Anthony and the ole man.

"I am insane. Seriously crazy."

"I was getting around to that conversation."

"It's not clinical. It's not pharmaceutical supported."

"It may need to be."

"Listen. It is not the type of insane that can be treated with magic. It is a current state. It cannot be fixed with any conventions. It is a insanity that comes along with this existence. It is like air."

"What do you mean it's like air?"

"This Insanity is married to Oxygen. I said it. Insanity is one of the building blocks of life."

"Your insane."

"Yes."

"Where is all of this coming from?"

"That's easy. It is coming when I lay down, not when I go to sleep, that is a surrender. Sleep is a surrender back to the insanity."

"What do you mean?"

"I'm talking about a time in your day when you can be an observer. In sleep you are taken over again. I'm talking about if you just want to close your eyes. You just want to lay there for a minute. Lay there quietly. You know? Just take a silent break and listen to your thoughts."

"OK."

"I'm not trying to out run something. This is not a meditation class. I just want to inhale and exhale and I can't. What it feels like is cotton in my ears and it feels like there is an old man upstairs in my head dragging suit cases on rollers across the floor. He wants to get in the way of my thinking. He doesn't want it to be clear. he wants it to be riddled with anxiety. He needs it to be. He is trying to contain me from something big, that I cannot discover."

"Does he have cicadas in his pockets."

"Yes."

"It can't be that serious."

"It is. It is very serious. It is the greatest most intense melodrama on earth, that no one wants to read. No one wants to be on the hot trail of.

"The ole man upstairs?

"Yes."

"You sound insane."

"This is everyone. This is you. Your just using Cymbalta."

"I use alcohol."

"I've abandoned many of my vices so I can hear how fucked up I really am. I can hear how difficult it is to make a decision. I can hear this ole man up stairs vying for my attention, but he's hard to make out. He's just there to promote this insanity with his movements that came along with my birth. He doesn't want me to try to understand how absurdly insane he is. He doesn't want me to figure out that I am not insane at all. It is just him."

"It could all just be clinical insanity on your part.And also it doesn't explain why so many people have to take psychotropic drugs from depression to bipolar symptoms."

"This is causing that shit. I'm talking about the possible origins here, like trying to find that knocking sound in your engine instead of using the volume on your radio to ignore it. The insanity I feel started with birth and will--I believe, end if I get rid of this ole man upstairs. The more distracting and confusing the Ole man is to my thought system the more I and other people will look and sound crazy and need drugs for medical conditions that don't fucking exist. I want to look at the fucked up internal regions he is trying to create in my head.That gulf between me and peace.

"You could just use alcohol."