Insanity, and back.

Today I had a tingling feeling.  In my frontal cortex.  It didn't stop so much as spread itself like butter over the rest of my brain, engineering itself to masquerade as part of me, as something essential that I'd previously overlooked.  Somehow my examinations weren't up to snuff.  And this feeling, something akin to the buzz of an out of tune television and a drill boring down into dense pvc pipe, also anchored itself in such a way that I began to doubt any previous existence without it.  It was an acute, though long lasting, hunger, if you will, one that I thought I could quench with food. One that I thought was at once alien and familiar, and one that was frightening because it made me feel so light, like helium, like I could float up and away and not come back, and that my gradual dispersal throughout the stratosphere might be, in a way, pleasant, or at least, that my cessation of being would be a relief.  At least, a relief.