Don't Stick It In Crazy

Crazy is wonderfully exciting as it struggles against dissatisfaction. Crazy tries to scratch an itch it can't quite identify, using rituals of pleasure and illusion that combines consumption of sex, drugs, and religion in search of temporarily escape.

There is no greater freedom than total abandonment of purpose. Living with crazy allows you to experience the limitless it derives from not being connected to the actual world, nor even very interested in it. After a while, you can sense what it will do next, and when it fulfills expectations you still marvel over how much secret suffering it endures to pay the costs of its recklessness.

Crazy people often have above average intelligence, which somewhat saves them from the immediate brunt of their actions. Their baseline state is troubled, and basic accomplishments evade them despite faking the appearance of competence and healthy goals.

They will tell you they desire an independent life of an unstable person. Mission accomplished! Were you to have access to their earlier years, you'd see the pattern that forms an extended history of nutty dysfunction, trapping a broken soul in marginal living.

Origin: there was never a masculine figure in their lives able to halt crazy exhibitions and impose stability.

Towards mutual dismay, you can't get anywhere with crazy. You can only have great moments, soon destroyed by atrocious decisions and appetites. Anything good in your relationship will be negated by a perpetually lurking binge.

It's nothing personal, and almost nothing ever is. A bumper car smashes about in a mess out of compulsion and power of possibility, sure to be stricken and liberated to strike others in an orgy of collision.

The crazy stumble about in dazed wonderment, like a fighter repeatedly stricken in the head. Every lasting pain was supposed to be innocent fun, but left high hopes and promises in shambles of free fall letdown. When they eventually realize they did it to themselves, the enemy in the mirror comes into full focus. To neutralize this threat, they retreat from themselves and all they know -- to start over with nothing, realizing everything so far was colossal error.

It follows that the more radical the change, the better, switching from a known constellation of defects to an unknown system they've heard championed by others of dubious wisdom, honesty, motives, and reason. Yeah, but still -- could any random path really be much worse than their perfect record of missteps? More correctly, it is not their traits that need to be suppressed and artificially replaced by fakery and pretension, only the purpose and manner in which they focus their traits. Crazy has little perspective on its actions, and even less on its remedies of self-abnegation.

The wholesale replacement of their will, values, and ideas instills a new person, namely a phony one constructed to match their notion of venerable expectations. They don't really think their adopted assumptions and conclusions are correct or truthful, but merely useful for the character they wish to exhibit to inhibit their overwhelming impulses.

The crazy wild streak exhausts itself and becomes a boring rule based robot no longer interested in much more than safe avoidance.

Perpetual fog is terrifying. What do you do when you can't see towards any edge or beyond? Madness reigns untamed, attempting a conception of rules to fake sanity, needing to extirpate instincts that were never mastered towards positive aims. Hollow husk! A sad creature occupies its shell, carefully limiting movements in order to reduce multiplicative errors sure to occur from unhindered exercise of poor judgment.

Souls too need to be maintained or else there's nothing to salvage when the self-abuse finally ends.