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If insanity is defined by doing the same thing over and over expecting different results, what’s thinking the same thoughts over and over expecting different results going to get me?

Exactly. And I think things over at least five hundred times more that I do things over. That’s how I give things credence: repetitive thought. It must be true somehow – I’m thinking about it all the time.

I play a game of telephone with myself until it would seem the story was passed around an auditorium. It’s from this distorted vantage point that I would make my move. Way up high on a craggy rock. Or hiding out in the sewers. I needed to come at you high or low; makes for better striking.

Premise: As long as I’m doing the next right thing, I can think whatever crazy, messed-up stuff I choose as long as I don’t act on it, right? Loophole alert – how’s that helpful? Because it allows for indulgences. There’s a big difference between a destructive thought rambling through my brain and quickly being shown the door, here’s your hat, what’s your hurry, and inviting it to stay and take up residence on the sofa. It becomes an allowance, a pet. One I can’t afford to feed.

I know when my head’s clear. It’s when my heart’s calm. And vice a versa.

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