Better is Lower

Many times over the last few months, I have had times of disappointment but also times of great excitement.

The ups are thrilling and I am always tempted to keep it going.

The downs are delibitating and I struggle deeply going through them. Sometimes, I remind myself how much of a bipolar I am. And how it was never about genetics making me one but how I am a product of circumstance, and in some ways trauma.

At nights, my mind questions my soul if it could be different, and it recalls the memories of what I have been through. Not know if it accentuates the emotions or if it is trying to reconcile them.

At this point in my life, I know reconciliation may never be possible. I don't have a motivation to. All I want is to keep myself tired, weary, and resting in the presence of the sunshine and the light. I do feel like a fish out water at times, having jumped out of the river that I've always swam against. Finding dry land a respite even as it sucks out the very moisture that keeps me alive.

But, watching nature and the world devour itself. As the river bends further and further till it brings itself loops and drives itself, plunging into the rock or entering the sea and being lost in the vast abyss and mixed with saltiness.

When has it become so much about survival?

Am I finally understanding what to die is to live for Christ?

It was easier the last time round I wanted to commit suicide. Because it was sharp and acute. This one feels like your soul leaves your dying, rotting body as you pursue something no other man would even try. Because they cling on too strongly to life. But not me.

It's easy to talk, but it's harder to live as a wandering soul and finding it hard to communicate, alone walking among live and kicking flesh and bones. Your dry bones feel cold at times. Just waiting, waiting for that light to shine down and even if it doesn't bring the waters that nourish and quench my thirst, it brings warmth.

Sometimes, lower is better.