Crazy is…

Crazy is an omnipotent force that knows my innermost thoughts and fears. Its goal is to keep me subdued and in its grips. The darkness is absolute. A few may light a match, but they are quickly snuffed by the lack of fuel, and all seems lost. 

In a rare moment of bravery, I light my own match and ask others to synchronize theirs. As the darkness lifts, Crazy screams in pain and fights back. The flames flicker, and I begin to lose heart.

I desperately look around and notice kindling on the ground, invisible until now. The matches are dwindling quickly. We launch what is left of this effort onto the bits of dried straw and twigs I had hidden even from myself.

Its ignition begins slowly. However, the more fuel that catches, the more fuel I see. I know now that the fuel was always there. Crazy is not who I am. It will always be there lying in wait for the flames to die down.

It is not me anymore.

I have an endless supply of fuel within myself and some donated by others to combat the darkness. I just need to keep fanning the flame.

Prose circa 2016 during a battle for my life.

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