At the end of the day, “sanity” just means that you agree with everyone else, you approve of the arbitrary status quo. But I don’t. It’s like being on a rollercoaster, that weird thrill of having the ground just fall away, the whole world drop like a spinning plate and you realize you’ve never been standing on it. The rational machine is whirring away, doing its job to make sense of the data. It churns out rational explanations, perfect bricks of logic coming off a conveyor belt. It will happily slit its wrists with Occam’s razor.

A few years ago a scar mysteriously appeared on my right arm. It was the rune Raidho, backwards. I showed this to people and they immediately began weaving incredible theories which they defended as a logical explanation. One friend explained that I must have gotten drunk some time back in college and as a gag one of my friends decided to carve the rune into my arm. I somehow forgot about it until I saw the scar almost a decade later. His mind recoiled at the thought of something just appearing from nowhere, which it had.

My therapist studied the scar very intently. I presented my theory about a demon leaving my body and he suggested that it left the scar as a mark of its passage. This seemed a more reasonable explanation than the drunk college night scenario.

The scar has been fading gradually over the years. Only the long back of the R is visible. What, don’t *your* scars disappear too?

So I don’t really have a use for your status quo. I shouldn’t have to apologize for the things I have witnessed, for the damage done to me. There should have been real help. Not the doctors trying to sell me some drug.