'Everybody's talking at me, I can't hear a word they're saying, only the echoes of my mind' (The Beautiful South - Everybody's Talking)

3am and my mind is racing, thoughts blurring through my mind like an express train heading somewhere far away. Words and sounds blow through my brain like the changing tides, each though leading to another until they entwine and become each other. Nothing makes sense yet there is a perfect clarity to my thinking. Sleep seems pointless, there are so many other things I could be doing with that eight hour period and my mind won't stay quiet enough to settle anyway. Everything and anything seems possible as if someone has fed me invincibility tablets which have somehow lifted the fog of my depression and transported me to a fairytale faraway land which I now inhabit. Is this real? Will it last? Perhaps I'm not sleeping because I'm scared I will awake in the morning to find the cruel reality once more. A bleak and empty world in which I feel like a stranger. How do I convey this energy and zest for life I've suddenly discovered? Can I bottle it and keep it for a darker day? The rain keeps on pouring, cleaning the land and cleaning my soul as if the badness which once lived inside of me has been washed away. I want to dance in the rain and let it cleanse my skin, so many times before I have been compelled to stand in its downpours, allowing myself to become engulfed in the mystery of it all until nature and I become one. Only now I don't have the privacy of my own garden and I'm not sure I could explain my actions should I be seen by my fellow residents. They would assume I'd lost the plot, rather than understanding the simplistic beauty of the world around us. Still the feeling is still there, the same one which wants me to run and run as far away as possible to nowhere in particular and back again. Perhaps I should go away, take a holiday to some exotic land and just wander a different place for a while. Reinvent myself again and become something new, for surely I can be whatever I want to be and do whatever I want to do. These everyday rules which tie us down zap the life out of us until we all become mindless zombies slaving away to pay our bills. Surely there is more to life than this? Money is such a meaningless object perhaps living without it would make more sense. But what exactly does make sense, is there sense in anything or is everything just random in this choatic world? I'm not sure of the answer or how to find it, perhaps I'm asking the wrong questions but what are the right ones to be asking?