The portarit of a tree, without an artist to dream it.

Dear sir, I have a complaint

cantisama — Tue, 31 Mar 2009 05:19:21 +0000

Sweet Autumn turned cold,

The Cheery Blossoms seem far,

Like thoughts of you sweet.

I think you’re crazy, maybe.

cantisama — Tue, 31 Mar 2009 02:54:24 +0000

Talent is a wonderful curse. I’ve a friend who loves music and beer. Unfortunately he loves beer more than the music he writes.

A schism, a chasm, yawns between the cheques his mouth writes and those his body cashes, made all the more obvious because he is talented.

Sadder still is the way people react to squandered talent. At first they gather round, for talent burns like a sharp blue flame in the night. As my friend wallows in his own weakness people come to realise that while there is light from this flame, there is no heat.

Just a tiny show of the heart warming blaze that might have been.

Wandering the night they seek out another flame, something that will warm their soul.

Left alone my friend crawls into the bottle and drinks his little talent away.

Talent is a wonderful curse, easily worth it’s price of having.

Did I fall or was I pushed?

cantisama — Mon, 30 Mar 2009 04:58:53 +0000

The goal of rationalisation is to understand all things within the narrow grounds of a synthetic system.

Rational thought is limited to that which is already understood, or that which we speculate is.

Thus, it is only the truly irrational mind that breaks new ground.

Did I fall, or was I pushed?

I used to fly like Peter Pan

cantisama — Sun, 29 Mar 2009 11:19:02 +0000

I suffer from bipolar. In fact, right now it’s causing me great suffering.

I think.

You never know though, because with a mental illness there’s no line separating you from your illness. You never get to know where it ends and you begin.

Right now I feel sad, and wistful. I’m not sure if I’ve any reason or right to. you see, with bipolar you learn very rapidly that the last thing you can trust is your feelings.

Makes it hard to be an atheist. Living like this, you’ve gotta have faith.

It’s hard when you look at yourself in the mirror. It’s hard to know what’s bad behavior and what’s your illness, what are your failings as a person, and what are your failings as a person with an illness?

Are they to be separated? Pray, that they are, for the sins of the mentally ill weigh heavily on their minds and hearts.

But right now I’m missing my good friends, their happy family, and my life lived vicariously through their normalcy. I trust my feelings with these people, for they gave me the gift that keeps me going every day.

Faith

“And I used to fly like Peter Pan, All the Chlidren flew when I touched their hands” -Bones, Radiohead