Consciousness and clarity I take to mean the same thing, and to be as unatainable as the flame to the moth.
the closer we fight towards the flame, the more intense the heat and the light burns so much brighter, the clarity is so unbelieveably close to here and everything makes so much sense and then the pain starts in, the burning, the reflex to pull away, to sit in a quiet room, watch some television, drag myself kicking and biting away from the real to the mundane, the sensible, the plannings, the dull monotony that is the fake world we pull around ourselves to stay sane from the delicious bright burning reality constantly beconing with hands of fiery logic and a glint in it's eye that embitters me and reminds me incessantly of what I could be, with madness it's only price.

..and so very cheap.