My madness may have been telling me that if there were no God, it would have been necessary to invent one. That being me, of course, as the delusions went. It has been said that some madmen, once cured of their madness, find ordinary life quite boring. I understand the sentiment, having thought that I played with the underlying guide-pins of existence itself, but I remember once when one of the cartoons asked me what I wanted most, if I could have anything; the answer was to have an ordinary life again. And a big step was finding God outside myself. Some mysticisms of course try and do the opposite, in finding the divine inside you, but it was only when I found myself in relation to a greater thing than I could comprehend that the world started making sense to me. I don’t know what the theology of this is, just that I did have a God-shaped hole in my heart, and thought I could fill it with myself. I had nowhere near enough love for that to work, I found out.
