My Crazy Friend
English Essay on "My Crazy Friend"
I have a crazy friend. He is really crazy in appearance as well as in behaviour. His mania is to do what none else does and to shun what others do. He is a tall and well built young man. If he washed his face and combed his hair, you could have called him a handsome young man. But we will not wash his face and comb his hair because almost all people the crowd as he calls them, do these things.
In dress, too, he has his own ideas. In winter, he wears white Cotton trousers and a dressing gown with half sleeves. He tells me that hi coat is a rare treasure, for it has remained in his family for full one century. In summer, he wears a black woollen suit and a cow boy hat.
His ideas and beliefs are all topsy-turvy. He does not believe in anything. Beliefs, he says, restrict freedom. His opinions are nothing more than passing fancies.educationsight.blogspot.com He does not hesitate in changing his views as often as he pleases. But he has a passionate belief in his SELF. “My self”, he says, “is sacred:” His own experiences are most absorbing for him and he believes his perceptions are the truest ones.
His sole mission is to protect his sacred self, for he thinks that the whole world is his enemy. He feels that some day ‘the crowd’ will either destroy his self or throw it into the sea. Once I told him that no one was interested in his self, so he should behave properly. He replied that the selves of the other people were rotten so they would take away his self and destroy it. I retorted’ angrily that their selves were not more rotten than his self. After this conversation my friend did not meet me for a week.
When I found him at last, he had become a bit of an anarchist. He wanted to do away with the very idea of government. But if you meet him some day do not tell him that he is an anarchist, for he hates anarchists. My friend was not always crazy. I remember the days when he was a normal, decent young man and washed his face and combed his hair, and did not bother’ about protecting his self. In those days he would have laughed away the fancies which now have taken hold of his mind. His troubles began when he met with an accident. He was taken to a hospital where be remained for a long time. There he met and came under the influence of another patient who called himself the genius of his age, and did not wash his face.
In dress, too, he has his own ideas. In winter, he wears white Cotton trousers and a dressing gown with half sleeves. He tells me that hi coat is a rare treasure, for it has remained in his family for full one century. In summer, he wears a black woollen suit and a cow boy hat.
His ideas and beliefs are all topsy-turvy. He does not believe in anything. Beliefs, he says, restrict freedom. His opinions are nothing more than passing fancies.educationsight.blogspot.com He does not hesitate in changing his views as often as he pleases. But he has a passionate belief in his SELF. “My self”, he says, “is sacred:” His own experiences are most absorbing for him and he believes his perceptions are the truest ones.
His sole mission is to protect his sacred self, for he thinks that the whole world is his enemy. He feels that some day ‘the crowd’ will either destroy his self or throw it into the sea. Once I told him that no one was interested in his self, so he should behave properly. He replied that the selves of the other people were rotten so they would take away his self and destroy it. I retorted’ angrily that their selves were not more rotten than his self. After this conversation my friend did not meet me for a week.
When I found him at last, he had become a bit of an anarchist. He wanted to do away with the very idea of government. But if you meet him some day do not tell him that he is an anarchist, for he hates anarchists. My friend was not always crazy. I remember the days when he was a normal, decent young man and washed his face and combed his hair, and did not bother’ about protecting his self. In those days he would have laughed away the fancies which now have taken hold of his mind. His troubles began when he met with an accident. He was taken to a hospital where be remained for a long time. There he met and came under the influence of another patient who called himself the genius of his age, and did not wash his face.
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