I can feel the slow fall in thoughts. The rapid array of ideas are steadily becoming concrete impossibilities. Again, a lot of money spent. Late nights and early mornings of extreme excitement are waning away. I write because for once, I notice it. I write as a reminder to lock this in.
As I write the sadness thickens. The illusion of mania is so mysterious. The delusion of depression not far behind. Anger is lurking close by. Depression and anger have become great friends. If one is around he lets the other in. What a pair they are! What a team!
Mania has become a liar of sorts. Says that he will never leave but always does. Not his fault though. I am flabbergasted at the fact that I believe him every time. Perhaps a willing delusion. No matter how much fun we have in a day, night has never ceased to arrive. Usually right on cue, invited by the dusk. Dusk and dawn are neighbors but they never have seen each other. They only pass letters through the days break and the night wake.
Night is here now. I must go let him in or he will keep knocking. I must keep him out or he will keep coming. I am not sure what to do. All I remember is that day will come again. At least that’s what day says. Night tells another story at bedtime. It’s time for for bed now. Hopefully the night won’t keep me up all night.
Out of Sound Mind 