Some Call This Madness

As I began working on things that I haven't done in ages, other thoughts immediately began to pour into my mind. Tasks that needed to be performed, ideas that yearned to be materialized, worries that haunt my soul, thoughts that did nothing but constantly distract me from what I originally wanted to do.

*some time later* Godsdammit; there we go again.



Now, normally, when I get in this particular state of... well, I guess one could call it "existence," I tend to start typing things out on my laptop and then proceed to frequently interchange between "working on the 'task' at hand" and "having no less than 30 open tabs scattered throughout Google Chrome" to the point of insanity. Today is no exception, but there's a slight difference in my scenario as opposed to the other times I've succumbed to this madness.

Okay, maybe "madness" isn't the right word, despite the fact that a few of my friends would probably say otherwise. After some studying and observation, some would probably be inclined to disagree - they'd call me a fool and indeed label it as madness. At the same time, though, genius and madness are usually separated by a fine line.

Now, that's not to say that I'm calling myself a genius. I'm sure my IQ isn't that high at all (if anything, it was considered "above average" when I was younger, but I'm sure that's changed since then), and I'm not claiming to know any more or any better than most. However, how else do I describe this? I'm not sure if I know at all. Maybe it is indeed madness - a peculiar and manic bittersweet tonic. I call it such because it both rewards and punishes - all with ideas, with words, with hope and despair swung around like an out-of-control tetherball.

And the worst part is that these ideas will continue well into the night. What troubles me is the particular scenario for today's bout. For those of you who know of my situation, you'll realize that I'll soon be without power, which'll have me rely upon written words as opposed to words typed out. However, my wrist has had more experience typing as opposed to writing, so this may turn to be a painful venture as the night wears on.

But then again, maybe that's not the madness I'm experiencing... maybe my current state of affairs can be considered the true definition of my madness. Of course, I'd have to be considered "mad" for this to count, and while I consider myself a tad deranged... have I truly gone mad? Have I truly spiraled into a twisted state of survival that has warped me into... well, I don't know what exactly, but it's certainly not good.



Then again, maybe this entry defines madness. Unsorted, unabashed, unfocused and unsuccessful at getting the message across. Despite this, I can still rest (albeit shortly) over the fact that I'm not crazy.

Yet, at least. *deep breath* Let's just see how the rest of the madness day unfolds, shall we?