Read, eat, read, sleep, repeat…then go mad.

I’m hungover. My head is beating thumping loudly against my skull. I can’t think straight. My thoughts are a painting even I can’t understand. Everything that should be clear is ambiguous.
I’m drunk on books. I’m high on philosophy. I’ve been constantly reading for the past three days. Too much of everything. This thing is going to kill me one day. I can’t ever manage to do something just right. Either I won’t do it at all, or there’ll be nothing but that.
Stupid, stupid, stupid.
It’s the first time in my life that I regret reading. I regret listening to music. I regret everything that has happened over the past three days.
I finished reading Inferno on the first day. The next morning, I read all the quotes I could manage to by Charles Buwoski.
Needles to say, I fell in love with his ideas. How it shook me from within when I read. “Find something you love and let it kill you.” It still sends a shiver through me.
I was half mad by the time I picked up The Great Gatsby. By the time I finished it, it was nightfall and I was full mad.
I laid down for an hour and over thought everything in my life. Had I really taken up some things which would backfire? Was I in love without even knowing it? Was I really doing something with my life or just existing? I needed answers and I wasn’t getting them. I tried talking it out with a few friends but… They’re my friends, and sane answers cannot be expected from them. Aakhir dost bhi to mere h 😛
Then, because I am was mad anyways, so what harm could John Green do?
Too much.
Looking for Alaska and The fault in our stars are the only books which made me cry after Harry Potter. I hadn’t cried over the death of a fictional character ever since I’d felt great grief over the death of Cedric Diggory, Sirius Black, Dobby, Fred Weasely, and others that died during the battle of Hogwarts.
If people were rain, I was a drizzle and she was a hurricane.”
And now, I’m in the middle of reading Paper Towns and I feel like I should be in an asylum.
Why? Why this? Why that? Aisa Kyu? Aisa Kyu nhi? Why the hell do I think so much? They’re just books. But they’re not! No book is ‘just’ a book. It’s another dimension or reality. The more I read the more I go mad and the more I go mad the more I understand.
Nothing just is. Everything is…but nothing just is. You get it right?
Just when I thought that I was going normal, I started doing stupid things and reading four books in three days.
I’m mad. Yes, very much so. But I know that I’m mad and therefore my madness cannot be concluded for mad people don’t know that they’re mad. But I am and I know!
During a seminar I attended April, the speaker said that the more time you spend thinking the more you get to know yourself. And knowing one’s self is the most important thing. It’s also of utmost importance to be true to yourself.
To thine own self be true ”
The thing is that… I know this for a fact that I’m insane. I think the problem lies in another fact which is that I wouldn’t trade my insanity for anything in this world.
I love the fact that I’m mad. I love it when my mind thinks 10 things at once. I cannot stop praising my ability to be everything at once.
Take away my madness and I’m nothing. My life is ordinary and nothing scares me more than being ordinary.
Some people never go mad…what horrible lives must they live!”
You know what?
I’m magic. Everyone is. I’m magic, I’m a genius and I have a fire within me.
The problem is that no one knows it but me.


2 thoughts on “Read, eat, read, sleep, repeat…then go mad.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s