One thing that makes my world more sensible is the nonsensical.

Absurdity is an art form—the masterpiece

of a lunatic. It is watching Puck, there, gone, and back again—

this time to marry off an ass.

 

Absurdity is that wild laughter and those ludicrous tangents. A parcel of non sequiturs.

The lack of bewilderment at the bewildering.

The wonderfully inexplicable—

A coin landing on heads ninety-two times in a row.

The painted tears of a clown.  

It is a violet Cheshire Cat melting into a

glinting grin.

Everything is what it isn’t, and everything that isn’t is

Particles fizz in and out of existence

And I think that if I stop accepting the limits

I can surpass the impossible.

The world becomes a Why not?

 

Absurdity is trading your last cow for a handful of beans.

Befriending the moon-man.

Building another Babel.

To risk it all for the slim or nonexistent chance of success.

Just take that shot.

Build a friendship.

Fall in love

Sometimes, it is not the success you are looking for.

Sometimes, the irrational things in life can be the most beautiful.

 

Absurdity is the time before Innocence or Experience, existence or sin.

It is conjunctions where you least expect them. All the detrius

And trappings of life, all the exciting odds and ends, the crazy wonderful moments

That you tuck in your pocket for a rainy day.

Absurdity is following the loop-de-loops of a Dalí dreamscape, off the edge of the world.