I would have said it earlier, but I couldn’t think of how. Then I remembered that whatever I might be moved to say might not be understood anyway. It might even be called crazy.
It’s not that hard to be a madman in the desert. Or a madwoman. All you have to do is put on the animal skin, scavenge for food and drink, and spout mad wisdom. If The People of the City hear the mad wisdom, they remark: that’s mad.
One person hears the madwoman or man in the desert. That second person agrees with the first, only more so. The first madman in the desert takes small comfort in the less lonely desert. The terror of the true believer strikes the madman at this less lonely time. Where the madman or madwoman in the desert once had one true belief, now two thoughts come to mind. Someone else has heard me, but that person sounds like they are nuts.
So it has always been. We find ourselves in others’ eyes. We find our own courage and more in others’ beliefs. So be careful to whom you look for comfort for that is who you become. You could do worse than look now to the mad who later will be known as wise. You could now look to the one they call leader whom others will later call a fool. What is in the present called mad will only later be called wise.
So I held my tongue until today, when I discovered I am not crazy alone. There is at least one other voice in the desert, also called crazy. So, I speak now that he might hear me and also know that he is not crazy alone.
Thank you, my brother, for your understanding. The world is a much better place with you in it.