We all have some degree of insanity within us. For some it is harmless, for others not so much. I am fascinated by the latter one. This weekend I paid a visit to and abandoned asylum. I felt like I was at home there. Not as in a patient, but like that is where i'm supposed to be. I can't fully explain it, but there is just a pull toward the place. It seems like a place I would want to go to during the summer to just sit and think oddly enough. The thoughts of what went on there are terrible, however the stories and history are rich. Most times I feel I am more insane than others around me, and other times I feel like the only sane person in the room, So where is the line between sanity and insanity? Is there one? If there is, it is blurry as all hell.