Wannabe Insanity...

I'm tired of people online who claim to be insane, or crazy, or high,, just for the hell of it, after which they continue to act and talk in an absolutely normal way...
I mean, half the blogs I visit have the word 'insane' in it's name...insanitypills, moodsofinsanity, insaneasylum...you get the idea...

What I want to ask is- Do you have even the slightest idea how it feels to be insane? Off balance? Round the bend? Few nickels short of a dollar?

If you ever reach that situation, pretty soon You'll find yourself start talking about things like barometric irrigation in the steppes of Antarctica. You'll act like a junkie monkey hopped up on pink marijuana, purple pills and that white powder you found in your hair. Speed beans from the mezzanine of Hotel Chupanime, make you scream like potassium hydrazine. Two steps forward, one step back, breakdance baby!, and then eight steps to the left is where you dig for the treasure of le Concubine, pronounced with an 'Aye' at the end.

After you get to that stage, there's really no going straight, so jump headlong into the delicious stupidity like a marsmallow in the chocolate fountain of ethereal fantasies. Hang out with rainbow coloured dinousaurs (but not purple ones, mind you...) and maybe they'll tell you the sqaure root of negative two, if you play nice and act right and don't get motion sickness as you drive down memory lane, they won't drop you off for a probing at Area 51...

At this point, you're probably wondering what you're doing going 120 miles per hour in the wrong lane, in a blue-and-yellow corvette screaming down the road, smelling like german leather, as you stare at the pale green sky. It's really great weather to be running through the heather inhaling that sweet ether (...or was it ester?). Showering in enols,thiols and some alcohol, telling tinkerbell not to hide the aldehydes when you're trying to judge your time of flight when you throw yourself off from the height of 18 squared feet...

According to your calculations, you should land smack in between two logicians who are arguing about the percentage constitution of their handfuls of lemon cherry pudding. I suggest you join the fun and tell them that the answer is one, to the power fotry eight parts per hundered, divided by 2 minus five + 3...

You might think It's plain to see, that I'm crazy, irrevocably, but realize that I pity all you chumps who act so silly, and ignore all the nitty-gritties of the fact that you cling to rationality, but feign insanity, you wannabes, and all the while you get your jollies from pretending to be an inmate of a rubber room facility...

If you read all way here, I hereby to put rest to your fears, I scorn your feeble attempts at feigning insanity. Until you really feel the strain that breaks your mind and burns your brain, you haven't cracked under stress- to be driven, totally, and intensely...mad...

So quit pretending, and leave the crazy to me, a'ight?