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Society pressures us to act normal. It is better to bottle your despair and animal urges than express them. If you do, you're weird. You're crazy. You need help.
But if you don't, and you keep every little thing bottled and labeled, you're normal.
Comforting, Jess thought, staring ahead. In fact, it was so comforting, that he repressed even questioning society's rules.
His cigarette had burned down to his knuckles, but he didn't ditch it yet. He sat outside her place, staring at the empty street, hearing the rage of the avenue down the way.
It must take a lot to finally let go of control and express your demons. The people on the street that talk to themselves and wander aimlessly, screaming at everyone who dares look at them are the sane ones, Jess thought. They have figured out the system. They know that being crazy is struggling to act like everything is okay, when it isn't. They fucked being polite a long time ago.
He had been outside her place for forty-five minutes chain smoking. He had almost finished his pack, but since she didn't let him smoke in her house he figured he better get it in before he went inside and sacrificed nicotine for sex.
One addiction for another; an even trade.
If the crazy people are really the sane ones, what did that make him? Jess lit his second to last cigarette. He often had the urges to act out and wreck everything in sight, but instead he put his nice clothes on and talked about how nice his new couch was. It was pretty fucking nice. He wanted to fuck Hallie on it. He wanted her stains on its perfect white cushions.
If his conclusion was correct, than he would be crazy. But society already saw him as crazy, so that would make him sane. But would being crazy in society make him crazy with the crazy people? Or would his pre-exposure to insanity make him an immediate member of the sane society?
Obviously, he didn't have to express his inner urges because his immanent insanity allowed him to be normal with those who understood the backwards system, while his ability to repress his wants to destroy and scream gave him the sensibility that society looked for in a sane man.
"There," Jess said out loud, sucking in the smoke. "I got it."
But if you don't, and you keep every little thing bottled and labeled, you're normal.
Comforting, Jess thought, staring ahead. In fact, it was so comforting, that he repressed even questioning society's rules.
His cigarette had burned down to his knuckles, but he didn't ditch it yet. He sat outside her place, staring at the empty street, hearing the rage of the avenue down the way.
It must take a lot to finally let go of control and express your demons. The people on the street that talk to themselves and wander aimlessly, screaming at everyone who dares look at them are the sane ones, Jess thought. They have figured out the system. They know that being crazy is struggling to act like everything is okay, when it isn't. They fucked being polite a long time ago.
He had been outside her place for forty-five minutes chain smoking. He had almost finished his pack, but since she didn't let him smoke in her house he figured he better get it in before he went inside and sacrificed nicotine for sex.
One addiction for another; an even trade.
If the crazy people are really the sane ones, what did that make him? Jess lit his second to last cigarette. He often had the urges to act out and wreck everything in sight, but instead he put his nice clothes on and talked about how nice his new couch was. It was pretty fucking nice. He wanted to fuck Hallie on it. He wanted her stains on its perfect white cushions.
If his conclusion was correct, than he would be crazy. But society already saw him as crazy, so that would make him sane. But would being crazy in society make him crazy with the crazy people? Or would his pre-exposure to insanity make him an immediate member of the sane society?
Obviously, he didn't have to express his inner urges because his immanent insanity allowed him to be normal with those who understood the backwards system, while his ability to repress his wants to destroy and scream gave him the sensibility that society looked for in a sane man.
"There," Jess said out loud, sucking in the smoke. "I got it."
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