Crazy, Normal
Crazy, Normal
What happens when you can't distinguish between me, myself and I?
Do you die, do you cry, do you run out and kill 500 people with a dull chainsaw?
Or, does nothing happen?
Rumors on the street say you go crazy.
But I don't trust rumors.
I guess I'll have to find out for myself.
I'll get back to you when I go crazy.
But how will I know if I do?
How do I know that we're not all crazy and going crazy doesn't mean becoming normal?
But then crazy is normal and normal is crazy.
That would be fun.
Except we wouldn't know it because crazy is all we've ever known.
All we've ever known would be crazy, but we wouldn't call it crazy it would be normal.
And the normal people would be crazy.
But I can't put my perspective on this.
Our society is different.
We couldn't say crazy is normal and normal is crazy.
Crazy, Normal.
That's all we have, that's all they have.
Whoever "they" means.
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