Between these lines, you shall read

To the souls who constantly face internal battles,

I hear you.
Not the voice you make when you speak,
not the silent cry you let out once every late night,
but the voices trying to take you down every minute of every day,
every version of you.

There are days when you struggle to even remember your name,
who you are,
and what you are here for,
like an inconsistent amnesia that keep coming and going.

When the blue moon comes around,
your head get all cloudy.
Like everything couldn’t get any worse,
but yet they just keep taking you deeper and deeper,
to the dark pit they wanted you to be buried in.

And when the green vapour took its turn to occupy you,
you face every direction with the spirit of a warrior.
Invincible, indestructible.

I know you feel sick.
You hate the way you’re feeling,
despise the lack of control you have,
and wishing for a different universe inside your head,
a still and quiet one.

I have learned, time and time again,
that wishing would not really do much around here.

So, rise above.
Help yourself by lending a hand to others.

It always seemed to be easier to carry someone else’s burden,
rather than our own.

In the middle of it all, you would find yourself in a balanced point,
and in that moment, even if it lasted for just half a second,
remind yourself of who you truly are,
what ground you’re standing on.

It’s a struggle, to keep playing guerrilla with a being you share a home with,
but I believe, that nirvana awaits.
After all the battle, paradise will always be at the end of the tunnel.
In this life, or another.

On International Bipolar Disorder Day

written on March 30th, 2018.


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