by choose!). In fact I think this entire blog is a bleakly overcasting monument to my eternity grade negativity, although the words ‘Depression can be funny, you just have to be depressed to get the joke’ springs to mind.

There are people in this world not attuned to the idealistic ‘normal’ that gets thrown around in modern phraseology as highlighted in ‘Emotional flavours’ and for that I am both thankfully and mournfully minded. On a scale of 1-10, 1 the depths of depression in all its hellion glory and 10 the sunlight heights of positivity normal would be placed in the exacting mid range of 5 for all its mundane splendour.

If everyone was a 5, where would the ideals that are fuelled by extreme logic find their impedance and inspiration? But the catch is to be a number ranging outside of the 5. Too high in the rarefied air and resentment from the lowers is earned, too low in the depths and frustration is incurred, a simple yet annoying truth for someone lurking in the region of 2.53 I can assuredly assure you!

But hey, positive thinking time and all that moronically merry jazz as from the hazy rooms of moon lit blues I raise my weary head, so here goes:

  1. If life wanted me dead it would put a sweet a bullet cure through my head
  2. Life ain’t that crap, it just feels that way for a 2.53 on the scale!
  3. I’ve already taken a beating on a whole bunch of fronts and I’m still standing
  4. If Life wasn’t a challenge I’d be bored to severe levels

So this hell hound is going to ride the tides of crazy, take a heavy dose of whatever keeps my survivalist nature ticking and throw a few uppercuts at life on the way so hip happy hurrah and one for luck!

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