I often wonder how people become bat shit crazy. I do not think that they are bright and cheery one day and the next day they wake up and burn down their ex-wives houses dressed as santy clause and shoot little eight year olds. I assume it has to be a general, ongoing process, that finally wears you down and walla you are bat shit crazy. Some days I wonder how long it will take me to go off the deep end.
I obviously do not feel crazy at the moment but do crazy people look at themselves and say "Oh man you are crazy". I sort of doubt it. Possibly that comes afterwards. Which is why they end up with bullets in their heads saving us the legal costs of a trial and incarceration. It just must finally click "Holly crap I am crazy! What the fuck did I just do!" *BLAM*.
Some days I wonder if I am wandering down the path to crazyhood (crazitude?). I would hope that I would not become one of the violent crazies. I would like to think I am more the bum on the street talking to himself crazy. I sort of even feel guilty when I crush that spider in the bathroom. I wonder if he had a good life. If I just orphaned his children. Poor spider. Are you in the abyss of blackness? Did I shorten your days. I am truly sorry to you.
I think I should be grateful for everything in my life. I have a lot going for me. I am skilled enough in my job to make gobs of money. I can fuck around with my employers and come in whenever I want. I can piss off and write crap all day long on the web. Since I am talented and can do what counts: get the job done. I have two really beautiful children. They probably keep me sane more than anything else. The boy is a lot like me which is kind of scary. The girl is so different that it is amazing. Fucking cute as hell. I love them a ton.
Some days I think I would be happier if I had a hobby like drinking or heroine. I mean at least I would be doing something. I could see the root cause of my destruction and know why I was self destructing. Perhaps I just want a good excuse. Something to blame.
Somehow though I have disconnected from life and living. I am undead if you will. Walking through the waking world with no feeling, no attachment. Just watching the days click off of the calendar. Each black day merging into the next. Rarely connecting with anyone or anything. I basically eat, drink, make money, wait for it all to be over. Head down the slope toward madness. Perhaps I have already jumped off the deep end and have yet to realize it. I sleep very little. I have no energy. Nothing is enjoyable past a few fleeting moments. Food tastes like ash. Which could be due to my wife's cooking but possible not. I just can't feel anything.
I think my spiral towards insanity keeps ticking off year after year. As I notice myself become more dysfunctional as time passes. I know, amazing thought, me more dysfunctional. I have no idea where this slide will end. I suppose none of us really do. Have yourselves a happy New Years though.