As i look in the mior at my self i see two sides of me one bright and beautiful and the other a mistory awiting to be discovered. My mind is where i spend most of my time thinking long thoughts. Pondering on what is going on. My friend is my own creativity a poet esacpinv my reality i live is hell i cant escape. My mind is full of things i cant explain. Ideas creative exiting but road lesss traveled. Bc beyong every bend is a mistake i make every time i open a new door to my own hell. Where god or satan has no control over. I am a walking hell setting wild fires with nothing left bright or beautiful. In my life there is no sun just a world of hell. If i let you see what i see you might lose your mind and go psychoticly crazy just to escape the pits of fire i walk threw. Wind chimes blow giving a chill to the air leaving me with chills of fear down my spine. My bipolar is like a roaler coster a speeding car that crashes into another cras sometimes. Most of the time i spend my time in my head thinking long thoughts pondering on the possibilitys of what is true and what is false. Week after week im stuck in my head just with all my thoughts that never seem to end it never tires me at all. My friend dont follow mw unless you wish to walk in hell like me