Has the world gone mad?

I sit and ponder this simple notion on a daily basis. Has the world gone insane, or is it just me? I seem to wage wars in my own mind over whether or not my sense is common, or if it is in fact the result of some eccentric thought pattern that I possess and implement with regularity. A common complaint of the human condition, is that people don't "understand" one another. I think that this stems from a lack of wanting to be understood. The brain is the only place that you can obtain true individuality, and to share that with others might negate the conscious effort to be "special."

Is it a reasonable action to grant someone access into your private thoughts? The ones you hide from society, your family and friends, perhaps even your dog. I believe that there is a location inside the self that contains all of a persons' unabridged hopes, fears, expectations, and harsh lessons learned. Theologians place this center in the heart, Scientists consider it the brain, and still others simply define this as the soul, or total being. In order to let someone pick apart your thoughts, there has to be an unmatched amount of trust involved. Trust that the observer/listener won't take your thoughts and hold them against you, slander your name, or use your own thoughts as fodder for your destruction.

For someone that has little faith in humanity as a whole, this is a colossal task. My soul is buried deep under layers of black humor, wit, sarcasm, and a general aversion to people that I don't know. I'd like to figure out exactly how to give someone the ability to walk around and view my thoughts as if they were an organized group of pictures, ideas, and philosophies. As it stands now, I have trouble verbalizing my idiosyncrasies to those I care about, because often they are mistranslated somewhere in between my cerebrum and my mouth. I bet it's the nose that the information gets distorted in. Damn nose. Either way, the verbage that falls from my sharp tongue could probably be considered mentally profound daft. I can't begin to describe the nonlinear thought patterns that govern the traffic of my mind, that no logical person could ever follow. There are no maps, no directions, and most of the time no real explanations. All I can offer are fragmentary hints at reason, that might or might not even be correctly percieved and cling to the hope that my loved ones aren't put off by my quixotic nature.

Maybe I'm crazy, maybe I'm not. You might be the crazy one, for all I know.