If not insane
then what would our personalities be?

If not rugged, ragged, run-down and dishonest
who would believe our sordid stories?

If not belittling, bothered, begrudged and bedridden in the winter
how could we say we know suffering?

If not full of rage, hard up for luck, feelings of consistent and persistent self-doubt boiling in intoxicated heads,
could we regard ourselves as interesting?

If not all of this,
then what?