Insanity 2-the meaning of being lonely
In English, the word "sane" derives from the Latin adjective sanus meaning "healthy". The phrase "mens sana in corpore sano" is often translated to mean a "healthy mind in a healthy body". From this perspective, insanity can be considered as poor health of the mind, not necessarily of the brain as an organ (although that can affect mental health), but rather refers to defective function of mental processes such as reasoning. A Latin phrase for "sane" is "compos mentis" (lit. "of composed mind"), and a euphemistic term for insanity is "non compos mentis". In law, mens rea means having had criminal intent, or a guilty mind, when the act (actus reus) was committed.
Stop comparing yourself to others.
Constantly sizing your life against other people's is a sure path to Crazytown.
There will always be someone better than you and there always be someone worst than you.By accepting and making peace with the person you are,you'll shut out a lot of negative self-talk and open up your life to good times.
~''Suffering has been stronger than all other teaching, and has taught me to understand what your heart used to be. I have been bent and broken, but - I hope - into a better shape.'' -Charles Dickens
~''The deeper that sorrow carves into your being the more joy you can contain. Is not the cup that holds your wine the very cup that was burned in the potter's oven? ''--Kahlil Gibran
I love the feeling of being lonely in a state of mind..love myself fill in with the pain and isolated.I love the less expectation I get around me.Indeed am I out of my mind but I love the Metallica Unforgiven song and Nothing else Matter instrumental cello by Apocalyptica that's make me weep.The music so lovely and lonely itself and in the end we were by our self.
Now...I know why I don't like to answer my hp,reply my msges and sosialized with others when not feeling to.Coz I bound to my solitude.When one lived alone for many years,that's what she's became.
Then,some of my student express a tendency to be a follower of my blog..no no no...the answer should be non no no.I won't allow.(I tried so hard not not blog at my table but somehow they saw it and asked 'are you blogging?Can I be your follower?').
I love my privacy.And this blog is my medium to express my feeling,my insane,my healing,my stupidity and my everything.It's the only channel to pour the infected liquid poison in my brain.The blog-It's expanded my thought and is like my diary (remember in oldies day-Doggie Howser M.D).
I just like an anonymous reader or someone from the other side of the world to read my blog.Someone never know me and can't judge me.Not a guys next next door.yes,indeed i am obsess with my own blog coz it's my own mind.Obsess with myself?no..just obsess to a blog being postered with insane lonely monologue.Haha.
Everyone have a empty spaces in their heart.right?
This situation same goes to the underground writer or underground musician which don't want to reveal themself in mainstream area.They tend to remain mysterious,poor,unfamous,unidentified as long as they have their own privacy,their own thinking and can produce their works on their self-being.As long as they doing thing they love most.The product may not be popular,not famous but they just don't care.
|You look so damn good|
|“For me, insanity is super sanity. The normal is psychotic. Normal means lack of imagination, lack of creativity.” |
~Jean Dubuffet quotes
If you can keep your head when all about you
Are losing theirs and blaming it on you,
If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you
But make allowance for their doubting too,
If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,
Or being lied about, don’t deal in lies,
Or being hated, don’t give way to hating,
And yet don’t look too good, nor talk too wise:
If you can dream–and not make dreams your master,
If you can think–and not make thoughts your aim;
If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster
And treat those two impostors just the same;
If you can bear to hear the truth you’ve spoken
Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,
Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken,
And stoop and build ‘em up with worn-out tools:
If you can make one heap of all your winnings
And risk it all on one turn of pitch-and-toss,
And lose, and start again at your beginnings
And never breath a word about your loss;
If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew
To serve your turn long after they are gone,
And so hold on when there is nothing in you
Except the Will which says to them: “Hold on!”
If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,
Or walk with kings–nor lose the common touch,
If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you;
If all men count with you, but none too much,
If you can fill the unforgiving minute
With sixty seconds’ worth of distance run,
Yours is the Earth and everything that’s in it,
And–which is more–you’ll be a Man, my son!