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More Than One Kind of Crazy

Occasionally we should expose the wackier lobe of the brain
in order to better appreciate the more sensible side of the mind.
     ~THIS is one of those times...

I capriole between my arabesques fugaciously spasmodic in fluxes and leaps indifferent to their misanthropic mocking and cheeky syncopated schisms BUT LET THEM SCOFF! I derogate their arrogance in silent smirking repudiation for they know not of the decoctions spating rapidly through my veins, nor of the massive assemblage of my miscelany grey and white matter. The mordant humor of this absurdity is that I am irrationally rational... psychotically speaking; I am dripping with percipience sagaciously intelligent beyond the measure of those cretins who kvetch, pule, and postulate that I am strabismic and nonsensical as a loon. After reading this write of gelastic absurdity, it's become mereticiously opaque to me that my discourse is oxymoronic, OR I am a dimwitted addlepate. There is more than one kind of crazy!
********************* A translated version of the above nonsense, so now Jan doesn't think she's hopelessly lost. I dance as if I were a ballerina, a total klutz, but I don't care if they laugh at me. LET THEM MAKE FUN! I don't care if they smirk at me because they don't know what I feel or think. The funny part of my silliness is that I'm really rational, pretending not to be. I'm really smarter than I look or act so let those idiots say that I'm as crazy as a loon. Now that I've read these words, it's clear to me that nothing I've written is clear. Soooo.... I'm either clever at writing an oxymoron OR I'm crazy.

Copyright © Lin Lane




Book: Shattered Sighs