an ode to insanity

Here, I'll let on a little, its nuts, i live here, in this shell of a head, trying to make sense of this spinning blob of sensory material that tries to relay a message, and i actually believe it to be true, but what thee hell, who the fuck, what the fuck am i to even trust my final vocabulary to make sense of reality, to create reality, to define it, to even conceive the idea of reality. what is reality, do we know? are we, well what is we? we, or me, or you or i, who says its real, who says any of it has any basis? where did it emerge fro? that's why religion was created, to explain this unknown. no body is an atheist, we all believe in some form of reality. we bind ourselves to it. everyday, we are in constant worship. what the hell? are we biologically wired to accept religion? no, that cant be. the concept of biology is another creation of humans, or is it? was it meant to come about? was it part of some plan?