Do not follow me, lest it lead you to ruin. The road I travel on right now is one that only I may walk.

On either side lie the cliffs of my own mortality. To falter would bring oblivion.

The path ahead is uncertain, and transient. The ground shifts beneath my feet along my way.

My destination is unknown. Perhaps my journey will lead me to a place of solace. Or it might just end in the darkness of the abyss.

In time the way may widen, allowing another to walk beside me. Or maybe it will narrow even further, to the width of a tightrope, even more treacherous than before.

It's hard to say. I won't know until I get there. For now I just put one foot in front of the other, and keep my eyes ahead.

I walked thru Hell, and the flames burned away the person I thought I was, leaving a stranger in his place.

With time I have slowly gotten to know this new person, both stronger, and weaker, than the one before. Less emotional, and more guarded.

Happiness and pleasure are still kept from me, but I have learned to laugh again. Without that I would still be nothing. A walking shadow, waiting for death.

I slowly learn to live again as the days go past, waiting for the future to come, when I can leave this place I find myself, and move forward.

My end still waits for me, but it will not come today.

One of the greatest tragedies in life is that the people that the world be better off without aren't the ones who feel that way.

Lives flutter like leaves in the wind.
What years, months, days do we have left?
Time keeps slipping by us.
Life keeps passing by.

This is what I say:
Plant flowers.
Spread love.
Appreciate what you have.
And make the best of what lies ahead.

Not all wounds heal.
Not all scars fade.
Some hurt never goes away.
Sometimes everything is not ok, and WILL NOT BE.

But we can survive.
We can keep going.
We can fight our way thru the suffocating darkness, and into the light again.

Time can bring release.
And someday you can be ok again.
Someday you can be yourself again.
You will be whole again.

I am intelligent, observant, an alternative thinker, and atypically self-aware. But this is a double edged sword, because I am also mentally ill.

I should probably refer to it as having a mental disorder, but I refer to it that way for a reason. I do so because the last decade has shown me that it is degenerative, and because it's presence decreases my life expectancy. But this is not the point at hand.

Allow me to try to explain what I mean.

I know that all matter is made of atoms, and that atoms are comprised of even smaller particles, and that those particles are in turn comprised of infinitely smaller ones. I also know that all those forms are almost entirely empty space, that there substance is created by the particles within moving at a speed fast enough to create a field of energy that attracts other forms to it, while also providing resistance. That these particles are moving fast enough that by our perception they are virtually inhabiting the entire space simultaneously. That the solidity of physical objects is based on the likelihood of there being a particle in any part of it at any given moment to provide resistance to the object or force acting against it.

I know that all of existence is compromised of the same energy vibrating at different frequencies.

I know that when I touch an object my body receives the response that it exists because its atomic field provides resistance to the atomic field of my body, which then creates a signal that my nervous system transmits to my brain.

I know that everything I see is light being processed through the lenses of my eyes by my optic nerve, which sends a signal to my brain.

I know that everything I hear is my eardrums, in conjuncture with the hairs in my ears, picking up vibrations and then sending a signal to my brain.

I know that everything I smell is tiny particles of matter being processed by my olfactory system, which sends a signal thru my olfactory nerve to my brain.

I know that I everything I feel, everything I experience, everything I think, everything that makes me who I am--my personality, my psyche, my self-identity, my emotions, my memory--all of these exists because of neurons being fired through specific pathways in my brain.

But I also know that my brain malfunctions. That it doesn't regulate it's chemistry properly. That it doesn't always send the right neurons through the right pathways. That this has been exacerbated by two substantial concussions (one as a child & one at the age of 20) and numerous lesser head impacts, countless instances of physical & psychological trauma at varying levels of elevated severity, elevated levels of cortisol for most of my life, and the effects of poor sleeping & eating habits as well as a tendency towards mild stimulant abuse, stemming from passive self-destructive tendencies caused by my disorder.

And because I know all of this, it creates doubt. Doubt about what I'm feeling, what I'm experiencing, what I'm thinking. Doubts about my words. About my actions.

Because when my brain releases the wrong chemicals, or at the wrong levels, or simply just in a different way, it changes all these things.

When my neurochemistry is out of balance, my brain likes to lie to me. And it is a clever liar indeed.

And in times of instability, something most prevalent in February & March when my neurochemical cycle shifts from depression towards mania, it becomes increasingly difficult for me to discern what is real, what is me, from the lies that my mind tells me.

I am in one of times of instability right now, at the same time as being overwhelmed by my life being in flux because of the situation I have found myself in, and am trying to make my way out of.

I am not in danger, but I will be struggling the next month or so. I am not alone, I am loved, and I know in one way or another, that everything will be ok.

But I still need to pass through this, and I know it's going to take so much out of me. The fires are already low, but I must keep them burning longer still.

We all face our own devils, and these are the devils that are mine. They would have me hurt. They would bring the death of me if they could. And I will most likely spend the rest of my life fighting them.

The next words I speak to you from my own experience, and I hope you take them to heart:

Some days the devils win. But that doesn't mean you lose.

You only lose if you give up.

No matter how weak you feel, get back up. GET BACK ON YOUR FUCKING FEET AND KEEP FIGHTING, GODDAMMIT!

Because you're better than them. You're stronger than that. And never fucking forget it.

Don't give up. Don't let them beat you. Don't let them take everything away from you.

Don't give them that satisfaction. They don't fucking deserve it.

You deserve to live. Not them.

I deserve to live.

Not my devils.

"I must not fear.
Fear is the mind-killer.
Fear is the little-death that brings total obliteration.
I will face my fear.
I will permit it to pass over me and through me.
And when it has gone past I will turn the inner eye to see its path.
Where the fear has gone there will be nothing.
Only I will remain."

-Frank Herbert, 'Dune'

You are the universe manifesting itself in a form in which it can express itself.

I have nothing to lose, except my fear.

It's like saying goodbye to an unwanted guest who has stayed years too long.

I'm tired of hearing that love hurts. Love doesn't hurt. Rejection hurts. Absence hurts. Carelessness hurts. Betrayal hurts.

It isn't love that hurts. It's what we love--who we love--that hurts us.

It's the loss of love that hurts.

It's life that hurts.

Not love.

It's easier to cry in the rain, because your tears just blend in.

You wear your persona
And I will wear mine
But who we are inside our head
No one will ever know but us

We are all functional schizophrenics. Everything you see, hear, smell or experience, you do so because your mind tells you that you do. It is real because your mind tells you it is real.

You think your reality into being. Thought alters your experiences according to your own personal bias. None of us are experiencing the same reality. What we call life is merely a series of overlapping realities.

Your mind is a clever liar. You will never know whether or not it is telling the truth.

I often encounter difficulty when trying to explain to others what it's like to be bipolar. Today I'm going to attempt to explain it with a metaphor that's been rattling around in my head.

Imagine an outline of a person. This is a representation of self-image.

It is my impression that most people have a fairly defined image of themselves. Who they think they are, what they believe, how they behave. This may change over time, but at any given moment it is generally defined.

Now image multiple outlines superimposed in a way that they overlap, like a Venn diagram.

For me, being bipolar is like being multiple people that are similar but different. Overlapping versions of myself, where the common ground is "me".

Now imagine the diagram isn't stationary. The outlines shift, sometimes as a whole, sometimes individually. Sometimes they move inward, overlapping more, creating a more cohesive and centrally defined image. Sometimes they move outwards, losing cohesion and becoming more individually distinct. Sometimes the whole thing kaleidoscopes, losing all sense of definition and structure, becoming a distortion of the original image.

This is what it's like to be bipolar.

Bipolar disorder is often represented by, or thought of, as mood swings. This is reductive. The term mood disorder itself can be misleading. What a person with bipolar disorder experiences is not just shifts in mood, but shifts in personality as well. The way we behave, and the way we think, changes. Sometimes rapidly, unpredictably, and erratically. It's not just a matter of how we're feeling at any given time.

My self-image is not clearly defined. How I view myself, what I think, and how I act are partially, or greatly, dependent on the level of certain chemicals in my brain.

But I am still me. The different outlines are all David. Or Davey. Or whatever variation it is that you have chosen to refer to me by. They are all different, yet they are all the same.

Truth be told, this probably isn't a very good metaphor. But it's what I've got.

If there is still but one person who can believe in peace and love, even in a world filled with violence and hate, then all is not lost.

Demand a better world.

Just remember that it will not exist unless you help create it.

For those of you so convinced that the government needs to reduce spending by cutting social services, I have this to say:

The burden of the rich on society is far greater than the burden of the poor.

Why would you refuse assistance to one unable to walk on their own, and then allow another, so arrogant and undeserving, to walk over you unimpeded?

We are all hypocrites, but there are those of us who choose to be compassionate in spite of it. Judge us as you will.

Imagine a world where wages were competitive universally, where companies were held to the same labor and environmental standards regardless of the location of their manufacturing plants, where healthcare was accessible and affordable to all who needed it, and where quality education is provided to everyone, regardless of economic status, ethnicity, or religious/political/social beliefs.

It wouldn't even be that hard to create that world.

Think about it. If corporations were required to pay their workers in third world countries comparable wages to workers in the US, there wouldn't be third world countries anymore. And it wouldn't companies wouldn't even have to raise the cost of goods because the dramatic increase of potential consumers would mean significant increases in demand.

It is a fallacy that there must be poverty for there to be wealth. Money is an artificial construct, so there can always be more of it. And there can never be a shortage of possessions while new ones are constantly being made.

And do know what would happen? There would be less disease, less famine, less suffering, and less senseless killing. Peace would become commonplace, because there would be no need to fight tooth and nail over the barest of scraps. Open-mindedness and reason would replace fear and ignorance.

We live in a world full of vast disparity because a small handful of people desire it to be that way, and the majority do nothing to change it.

Take a while and really think about it. Which world would you rather live in? This one, or the one I described.

It can be difficult being a thinker. It's easy to look back at a day (or a month, a year, or a life), and say "What have I done with my time?", and feel like one has done nothing at all. When in truth the answer is "I have thought".

And in those thoughts all the secrets of life can be revealed, if only for a brief moment.

We carry the dead on our shoulders
as we pass through the forest.

Flowers of flame and smoke grow from our footsteps,

consuming all in our wake.
From the ashes come fresh life,

old stories retold by young souls.
We are fated to destroy what we create,

but only so that we can create anew.

In the end, I am but a child of thought traveling through life in a broken vessel.