Day 70

Day 70:

I am always moving, 

yet I am stopped.

Conjuring, then dissipating just as quickly,

the unknown pasts and impossible futures.

Biding my time, waiting,

for everything and for nothing.

Unwittingly perpetuating the same cycle,

the prorogation of our lives,

awaiting a return that could never come.

Always pushing, but still dragging,

our feet being pulled from pillar to post,

but still sitting and waiting on the same benches,

hoping to be called.

Sleeping, then waking, expecting things to be different,

getting frustrated and alienated from expectations,

falling further and further from your idealisation,

your visualisation, 

of how things were meant to be.

Insanity is to do the same thing over and over,

and over, 

and to expect a different result each time.

Insanity is to leap beyond and try something,

something that nobody has ever tried before.

So how can one not be insane,

when insanity is mutually inclusive?

We all must either do the same things over,

and over and over,

or try something new, 

that nobody has ever thought of.

So we are all insane?

Or is this the definition of sanity?

Of human nature, to either walk well-trodden paths,

or deviate, venturing into the unknown,

beckoned by the unquenchable thirst for something new.

Am I insane?