May 2 by The Running Son
I’ve held back, and I’m forcing myself to slow sown. Stop Rhyming.
I have a strong rhythmic loop in my head right now, and Im on one hell of a manic episode. It’s kind of perfect timing. Don’t believe me? read the poems I’ve wrote in the last 24 hours. And I have the longest one in sitting queue. But for the first time, I’m holding it back. I need to know if anyone understands my heavy rhyme patterns and multiple streaming metaphors, or the subject matter, or cares.
A few of you are starting to get to know me. I like that. This is a part of my “disorder” even I have never experienced before.
It’s ok.. right now I am ok. It’s still what it is, but a surprising benefit has been I am writing poetry like crazy (no pun) during it all, in a way I never thought I could I might add, and I am not going to inhibit it, I have decided.
I haven’t eaten today, but I’m going to force myself to. I’m worried about what some of the people out there that I respect are going to think as they see this Dionysian and energetic side of me come through.
I’m just telling myself it’s ok. There’s a lot going on. Father is dying, I may have had a small stroke, I’m stuck in the California desert, off my medication, on a manic, and I’m deathly afraid to talk to my dad, or my facebook friends who are quiet, and have been for awhile, and I feel bad for even writing this.
But I have promises I made (luckily a poetry “battle” with writingsofamrs) that I will keep. But just for tonight, the blog silence is deafening, and all of a sudden I am depressed again and I want to go to sleep. Only 3 hours last night.
But I really want to memorialize this exhilarating and intensely emotional period, by creating art and writing poetry during it. It would be good. Let somebody get to know me. Even if I’m temporally a little “jumpy”. Might as well, since my writing voice is the only one I have right now, and it’s pretty loud.
One more thing. I’m not a serial killer, rapist, phony, drunk, drug addict (any more, addict that is) or ANYthing weird.
What can I say? Im just a normal everyday bi-polar RunningSon coming home, and the Father is Love, not to get confused. For myself, and for all. Sounds insipid, dont care tonight. Screw it.
Feel free to comment. The monolog is friggen over.
I hope the dialog has begun.