Mad Money
Aug 27, 2017 · 1 min read
The time will come when my madness is the source of someone’s profit.
Or it won’t, and I’ll be quiet about it.
But I keep writing, I keep speaking, and I keep encountering the same stumbling block:
Literal professionals expressing an inability to understand the way my mind works.
So I must believe myself mad; normal humans can be understood, and none understand me even as I try to make them.
And I’m full of entertainment. Stories of messiahs whose holiness is naught but pain, stories of kings who make the world perfect just by being, stories of vampires now. (I hate that I’m having fun writing a vampire story.)
For now, my madness is a reason to fear, hate, punish, and mistrust me. One day, it’ll earn somebody a buck.
Good luck.
