Creativity or madness

This room has not one element of someone else, it is all me and all mine. The artwork on the walls is made up of children's illustrations, I'm sat here with a paper mache alien and a scrubby Indian giraffe named Jerome. There's definitely remains of the inner child scattered about this cage and I wonder if it proves I'm slightly mad or very creative in truth I favour the madness. If there is no madness then how can one distinguish a sane thought process from the bizarre and its always the bizarre that I write about. It's stopped raining, that's a sane thought, why it matters is bizarre but it always fascinates me when it rains.