The prison of ‘The need to make sense’

Is the need to make sense the major vice like inhibition I have?
Maybe nothing makes sense in reality
What is ‘making sense’ anyway, besides a constructed illusion?
A complex illusion but nevertheless unrealWhat if everything is basically non-sense?
Am I really sane? OR Is being sane just a belief structure/mythology I hold onto?
What if the belief that I need to act sane is the very trap?
What if my need to make sense is the very prison?

Sanity is a restricted form of insanity
Insanity is where freedom lies
Sanity is like the paved path in the forest

Insanity is the whole of the forest which includes the paved path

I need to let go of the need to make sense
If all of what is going on is basically non-sense, then it is my complex illusion (holding on) that I think ‘my sense’ is not the same non-sense that is there all over realityI’m withdrawing my emotional investment from everything
Since nothing makes sense to me anymore
Everything appears to be empty, all paths appear to be empty

This perception of emptiness paralyzes me

But what if emptiness of everything is the point of existence?

If something were real, then how can reality be infinite?
Would that so called ‘real thing’, limit reality in someway?

Aren’t my actions, thoughts, words, writings, all of it, just a random celebration
As spontaneous, meaningless and senseless as a bird chirping?
How is my stuff any different from something totally meaningless and absurd?

Its all the same space right?

Does existence really care if something makes sense?
In the way I believe it should make sense?

Isn’t reality far vaster than my interpretation of it?

I always cared about the content
I always cared about speaking the truth
But what is this truth I care about, besides a small part of reality I hold on to as a filter?
What difference does it make whether I dance with meaningless joy OR sit seriously and solve the riddles of existence?
Aren’t both of the actions just games?
Isn’t everything ultimately beyond meaning and meaninglessness?
Why cling to sensibility, meaningfulness?
Each person is like a crow, croaking nonsense
And I am also a crow, croaking my nonsense
This is a nonsensical croaking celebration
No matter how serious a crow may sound, no matter how advanced his language might be
No matter how serious his face may appear
It is still all merry croaking nonsenseDo not be misled into thinking, its anything else
Apart from merry absurd nonsense
There are infinite kinds and types of non-sense, that’s all
But its all nonsense
The nonsensical ecstasy of existence.
Doesn’t this nonsense pique your curiosity?

Isn’t it hilarious?

Identification –> Investment –> Rewards/Satisfaction –> Reinvestment –> More rewards –> …Hooked cycle….
People are invested in all kinds of non-sense this way
But I’m paralyzed because I want to invest in something that makes sense.
So I’m holding back on all my emotions like the deepest in-breath you can take
But I cannot release it on anything, since everything is nonsense
This is creating a lot of super stress in me
But what if ‘what I think is sense’ is also the same nonsense?
Then would there be any reason to hold back anything?
Then why would I hold this gigantic in-breath and suffer?

Learning about enlightenment is like the most gigantic inbreath of knowledge you can take
At the peak of this breath (collection/accumulation/insight/knowledge)

Is the ultimate release
Is the hidden truth of the nonsense of everything

Of the absurdity of everything

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