At the risk of sounding crazy

At the risk of sounding crazy…

Ok, before I can even go any further I have to implore my mind to find the reason why my mouth should utter such a sentence as, ‘at the risk of sounding crazy’.    I suppose my prefrontal cortex hasn’t been completely disposed.  There’s still a few soldiers up there trying hold down the fort, which is the metaphorical analogy of the physical reality of a filter that I have never really possessed, completely, or which came broke.

So, does that make me crazy?

I don’t know…I have hung out with my share of full-fledged schizophrenics and mostly always enjoyed the hell out of their company, but never did I hear them verbalize their worry of the possibility that they may be crazy.

Have you?

Now I went off track and I don’t even want to write anymore about what I intended to write.

 

 

 

 

I am a fallen angel.

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