Some jumbled manic thoughts

Rice expands my stomach and so although it is used to make meals feel filling it actually makes me hungrier.

I don't like this perverse attempt at control I am supposed to exert over my life, it is too boring and stressful for me.

I am the funniest person I know because I find extremely serious things to be funniest of all.

I can't get a literary agent because none of them can afford to put time and effort into "the financially unrewarding field of poetry".

I don't care whether I am successful or not because I am.

I am so happy that I don't really mind so much that I am not really fulfilling the plans I had planned for myself and my life.

I don't mind, I really don't.  So many people love me and there are so many places to go and so much to do that I couldn't conceive of boredom or loneliness except momentarily sometimes just to remind myself what it feels like cos I guess there are quite a few people in this world who experience these things and I want to empathise and I want to write about how they feel cos maybe I feel this way sometimes maybe I don't but I certainly used to feel this way and I got over it and maybe they can too. 

Maybe I am just arrogant and self-righteous.  Maybe I truly am from another planet.  Maybe we all are.  Maybe I am special.  Maybe we all are God, maybe we all are the reincarnation of the Son, the Christ, the Divine Manifest On Earth.  I don't know anything more than anyone and nobody knows much if anything.  I'm not sure whether my writing is a more accurate description of the universe when I lay my thoughts out clearly and structurally or when I go mental and have page-long sentences and thoughts that diverge into all sorts of directions.

Everything is just a big jumble of influences anyway isn't it.  We can observe this on a quantum level.  Things appear and disappear.  Influences come from all directions in time and space.  Reality is fluid, maleable, interesting.