I've never met a sane person.
I've met people who've learned to feign sanity in certain controlled circumstances. For example, consider an executive who exudes authority and solidity at work, where she's spent 20 years learning to seamlessly exhibit confidence and competence within a narrow and controlled set of circumstances and parameters. She may, for instance, turn into a dysfunctional lunatic outside that controlled environment, where she's forced to respond spontaneously to a noisy array of nuanced, unpredictable situations far beyond her minuscule comfort zone.
Or the dreamy, soulful well-liked dude with infectious swagger who displays perfect confidence and comfort in social circumstances, but who may spend 20 hours per day in bed, or host colonies of vermin amid piles of leftover food (I actually had a girlfriend like that, who, to the outside world, personified glamour and accomplishment). The super-mom who gets it all done may be addicted to pills, or cry herself to sleep every night. One or the other half of that happy, loving couple may, unbeknownst to anyone, be living a lie, but has learned to put on a face of sunny contentment.
We can scarcely imagine the desperation, depravity, and delusion experienced by everyday people when they're not squarely upon their most well-traveled roads. If someone strikes you as sane, that's just someone you haven't gotten to know. You've seen that person operating within their zones of comfort and competence, and/or faking it. But if you watch carefully, everyone's batshit crazy; it's just that some of us hide it better than others.
Although, come to think of it, do you know who's sane? The selfish, nasty bastard who spits venom and lives in unremitting contention with his world. That guy demonstrates absolute consistency and stability. No private life, no crippling doubts, no existential issues. He's never not that person. He makes it happen, with nary a waver, every moment of ever day. Also, the loudmouthed conspiracy theorist is rock solid; never destined to be felled by gluten sensitivities or knocked off-kilter via errant remarks or petty indignities. His shtick - his mask - serves perfectly well in every aspect of his life. He's utterly immersed in his role.
Unhesitant about their places in the world, these folks are each a single solid thing, anchored to the ground so solidly that the universe appears to spin around them. They are never not functional. Unless some chemical imbalance arises in their brains, they'll be resolutely grounded to the bitter end, never once dropping out of character.
Only the assholes are sane.
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