...so i was walking home from the strip mall today,
when this ran thru my mind...
- 30 -
.
bipolar & The Box
...so i was walking home from the strip mall today,
when this ran thru my mind...
- 30 -
.
Bipolar Artists
A Walk Is...
... an intimate journey...
before you are even past the end of the driveway,
there's something crawling rustling around
there's something crawling rustling around
over by the garden.
heading down the street,
past signs of linearity
trying to impose itself.
another street.
another message.
an order?
message from god?
zen dancing lesson?
a forest from a satellite?
moss on stone.
fractals. geometry. the math.
even a face of stone fades.
 his mum must have been so sad. |
was the sun shining like this
when laid him in that grave?
that tree must have been very small.
we are all going to die.
i will die.
but not today, i think.
today, i'm walking down these tracks.
the stone these tracks are laid on
was a red river once.
decay is as interesting as growth.
they cannot be separated.
i remember those signs from when i was a kid.
i guess people either need ice or they don't.
i will die one day.
you will die one day.
it seems strange that we share something
so intimate, profound...
and yet we never speak of it.
i walk past a strange Youth Park.
i've never seen one before with no graffiti on it.
none.
it looks naked
to me.
like an abandoned Futurist installation.
like something Stalin might have approved.
things only ever almost seem to fit together.
i'm not sure if that's a bipolar thing or what.
-30-
.
Great Moments in Mental Illness
... sometimes, 'symptoms' have their uses.
Winston Churchill would not
have been who he was, or capable
of doing what he did
without them...
Winston Churchill would not
have been who he was, or capable
of doing what he did
without them...
-30-
.
Random acts of sanity...
found around lately...
do we even need to discuss this?
sadly, apparently so.
one of those 'god' things
i've always wondered about too.
and one day while i was walking
around in toronto
i wish i did too.
best mix tape ever... and a brilliant idea, and just one of those things in the world that helps one keep a sense of wonder...and hope.
best new art form i've seen in a while.
i want to make some of these up too!
...and this light, still burning brightly for the masses.
i think i have a new mission statement.
.
.
We're All Crazy Now
we're all weird.
sometimes i think that next to death, maybe, our biggest fear
is that other people will find out how weird we are.
they will find out how weird we are,
and they won't want to be around us anymore.
and they'll tell two people how weird we are,
and they'll tell two people and so on
until nobody wants to be around us,
and we'll end up alone.
which is maybe another kind of death,
i guess.
maybe one of the good things about being diagnosed
is that if you can get behind it,
it's like permission to be how you really are once in a while,
instead of spending all that time and energy trying to be someone
you are not... which is "normal".
which as it turns out is something few,
if any, people are.
what's up with that?
I only eat eggs that are made sunny side up. And I don’t eat the white part of the egg.
To me, its just there for decoration. So when I eat the egg, I cut around the yolk,
put a bunch of salt, and put it straight into my mouth...
If the vacuum is on, I must hum, increasing my volume,
until I can just hear my humming.
until I can just hear my humming.
I can only bite a Triscuit if my teeth are aligned
with the direction of the grains on the cracker.
***
these aren't me. they could be,
but i don't even know who they are...
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