I have let me go and you know it. I’ve lost all hope but I won’t show it. I have come and gone, not to return. I’ve lost the train of my thoughts, out of traction, derailed. I have let me go and you ignore it. I’ve lost common sense but I flaunt it. I have come and gone, yet to come back. I’ve lost my sanity somewhere, not here but along the way. I have let me go and you accept it. I’ve lost all energy in cyclic despair, yet to escape this mask I wear. I have come and gone, stepping back to square one.
where is My Silver Lining? I had seen it somewhere but now it’s lost… the more I look, the more I get taunted by the pitch-blackness that plagues my existence. perhaps it escaped with the rest of me in grandiose version of hide and seek- but either way I hope not forever. at least in time before I get deserted by My Self, a process rapidly set in motion without my approval although I was sitting there.
My Silver Lining is all playful shadows & light: iridescent, a type of euphoria intricately laced by mania, an effervescent seductive trance that never lasts long enough for me to really let go.
disoriented, my eyes adjust though not really from sparkly hues to depressed pitch-black or lethargic darkest of grays or sometimes though rarely a suicidal shade of darkest indigo blue. but I compulsively still seek My sexy Silver Lining though will I ever find it? running empty of hope, with a bitterness that corrodes me in waves of anxiety and rage but still somehow functioning nonetheless- except if I dare to be a little myself: so I lie and most believe it. story of my life.
there is NO FEELING BETTER – beauty & darkness.
just a gradient from different shades of worse. some darker, some lighter, but worse all the same. dispenser of fake smiles adorned by artificial laughter I am.
a facade held together tear by tear. a lifeless puppet- my strings pulled by Mania, stretched thin to break in Depression’s filthy hand so immaculate, faint death.
from frantic motion in alternate reality cut off into dissociation. on this limbo no longer human, but an element that permeates everything you don’t see.
in depersonalization i don’t feel myself- just this fatal descent that changes speed but never ends or hasn’t since two 1,000 + eight.
enigmatic fantasy heroine in me can’t save myself- where am I?
Like a wall stripped of paint long worn-I stand undressed from colors and shades of disgust mixed with layers of curious hypersexed manic buzz: I am stripped of my humanity as waves of madness take me hostage- thus leaving me to myself in this racing matrix of voices and loud thoughts. Beautiful hell so infinite: the Sun shines and rainbows flirt but rain inevitably reigns supreme. And I die a little bit. And I torture a little more. I hurt in ecstasy. From me to myself not much love in the end.Sadly.
it’s electric. it’s magic. so eclectic. so hypnotic. it’s exotic. futurotic. so erotic. not robotic. it’s fluid. it’s organic. so vibrant. so unmaterialistic. it’s electric. it’s magic. full of life. full of fire. ritualistic. so cyclical. so undone. unravelled.it’s magic. it’s electric. it’s manic. not yet depressive.
… I miss my nightmares– those took away time from this horror I must endure while awake.
On & Off or continuos crying for hours… So many hours awake…
Like a broken faucet, the water flows slower or quicker but continues nonetheless.
Night meets day meets night, circadian cycles start and done in this, my faulty biological clock. And it infuriates me. I can’t make peace.
Why can’t I just push through? Why must I spend so much time like this? Why alone? Frustration turns to anger, rage, agitation, with self-loathing beneath it all. Ugly truth: I’ve become an enabler to this depression- loosing some more brain cells, feeding them to this illness. And it mocks me again, voices laughing so loud- so stupid of me to play brave.
*Not nearly enough to convey this sexy, life consuming horror thrill rollercoaster ride.
DarkInMania: I sit dead quietly, layer of paranoia covering me. I feel violent, angry, out of control- snapped in rage with no target-
but I must work, holding on despite my uninvited mindfuckery. Time doesn’t move- suddenly I cry in worthlessness but the angry rage dries my tears. RageInMania: I tremble within, shaking off frustrated anger or depression or both. And I can’t stop moving. My inquiring mind bitch mode goes on and on… it drives me crazier- literally- but that whiny voice asking the “how the fucks” I had ignored, finally slows me down. But I wonder if I should race instead? ReasonInMania: I’m learning to play this, a sort of Russian Roulette just without Russian minus the roulette- more like choosing a short term adrenaline rush over a plate of hunger- knowing the rush will lead to the hunger inevitably. Roll the dice. toss a coin, kill me, no wait, that’s you. But no, eh…(chatter) whatever. PlayInMania: Life’s a videogame and I’m lead characters 1,2,3- it’s all technicolor with surround sound and high def. Energy so raw and limitless, never ceasing to flow. Surreal yet very real sensations that it isn’t me wearing my hands or feet. Heightened senses, visual auditory ecstacy. Part WonderWoman, Part Burlesque Showgirl , All Hypersexual Me.