I have drifted into a realm of existence that most will not in this life. Hence, I fade more each day as I wonder deeper into the deepest trenches of chaos. The enlightenment of the mind shows pure meaning of life after death. How do I express myself thoughts without being seen as disillusioned? Or perhaps all my life believing I was not crazy shows me that I really am insane. Why must we call ourselves something? Why can't we all be poets, artists, musicians, lovers, designers, teachers without the title? I am still an outcast among misfits. Believing in the impossible. As I write, I am drinking my bottle of red wine listening to "midnight sonata." Trying to figure out how #Miller , #Nietzsche , #Murakami and atlas my idol #Kafka knew how much to make their pain into beautiful art. Perhaps I suffer from illusions of grandeur. I forgive you, but I am not crazy! -Alexander C.