My Journal

-The Fine Line-

STORY 6

The death and triumph of my sanity used to be an insane theory. That was, until I discovered the true meaning of having a lack of patience and self-control. You may think you're long-suffering, but fall subject to the suffering of going mad. And you may assume you have optimal self-control, but lose that control to the inevitable bubbling feeling of losing patience. It's an endless cycle almost impossible to overcome. Almost as impossible as regaining sanity once it's lost.

The path to insanity is coaxing, trying to win over my sane subconscious. Many obstacles tantalize the freedom of simply being insane. Not having to think logically, idolizing the fact that having the self-control to remain sane is too complicated, therefore deceptively persuading the short-tempered and poorly controlled.

I walk hesitantly along this path as we speak, trying hopelessly to ignore the foolish decoys threatening my every move. I barely dodge the obstacles in a weak attempt to assure the certitude of my sanity. Though, the path is tediously dragging on, and my patience is failing to withstand.

Invisible bullets shatter through the pliable wall of my discernment. The fine line between insanity and sanity is beginning to blur like the dust being sprung up from every bashing shot. If I were mad, I would already be long gone. But I press forward, rebuilding my shield. I patch the flaws in my transparent barricade with bandages of sanity and determined self-control to hold fast my now unwavering patience.

To win the war, you must wait out the battles.

Insanity mocks those who walk along this path of long-suffered trials. The bullets turn into missiles, but cannot crack my shield. Sanity joins the war as my ally, slowly defeating the enemy while positioned on the fine line between the two worlds of the mind. I stand firm on my side of the line, simultaneously patching up the remnants of what I know to be true. I look over to Sanity desperately, who gives me a knowing smirk.

I know what is about to happen, and I brace myself under the stronghold of my shield. A bomb explodes in the near distance, knocking me and Sanity back. The fine line is now disintegrated into nothing, and the two worlds merge together in a horrifying alliance. The path I had once shakily walked is gone, leaving me wondering where I stand with no line to distinguish my mind.

I am no longer sane, though I am not insane. I am somewhere in between, drifting along, always searching for complete sanity, but sometimes falling subject to the ways of the impulsive insane.

We may have barely escaped the battle, but the war shall live forever.