Box of Frogs

Sometimes I catch myself doing something normal like reading the newspaper and so I’m concentrating on the newspaper but not really thinking when suddenly I say to myself, “Aha!! You were fine for a minute there! Totally fine. Look at you, reading the newspaper like a normal person. Maybe you’re not crazy at all,” and then I feel like a fraud because I am either mad or not mad depending on a million different factors and a million different people who think in a million different ways but either way I’m alive but I wish I wasn’t and I’m going to die but I wish I wasn’t and so I go back to lying on the floor in the dark, and when I wake up I see the sun and my hair is in my hands and the newspaper has been placed over me as a blanket and the sound of my shallow breathing makes me vomit because I realise that I’m still alive and so I stay there on the floor for 4 days and think about all the people that told me that I’m fine and wonder which of them are just as mad as me