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Non-Experience12:22am friday, 17th october
I have had to delay my trip for two weeks, and I don't really want to go into why. It's a bummer, but at least the pace at my job has slackened a bit; I have a chance to breathe a little.

To the thought for today: madness is not so much filled with experiences, but non-experiences: things that never happened. It took me some time to come to face these things, four years after I had pretty much recovered to start writing about them on this site. There was much I didn't want to remember, much I just didn't recall, much of my life that I just wanted to throw away to the winds and move on. I had become a messiah and an angel, I was the Antichrist for brief periods, I spoke to Albert Einstein and was hounded by Aleister Crowley. None of these things were real, none of them really happened, though during those times, I could not say that. These were my reality, this was my truth, and nothing could stop me from believing that I was being let in on some secret that no one else knew, that what I saw was the underlying actuality grounding all things.

I suppose you could call it frustrating, with a touch of futility. But there was one element of all those non-experiences that was real: me. Freud said that dreams were the royal road to the unconscious, and I might view my madness as something like that, things hiding from the light of conscious view coming out into the open, a long, long dream while awake. I can investigate what those visions meant, pertaining to that one real element of myself. Whether I meant to or not, too, I grew while in that fugue of mad dream, emerging back into the world at large a little older, a little wiser. Really, I can't complain. Some of those non-experiences, those things that never really happened, were full of pith and moment, not without something like joy, if not quite. I'll take what I can get.


  x8:12am friday, 17th october
Maybe that was the point of it all; to find the parts of you that were hiding,(for whatever reason), to make sense of a world that is actually crazy most of the time and to accept your part in it?

  caintheexile5:21pm monday, 20th october
The worst thing about madness for me is how high you rise before you fall. I think that's one of the reasons it's so hard to communicate to people, those who'll never understand the rapture and the ecstacy that intertwine with the agony and the torment. Being mad's not like being stupid, or being so self-involved that you lose yourself in yourself, it's about being Icarus, and flying so high that your wings simply melt. And dear Christ, is it a long way down.

I call it rapture. But don't take my word for anything. I went mad, y'know.

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