I think I know what it feels like to go crazy. It's a pregnant frustration. I've seen people dance it; I've heard Kanye rap about it. You don't quite know what's wrong, but somehow the world is playing (or you're playing) the wrong key. This silent grating continues relentlessly. It's like listening to Wagner; there's always that dissonance. Even the resolution has dissonance. Only this version isn't beautiful. How is a man supposed to cope, when he can hardly state what the issue is? I have ferocious ambition. It's consuming.
I fear that this state will never resolve, because I can't find the model I'm looking for. I see no life I want. Everything is a little too much somebody else, not enough me. I look to Warren Buffett, Isadora Duncan, Steve Jobs, Morihei Ueshiba, Lao Tzu, Alcibiades, Rumi, Whitman, countless others. My body shakes, my thought blurs. I don't intend to be a "gentleman philosopher." I'm not reading because I like it. I'm laying groundwork. I'm defining possibility. And yes, I feel like I'm behind some measure of what my life should be. If I could be anything other than this, I would consider it. Maybe.
What is left when you feel a tiger inside? The world feels like a zoo. Only I know that's not what the world really is. The world is a wilderness, therefore I need a paradigm shift. Maybe I'm the zoo. "What immortal hand or eye dare frame thy fearful symmetry?"
The shaking continues.
