Currently This

One of those nights where I don't sleep.

I hope it doesn't mean that I'm about to go around the bend. I hate words like 'mania' .

I have a cancer of the imagination - I'm too smart and think too much. I have to know the how and why of everything. Nothing just happens. Nothing just is. Nothing is a mystery. I analyze as an autonomous function of my brain. I see something neato, and before I have a chance to really enjoy it I have deconstructed it and classified whether and why I really like it. Everything has become pathology, hasn't it? Everything I do or think or say is a symptom of something else. Which disease is it a symptom of to like rain or paperweights or my eyes?

I wonder all the time - what if? There are so many diseases these days and what was 'A' last year will be at one or the other end of the spectrum of many under the umbrella of 'B' this year. Who really knows what is what? For that matter, how do we know what is what? How do we know anything is wrong at all?

What if there is NOTHING wrong with me? What if this is just the way I am and all this time, instead of taking meds, I could have been doing something else? Finding a way to turn malaise into a strength. Coming to grips, growing up, working with what I have, etc? What if I have medicated myself out of genius or into something else? Something worse? What if the pills and meds and doctors gave me something I never had to begin with?

What if I'm just one of those incredible morphing people? A natural mimic, what if I absorb pathology like a box of baking soda in the fridge absorbs odor? What if who I am has absolutely no idea at all who I really am and what if there is no really am?

What if this is it? What if I never know? Jesus Christ - at forty one, how much time has been wasted, how much time is there left to find out and why should it matter at all when I can comfortably just be a medicated, regulated pile of acronym du jour?

This is what happens when I don't sleep. Where the fuck did I leave those pills?