I am so horribly tired. That wonderful word so full of life has drained from my bones, the word ENERGY. I do not know where it is or I could start a slow expedition towards it.
I wonder why I hold onto this image of a happily employed me. I should let it draft in the air to where it can find a more capable owner. It is funny that I have been Bipolar for so many years (6) and have not found wellness. I have even moved up in the ranks as Schizoaffective Bipolar. Medication, I guess, is not a silver bullet. The famous Three (1: Education 2: Medication 3: Therapy) can be replaced by one simple word, energy. This is all I need, but my brain is too confused by my illness to deliver it properly. Finding wellness and fighting my illness require the energy that I have lost.
I really do not know what to do.
Then I saw your voice, mutely bright Though I dream, Endless Flight you are beyond my little kite Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star Deep inside a firefly jar
I cleaned for a guest,
and the guest came
and the guest made chocolate moose.
I was given a massive serving of moose,
and am waiting for my stomach to be ready to finish that serving.
Kanon Wakeshima’s second album came in the mail,
but would not work on my decades old boom box.
So I had to use my decade old Walkman
(My hand-me-down first generation iPod Shuffle has been missing for months.
I plan on wearing it as a necklace in about a decade so I hope I find it.)
I am in the process of forming my opinion of the album.
I do not know Japanese so my opinion will always be second-rate.
I once had the option that telling my story would help someone else, but I have come to realize that concepts remain concepts. They are just meaningless words. My path will not be your path. We will each come to understand less than .01% of all the concepts thrown at us by people who believe it will help us.
I’m buzzed on decaf coffee right now. Therefore I have motivation to write a poem and make a post. How does coffee do it? I’m full of creative energy or at least the sudden need to not be quiet. Caffeine is a wonderful thing or at least the concept of it. In the distance I hear the music of a festival.
The dogs around me keep on farting forcing me to stop writing to cover my nose with my hair. This is one of the many uses of long hair. You take a big fist of hair and place over your nose. The hair helps filler the smell as you breathe through the nose. In the place of the stanch you will notice the smell of shampoo. (Another use is to cover you breasts when you don’t have a bra.) Well I’m out of coffee. So goodbye.
my mind is an electric board filled with short circuits
reality is wavy around me
when seeing outward everything is misty
faith and fear all mottled together
my face is a clear view to my soul
I can feel it showcasing all my weakness,
my sadness, my isolation