I am a Monomaniac...

Voltaire called the Frenchman La Harpe:
"An oven which was always heating, but which never cooked anything."

I think a lot of my monomania comes from such an oxymoron like inner life. That life between dream and reality, vision and sight, prophesy and experience can be a trying desert that can make men mad...

Oscar Wilde said that "the problem with being a dreamer is that you see the dawn while everyone else is still sleeping..." that's a frustrating thing. It often breeds disillusionment or at least an agitated temperament sometimes.

I stand guilty as charged...

Pray for me.