>The Proof of my Insanity

>I have all of these ideas in my head, all of them swimming around and aching to get out. They keep me awake at night, they invade my dreams, they manifest themselves in front of me in the windows, in the music on the radio, in my brain. They're all there, and if I could get them to come out so that I can say that I created what I had already created in my mind, I feel like I would make a lot more sense to myself. I think that all I'm doing is proving that I'm more insane than I previously thought.

Every time I go to release these [words][lyrics][music] from their bondage in the prison of my head, I find myself physically incapable of doing so. I see their faces in the walls.

There are faces in the walls.

There are voices in my head.

They are awesome voices, and if you could hear them too, you would agree

Hamilton Barber

The subject of this page is an introverted writer/musician/lunatic from Chattanooga, TN who dabbles in lexical dexterity, unorthodox thoughts on prosperity, and being overwhelmingly undeserving of the privilege of waking up every day. He hopes that everybody who reads these words takes them to heart and leaps higher than he ever could. He reads, thinks, and speaks too much; he listens, works, and loves too little; and he says “I” entirely too often. The words on these pages are not his: they are the words that were given to him.