the Bipolar Bear and I

Bipolar disorder is a curious and sometimes
multi-splendored thing.

other people seem to have good days and bad days.
my days usually go off the scale one way or the other,
leaning to the crunchy rather than the smooth.

with health issues like measles or polio, most people
have fairly similar experiences and then move on.

among the differently-polared, there are many
variations on a variety of themes including depression, mania, ADHD, OCD and agoraphobia and while it
may evolve, Bipolar is for life.

Bipolar disorder can lead to an enhanced awareness
of just how special and unique humans can be, for
better or for worse, starting with yourself.

there are a few constants on a Bipolar planet...
but if you live on one and/or love someone living
on one, Bipolar Bears are a constant.

they are everywhere.


at this point, i want to say i respect the right of people
who like the Bipolar Bear to like the Bear.
we've all got our own row to hoe. if the Bear helps you get over, vayas con dios, amigo. whatever gets you through the night. 

with that disclaimer a prioried, i should also say
that if you like the Bear, you should stop reading this.

now. because i don't.


i don't dislike the Bear, really.

i hate it. i hate the Bear.

i hate the Bear because it is cute. 'cute' like raindrops
on roses and whiskers on kittens.

i didn't like cute when i was 3, and every year, i like it less.
it's a synonym for dull, sloppy, sentimental, stupid, tired and lame.
cute makes me want to be sedated.

cute is a cliche that real feelings hide behind. cute is retinal spam. cute doesn't start conversations, it ends them.


the creepy vibe i get from the Bear is the same one
i get from big eye paintings, National Socialist art, etc etc, etc.

the victim vibe. cute is the hallmark of victimology.


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