Being Bipolar When The World Is Just More Juice

Battery analogy.

You feel like the nodes when the electricity makes its connections with the tines.

YOW! That hurts like a motherfucker!

All the other people in the battery are contained, doing their battery job, waiting to be used.

Society likes it this way. They call you “bipolar”. Then they tell you that they do not understand the disease fully or what triggers it.

You know, though. You know one thing; that when someone throws a rock, you yell. Most people don’t like having rocks thrown at them. It’s pretty darn weird to them when you stand up and say “hit me with that rock again, and I will fuck you up.”

This is a strange way for society to thank you for being upset, isn’t it?

Here’s bipolar in a nutshell: when something is sad you are very sad about it. When something pisses you off, you are very pissed off about it.

This tends to cause people to think that you think you are important,and are therefore sick in the head. It’s not too far removed from schizophrenia, where you actually can feel the couch’s pain and it talks to you. As a bipolar, you think of how many trees were wasted to make that ugly couch.

I think that about sums up what I have to say about bipolar. Schizophrenics cannot speak your native language anymore, but you can, as a bipolar. This makes you very dangerous to the status quo. Because you have the power to tell people what human weasels they have become. And so they put you away before you hurt someone. But you wouldn’t. You’d just rant and rave, unless you take violent drugs, which many bipolars are attracted to.

Take heart, bipolars; they can put you away but they can’t shut you up for long. Because you’re not insane, you are very fucking pissed. And they hand you pills to “quiet” you. Take them, because your benefactors don’t want to hear what you really think. Consider it a favor to them that you take the drugs to quiet you, because the last thing you want to do is hurt someone. All bipolars know this. We don’t want to hurt; we believe in mercy more than the Virgin Mary herself.

They don’t believe you, but you know what to do. Stop worrying about it and do what your loved ones say, because they only want the best for you. And what could be better than to be cared for in this manner?

About The Head Seminarian

I might be the nicest person you'll ever meet, but if you don't believe me, that is because I hate you. I went to war, I went to father, I came, I saw, and it is a mess. I wouldn't have it any other way. Shitty people amuse me, people who act like human volcanoes fascinate me like fine art. Life is beautiful, and it is under attack in a manner heretofore unseen in history. I came to remind you of this, not make it worse. I might be writing a blog. Yes, that's all I am doing, now that I think about it. If you have a bad memory, you will forget this. Even I forget sometimes, so we're cool.

Posted on January 4, 2011, in Uncategorized and tagged , . Bookmark the permalink. Leave a comment.

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