The Line Between a Writer and a Crazy Man

I spend a lot of my life in my head. Some of my longest conversation occur when I’m alone. When no one is present or in need of my attention I talk to God, I talk to myself, I talk to unreachable friends and foes. I question, plead, lament, and interject. I rehearse what I should have said, could have said, or will say if the opportunity arises. I follow thoughts to their profound or foolish conclusions.

In the courtyard of my mind, I argue with talk show hosts, radio pundits, and every other irrational purveyor of cultural wisdom. I speak to my peers, my denomination, my city, and my world. I practice acceptance speeches for awards I will never win. I work on sermons I will never be asked to preach. I communicate to the masses, to those in power, to the unreachable influencers.

I imagine conversations with Grandpa Bursch, Uncle Steve, and all those who have entered their eternal rest. I wonder what Carol, my sister in Christ, would say to me if she had the chance. Would she tell me to “go for it!”

When I’m alone and sad, I listen for the encouragement of the saints departed. I seek Carol Hund’s encouragement, Wendy Hendrick’s laugh, and pastor Mike McIntosh’s prophetic insight. I look to the stars and ask my Lord, “Why did you take my prophets away from me?” God understands the question. He understands why I need to ask it from time to time.

My mind has a habit of racing. Sometimes I enjoy the ride, other times I just want to stop thinking. When I see a homeless man talking to himself I think, to myself, I can relate. Seems as though the biggest difference between my marginalized friend and me is my mouth refuses to cooperate with my brain’s need to talk.

What an odd time to be living. The divide between a crazy man and a business man is a cell phone earpiece. All it takes is for the earpiece to fall out and the man to keep talking.

It seems blogging, Facebooking, and Twittering have become socially acceptable ways to talk to one’s self without being committed. If I wander down the street speaking to no one, I’m crazy. If I post a daily blog that no one reads, I’m relevant!

I think this is why I enjoy writing. I don’t do it for the money, it doesn’t grow my church, it takes far too much time, and I get little recognition or fame. However, it does fulfill my need to communicate. Every once and a while I get to write down a conversation that has been swirling around in my head. If I write it down, it makes me less crazy. Or maybe it makes you less crazy. Or maybe there are far more crazy people out there than we first realized.

Either way, I’m going to keep writing these thoughts down. They look better on the page than they sound wandering the streets.

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One Response to The Line Between a Writer and a Crazy Man

  1. Ron Ciraulo March 15, 2012 at 1:59 am #

    Doug, I’ve been sure that there were others out there besides myself who have the same experiences as you’ve stated here. I’ve even alluded to them to my friends from time to time. However, as I was reading your post, it almost seemed as if I was reading my own thoughts. You’ve hit it right on the head! Thanks for taking the time to share. If nothing else, you’ve given expression to a fellow “talker’s” experience. By the way, I love the thought about the similarities between a crazy man and a business man . . . it’s so true!

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