In the confusion, there are moments when you feel sane. You can see the straight path in the midst of the chaos— or it may just be a sudden contraction of temporary blindness.
Nevertheless, in that sobriety, you can sense…something that is not doom. And in this moment, you know that something must be — has to be — wrong. What right have you to be levelheaded when the water has risen six feet above your head? Absolutely none.
So you’re tempted to invite the chronic panic of counter-productivity back into your mind so you can feel correctness in the shatters.
Logic loses meaning.
Some things shouldn’t be right.
The Spider Kid's Blog 
I’m going to pretend like I got it the first time. ;’)
Well hey, you don’t have to understand. LOL. I’m trying to prove to myself and the world that you don’t always have to use poetry to convey your emotions in a cryptic way.
And goodness knows that stressed people don’t make sense. After all, stress is the buildup of nonsense.
So basically you used cryptic language to tell us not to be cryptic? ^^