Life is full of ironies. Let’s dive into one, shall we.
This year, I have been to hell and back. Actually, I am not yet back, I am still crawling and fighting my way out of something I don't yet fully understand. Let's use a good metaphor, shall we. I am stranded in a fog, and I see a mental asylum in the distance. I sure, as hell, do not want to be anywhere near a madhouse and a place full of morbid, inexplicable creatures. But, after fumbling in the haze with nothing to go on for day after day and month after month, I find my feet treading the road to that dark, accursed place which surely would zap every last bit of my already flailing soul. But maybe, sometimes, insanity is the shortest route to a special kind of sanity. Thinking that you only find yourself after you have lost yourself, I checked myself into the madhouse.
The asylum is interesting. Everyone in there pretends to be sane - I know not why. We are expected to work in teams towards a common goal. Soon enough, I started going insane. Their debilitating madman routine of pretending to be sane drove me to the edge and into an abyss of a numb mind. They were delirious and feverish, their minds enslaved by this weird notion: they were saving the world; they were super powerful; they were sane and brilliant. I was awed by their need to be so delusional.
One day, the alpha madman came up to me and said, you are besmirching our hallowed organization with your smirk and smug beliefs about how we are all insane. How dare you. Follow me and I will show you how sane we are. I was led through the cold, dark, dismal and narrow corridors to a grey, dull and drab - data analysis lab. A man was hunched over at a desk, his broad shoulders and beefy frame shrouding the monitors from view. As we got closer, he turned around and waved at the two of us. A proud smile settled upon his face.
We went over at the desk; there were two monitors displaying an intricate system of graphs and charts. The alpha madman asked the analyst to pull up a graph indicating the sanity level of the asylum. A flat line indicating 100% sanity exploded across the monitors with the caption – Sanity statistics. See, there you go. Don't ever question our sanity again. I squinted at the screens, took a a few seconds to grasp the significance and true meaning of what I was seeing. I realized that the line chart stood at negative 100% and was red in color. The alpha then proudly and excitedly asked the analyst to pull up my sanity report. I was at positive 70% sanity in green. They were beside themselves with happiness and pride. Who’s more insane and who’s saner, you tell me now. The numbers never lie, the alpha madman spoke in an ecstatic tone.
I smiled and checked myself out of the asylum. If they could have read my thoughts, they would know I was thinking: life was full of ironies. The relatively sane consider themselves to be insane and the relatively insane consider themselves to be the model of sanity. The bright ones think themselves to be stupid and the ones who are ignorant consider themselves to be intelligence personified. The ones who question are ridiculed and the ones who fit in are glorified. The ones who are honest and shy are exploited and the ones who lie and are cunning are rewarded. The ones who create more noise are actually empty and are merely reflecting the noise of the world whereas the ones who are silent have deflected the noise of the world and come up with their own unique, thoughtful melody. Think of it this way. Reflecting the noise of the world is like being a moon. Deflecting the noise of the world is like being the sun. And, it’s the sun that breathes life into our universe and not the moon. And yet the ones who create more noise are hailed as bright, shining stars. Tell me, we don’t live in an ironic world or in a sea of madmen who believe the most absurd of the things, and I will call you a madman.