Six Degrees of Crazy

I always thought that the road from then to now is the most interesting of all trips. Every so often, something crazy gets in the way. It's crazy!

Then again, maybe this is how we grow up.


1st degree of crazy: If you don't get what you want, throw tantrums.

This is what brats are made of. And it starts with the innocent demand for milk during the phase in our lives when can hardly talk. Some grow out of it. Unfortunately, some don't. I'd like to believe I have--at least for the past 4 years, I have. Hihi. Crazy.


2nd degree of crazy: I must be adopted.

Too much TV made me this crazy. ...crazy enough to consider the "adopted theory" when everyone, including me, can see that I look exactly like my mom--that is, mommy less 23 years.


3rd degree of crazy: I feel different; I must be crazy.

This happens when hypochondria haunts one's psychology. Adolescence is that tough, I really thought I was crazy.


4th degree of crazy: Life is just sooo friggin' sad.

The perfect cure? Allow me to go a bit spiritual... COUNT YOUR BLESSINGS! And my present mantra on this goes: "Life is soo friggin' sad to someone who wants to stay soo friggin sad. For all it's worth, I'd rather be happy."


5th degree of crazy: I miss the people who matter to me...so much it's driving me crazy!

At some point you just go wild and find yourself in front the building of your college in the middle of the night yelling with all your might how much you wish you were home whereas the reason why you were far from home was because you initially wanted to run away from home. Crazy. Really.


6th degree of crazy: At the brink of happiness, you find a loophole. And so, cloud nine crumbles. But instead of running for your life, you stay.

This is perhaps the craziest crazy yet. The crazy I have yet to overcome. Crazy, isn't it?