Echoes of Avarice

      Some victories- some avarice only satisfies in the moment, but the amusement only lasts until it's over, forcing us to go and seek another hollow ascendence. Whether it's drugs or sex or being a workaholic or money hungry or  any number of hidden/ selfish desires, they always seem to escalate. For me, I will never look at my Snickers and have a "What am I DOING to myself??" Moment. It's a cycle of comfort, much as the drugs for a stoner and the sex for any number of people- the warmth in the moment of peace and belonging. There is no need to remind us the actions are harmful, deep down we already know. The balance due seems worth the reward in the moment.

      You don't need to be bipolar to identify with that.

      I feel like the identification of a behavior is enough reason to change it. Acknowledging the consequences show that it has been given thought, and the risk is worthwhile to the individual. The freedom of choice allows us to make the decision, even to the perceived detriment of everyone. When it gets to the point that the individual wishes to change, they will. Every drunk must have their drink,  and if you rip it out of their hands, it becomes a power struggle.

Two Moods, One Mind

Do not resist

The voices of dissent will wash over you.

Do not fixate

The options are limitless,

And a clenched fist

Gathers nothing.

Do not panic

The thoughts that fly past you

Electric and elusive

Will come into focus in you calm.

Do not give in

To the despair that clouds your mind.

It is fog on a California morning,

Obscuring your sight from the beauty

That you inhabit.

Do not settle

You deserve to be with someone

Who finds happiness in your joy,

And peace with your pain.

Do not remain stagnant

There is much for you to experience

You are capable of great moments

Where those who stay still

Are not.

Do not compare

For you are even more unique than many

With an ability to see and share the world

In a way that only very few are able.

Do not forget

That which makes you flawed

Also makes you extraordinary.

Self is Sacrificing

I'm losing my hair in the sink;

I have lost my friends to honesty;

I have lost my will to carry on

A time or two in this epic,

But somehow, no matter the loss

I have always been able to

Find myself beneath the rubble.

I have taken things for granted;

I have realized others good deeds

In a future moment of reflection;

I have been caught looking

Behind when fortune lie in my future,

Yet I have never lost the feeling

Of absolute blessing and euphoria

That came with your unveiling.

I've yearned a million beginnings;

I've recycled a plethora of deaths;

I have listed beyond compare,

And still, I could never want

Anything with you here to provide.

Your gifts exceed my scope of sense

And satiate my soulful sanctity of solace.

I move slowly in comparison to memory;

I hurt more then my body once allowed;

I have left my innocence in my wake,

However, I now glow with the 

Wisdom that comes in time

And smile with the warmth

That comes from truly being loved.

If You Please

You were born into this world 

To live.

Nothing more is expected of you

Than to move from one day

To the next and exist.

Millions have done it

And it's comfortable to be the same.

Same events, same times, same ideas,

Until it all blends into one gray mass.

Then there are those who rise up

Taking those traits that make us

Separate and above the animals

And move forth to find experiences,

A day to day discovery of the

People, places, things and ideas

That drive our interest and our joy.

Yet in those things, there is also

Danger.

It is in the desire to avoid pain

That a man turns to the bottle

As his true, defining source of relief.

With an eye of an ever alluring

Excitement and enthusiasm,

One can be convinced that

The key to freedom can be found

In the many addictions of a drug.

It is in an attempt to find passion

And appreciation that a man is

Coerced to pleasures of the flesh.

In the attempt to receive those same

Pleasures and be without worry,

Man can be blinded by ambition

And walk a dark road to monetary

Independence.

To live is to chance never 

Making a mark to be remembered by,

While being alive is chasing the

Ever changing landscape in pursuit

Of the most enigmatic and euphoric

Four-leaf clover.

It is our chance to take,

And up to those who make

A pit stop in the movement of our lives

To understand and support

Or stay jaded and skulk away.

A dream is often just

A choice not yet made.

My body wants sleep now.

The blinks are getting longer,

The thoughts are getting shorter,

The energy has been depleted.

I am ready to recharge under

The envelope of the unconcious.

My mind wants to stay awake,

Puzzling my inner angst and

Sending my emotions into a frenzy.

There is no rest for the anxious demon

That lives behind the solemn walls

Of my Id castle of solitude.

I am ready to rejoice in slumber,

To turn it all off and go to auto-pilot

So that I may rest to face another day.

Always hoping that I might awaken

And the little monster will

Have acquired a new residence

Elsewhere.

Loving in the Real World

Come with me on this quest

Take my arm and let us begin.

You are the companion that

I have waited a lifetime to find,

The calling  and the commitment

That I have tried too many times.

I speak to you with fairy tales,

But let's root our expectations

In the realities of what is to come.

There will be times when I falter,

And disappointment and hurt

Will be your shrouded comrades.

Even with you to return to,

I will darken the door

Some days with a dark demeanor.

With giving my greatest effort,

I will act in a way that leaves you

Uncomfortable or without content.

I will not always remember

To use my best manners or

Tell you often enough how 

Much your presences so needed,

Due to no ill attitude from me.

There will be times when I am tired

Or anxious

Or sad,

Just as I will ask things of you

Even when you aren't prepared

To meet my needs or desire.

The reality is that coupling 

Is a time test of endurance: 

Existing well beyond the

Initial euphoria of love anew.

Be prepared for all the things

We will be asked to overcome

Before you respond to my offer

To spend the rest of my life.

If you are willing to be party

What I can promise you

Without any doubt or hesitation

Is that none will love you

More than I am capable of

And no one will try harder

To make life as wonderful to you

As you are to me.

No Mal

      I write these blogs as a way to record my life and share in the hope to help others and give myself meaning. I am bipolar and odd and opinionated and I have come much farther in life (on every level) than I ever intended. Still, there are times when I get the feeling that I'm not really doing anything at all; the sense that I have this life thing all wrong.

     I always wanted my life to be a tale of triumph - of the spirit and heart and circumstance. Yet, time and again, the truth of who I am shines through and I realize how insignificant I can be next to everyone else. Our collective humanity is our weakness, but my humanity is as shallow as a puddle and as frail as an egg carton. I am a demon of my own design.

     My inability to truly effect change or joy in those around me seems to resound from the motif that makes me who I am; the gaping flaws that make me accessible also make me frustrating and untenable. The pieces of life have time and again fallen around me like post-tornado shrapnel, but the belief was always in the currents of life causing the destruction. It occurs to me that the whirling dervish my well have been me: a Tazmanian Devil of emotional ineptitude. Being bipolar may shade my view of the present, but more and more I come to feel that the disruption lies squarely on my shoulders as a Judas to my own professed cause.

      Now that I am aware of this reality, all I can imagine to do is hibernate from the world. A life lived as work, school, home, repeat causes few ripples in the gentle ecosystem. My current refrain causes me to leave a constant echo of distress on life's ocean. It's almost a curse to those who love me: "May you find love in an intesting person". I am sorry for all that I cause I'm the general flow of being.

     If only lobotomies were more practical. If only I were more... Plain.