Desperate Cry for Help 008

We're all living on a planet called Earth. A little ball floating in the inky void of nothingness. It makes no damned sense to me whatsoever.

It's like I've spent my whole life, like everyone who ever was, has spent every moment inside of a single building, a single idea, a mote of dust in the garden of forever.

There's this whole big, infinite, amazing, fantastic, transcendent universe out there, and most of us on earth have never been more than 5 miles away from our homes.

How in the hell did we all come to be walking on the surface of an oblong spherical thing that's whizzing around a nuclear fusion explosion at an insane speed?

That can't be normal.

Nothing on this crazy little ball can possibly be normal.

And yet they want ME to be. They want me to fit into their little boxes so they can check them, and kiss them, and feel good about themselves.

I don't want to fit.

I am going to be the square peg forced into the circle hole. I will be the exception to the rule, the fly in the ointment, the elephant in the pickle jar.

I just need to make sure everyone is as crazy as me - so we can all be sane together.