Disordered Insanity.

“Schizophrenic”, they say,
“He is delusional,
So blind to reality.
Look at how he walks and talks.
Oh, just why is he so paranoid?
Not the ‘voices’ again!
He is insane, who is he talking to?
Why can’t he be normal, like one of us?”
How do I tell them
That I am normal,
I am just a dreamer,
For it’s safer in my dreams,
And there is no thief,
Aiming for my mind and fortunes.
My only friends are my voices,
Enemies too.
For they are the only one’s
That do not think I’m crazy.

They say I am disordered,
Obsessively compulsive.
“There she goes again,
Washing her hands
And suspecting foul play.
Why won’t she stop these antics?
All this distress
Over insignificant details,
It is unhealthy.
She ought to learn
To be like one of us.
She must let go.
This behavior is turning intolerable.”, they complain.
But how do I tell them
That the table must be
Precisely five feet
From the bookshelf
Or damages could occur,
And my hands must always be clean,
For my immunity is weak.
I am normal.
I only require perfection.

They say I have a disorder,
They call it Agoraphobia.
“Why can’t he overcome his fears?
Crowds are not as unsafe
As he perceives.
Staying cooped up
In his home
Will get him no where.
Someone make him realize
That it is abnormal
To not explore the world.”, they taunt.
Somebody tell them
That I am a normal man,
For whom the world
Is too dark a place,
One I do not wish to see.
It is safer at home,
For it is my only refuge.

“Disgusting, insane.”
I ‘suffer’ from objectophilia.
“She ought to go for therapy.
It is not normal
For a woman to possess
Sexual feelings
For an inanimate object.
Not when there are
Desirable men.
How can an object satisfy
Her humanly needs?
She must learn
To trust humans
And their emotions.
For what could an object
Possibly give her?”, they wonder.
Someone help me
Show them that
Objects have feelings too.
I would rather invest
My effort and emotions
In an object, than a human.
For it will not hurt me,
I cannot deal with pain.
I am normal,
I only prefer to spend my energy
On something that
Makes me feel secure
And assured.

Someone tell them,
We are not always “normal”
But sometimes wish we were,
Only to be treated as equals.
Someone tell them,
That we are only afraid.
And we need reassurance,
Not taunts but love.
Someone tell them
That we may seem insane,
But can the world not appreciate
The insanity of a genius?

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