Rogue

There are sometimes moments in my life when I feel as though I am a psychiatrist walking through the streets of an alien society brimming with insanity.

Okay, so I am paraphrasing from Joseph Heller’s “Catch-22”, but it was too good of a line to pass up.

As it turns out, for every logical action, a contradiction, and for every illogical event, complete reasonableness. There is wisdom in the completely absurd, and folly in sagacity.

Is it really enough to drive a relatively sane individual to the brink of collapse?

Perhaps I too, am not a mere observer of the lunacy, but rather a reluctant player.

But am I active or passive or active, playing in a state of subconscious indifference?

Is it conceivable that I am an active player who resists the temptations to fully submit? Or am I no player at all, but simply examining, inspecting, monitoring, and dissecting the chaos?

Just who the hell am I anyway, and how do I relate to this existence?

When one hurts, another comforts, yes?

But is it not equally true that when one hurts, others also run?

To be sincerely content is the universal goal, is it not?

But the state of true complacency is synonymous with ignorance so we are told.

A solitary existence is thought to be melancholic

And yet, that very seclusion springs forth tranquility.

The study of the human condition is a noble enterprise

But uncovering universal truths sets people apart

My God! No, mine! Our inherent right! No, ours!

And through it all, I coast along, attempting to manage a relative calm

And through it all, I struggle to assuage the anxiety