Crazy: ie; weird, different, informal, unique, impractical, bizarre, unpredictable, imprudent, misunderstood.
So I’ve been told, I’m crazy. I appreciate that. In other words, i do not conform to the societal standard of normal based on the geographical location of this cultured environment. The idea of normal is a collective conglomeration of pacified thought processes. A reinforcement of the need for acceptance (Human Condition #1 – Mechanics of the EGO). A group of people, maybe 100, maybe 100 million, that have agreed that their thoughts are most comfortable for them in union. They vindicate, validate, and praise one another for their perspectives, their positions, their opinions and their views. Then, in order to consecrate their stance, they point fingers, accuse, and judge others if their illusions do not fit their mold of reality. I embrace crazy like a hug from a good friend you haven’t seen in years, if that crazy is being defined as informal.
The socially stiff like to go out on Friday nights and get crazy, or refer to their feelings for a flame as “I’m crazy for her.”, or say to the skydiver “You’re crazy!”.. all of which indicate LIVING and EXPERIENCING! So it is interesting that automatons like to judge and condemn one for being “out of their minds” when all they want to do (when they are done playing their role), IS get out of their minds. Via drinking, watching TV, reading a magazine, or any other form of distraction. So, who is crazy? The ones that choose to conform to the collective paradigm of social agreement in fear of judgment or the ones that threw the box away and fly over the valley of the drones?
ACCOMMODATION DOESN’T MAKE A DIFFERENCE.
COMPLIANCE DOESN’T MOVE MOUNTAINS.
FOLLOWERS DON’T BLAZE NEW TRAILS.
CONFORMITY DOESN’T CHANGE THE WORLD… CRAZY DOES!
I’ve been told, I’m out of my mind. Perfect, that is exactly where I’ve been practicing to be. Out of the cranial prison of conceptual conclusions and into the heart of possibility, acceptance, and awareness. Our thoughts own us, and cause us to do their bidding like the southern slave owners of yesteryear.
Truth is, we’re all crazy, some of us are just better at pretending ??
“The true master of the puppet,” said in a deep, dark James Earl Jones baritone, “is your own mind.”
