I am speaking to my future me.

You love your wife, Adyson.

I know when the demons come back with more force than the last time, this thought enters your mind:

"Divorce your wife, this is unhealthy."

The truth is, you're unhealthy. I know it's raw, but it's the truth. You are too consumed with yourself to even know the difference.

You see, at this close of 2017 you looked to your right and told her:

"I am happy."

See, you're happy because she's the only one you have that truly understands you. How do I know?

Take a good guess, I know you can do it.

I'm guessing there's a good chance that she's feeling exactly the same way, or worse.

You're taking a trip right now. You're stable tonight. Addy is stable tonight. You're driving to Keith's (or writing here on these pages mucking up your handwriting...) to be with your family and friends. Good friends. Going to get ****-faced and hoping to black out.

And you're blessed to have your soulmatage right next to you, smoking chillum **** and "Natural" American Spirit cigarettes, and sipping on Mtn Dew. It's 2:17am, and you're about to ride the Music Express because it is picking up speed. No sleep for you tonight.

Your mind is not clear. Next time you think to divorce your wife, hold onto that thought, because by doing so, you're giving yourself time. Time is key.

If you feel that you should divorce your wife when you're well enough to have a clear perspective, then maybe you should consider it.

Depression and mixed states will lie to you, insidiously, and without mercy. No mercy.

I'm willing to bet at this point, however, that when your demon is back to sleep, if only for a minute, you'll only have to  look to your left while in bed in order to cultivate your prior burning love for her.

For she loves you and you love her ... to death, even beyond your current living death. Rest assured, my good man, that it will end. Just give it time.

Take a break. Go to sleep. Turn off your life for a moment, it'll help. The decision to take your pills is up to you, but consider taking them, too. They will probably help.

Don't forget to hug your wife though.

Good night.

On my way to Anchorage for a New Years eve party soiree, I see the moon perched high behind a dark charcoal gray sea of sky smoke (there are no fires) and I wonder.

That when I asked my mother, "Mother, what is my talent? What can I do better than anyone else?"

She paused for a moment and said,

"Χρυσόστομος."

Mania. Everything was good when you were with me.

I felt normal. The chains bolted to my eyelids where magically gone, like the money in your bank account after a heavy, drunken, stupor & forthright gambling spree.

The spear in my side that your twin brother, depression, threw inside me was no longer twisting up my insides. Thank you.

This feels like a goodbye letter but I'm actually trying to hold on to you. You give me life. Your twin takes it away and he rash-burns my face in it.

I was accomplishing all the things; skipping from one stone to the next without feat. "Flutter your wings and dance," is your motto.

But like all good things, you drive me away, knowing that I'll see you again.

Try as I might, I remain faithful to you, but you commit adultery every week.

Sometimes you demand my time, even when I'm low. I cry for hours with your natural dichotomy, not because I can't decide--I can--but because you and your twin rip me apart in twain, changing my reality as sure as the rain falls in the Amazon.

The demons call out to me, whispering evil into my mind. I believe every evil thing when I am not armed with your brilliance. I lose that perspective, every time, and sometimes immediately.

Your twin brother and cousin visit me early in the morning right before bed time. If my doubts and fears are real, then my mind's eye is experiencing a real reality, and thus I am as I feel, like a plastic bag tumbling in the wind.

Yet, everyone reminds me that I am but a joke and a comic, one which not even you can trust.

The biggest asset I lose when you choose to cheat on me is your energy--that precious flow that bears my creative passion.

But now I am barren, an unfit conduit that is incapable of maintaining that flow. The demon upon me powerfully weaves its tapestry of sludge that encases my mind.

My mind, it's the only thing I have left. And yet, I can never trust it.

You've lied to me before and you'll lie to me in the future.

But for now, I'll have to make do with your half-truths.

Until next time.

Stability!
Not constantly in the torrent of your mind
do you find ease in the pulse of reality
where your fingers get a break from the heavy weight of your soul
hanging off a cliff at 20 below

My best friend!
Today we will get all the things done
and shown to be efficacious in life
only to climb up from the cliff
and then to bear witness to the depths below

My worst enemy!
In the mire of the pit I lay, motionless
molasses encases my mind and therefore my body also
no will power to fight that arduous fight
ready to end all that is and all that shall be

The ride!
On this roller coaster, I muster the energy,
somehow, made it through spell after spell
the grievance my own mind has against all that I am
which allows these words to boil a sweet tea

Poetry is for those who write it,
not for those who read it.

Music--
a heartbeat of
the infinite universe!

I. There exists only the Fractal.
II. The Fractal contains itself.
III. Everything else is derived.