Crazy. It is a word us as humans use constantly to try
and describe an abundance of things. An ex-lover, a test, a human mind perhaps. In Edgar Allen Poe’s short story, A Tell-Tale heart the main character is carefully
depicted as a “mad man”. On the outside of the story, he is this placid man
slowly descending into his own personal hell of what is his mind.
Right before midterms we feel this sort of panic. The
way our blood rushes through our veins with fear of failing all the way to how our
heads ache with the slightest touch. We are the mad man in simplicity Edgar Allen
Poe is trying to exhibit.
We all run in circles. It is completely inevitable. Much
like the “mad man” we all have crazy thoughts. Maybe not about murder or
anything underneath that realm, but in reality, it is only easy to slip in our
own sort of madness.
One day we will find the thing that makes us go mad.
It might be years from now or even tomorrow if the cards are dealt that way.
Once you do find your madness, hold on to it. It might
be the only thing that keeps you sane.
The future is honestly so inevitable.
It pains me to write this because of how much cliché is
admitted off of it.
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