bipolar
Bipolar disorder; understanding the highs, the lows and the in between.
Chapter XVII: The Sovereign of Shadows
The wind shrieked, calling me through the hollow arches of my empire, and shared the whispers of those from which I had long departed. They did not capitulate, they did not bend the knee—those stubborn flames in their unyielding commitment who were steadfast in grisly devotion to my cause even while I drifted into infinite nothingness. I stand now before the stripped down bones of my empire, their magnificence reduced to chambers of resonating echo and thrones of dust. *Why have I returned?* The question coils in my heart like the serpent of eternal regret. Perhaps it is the burden of promises I once scarred into the flesh of memory now bleeding through the cracks of time. Or perhaps it is the truth that solitude, even from this frayed kingdom, is a reprieve from the honeyed mumble of humankind. Humanity—how shameless a pantomime! They murmur constantly of virtues they loathe, and in the very next breath, dive into the sins of their own disdain. Their laugh, a knife—that roasts, and their kindness, a mask stuck to rotten flesh. I have tasted their "compassion," a goblet of vinegar, and spit it back into oblivion. They are the architects of their own suffering, bringing offerings of opinions about the innocence of gutting like lambs to a slaughterhouse. Weakness masquerades as strength in their world—a monstrous breeding from the bones of gentle chitterers.
By LUCCIAN LAYTH11 months ago in Psyche
Is Mind Reading Possible?
The idea of reading minds has long fascinated humanity. From ancient myths to science fiction, the concept of telepathy has captivated imaginations. But could this once fantastical notion be edging closer to reality? Recent advancements in neuroscience and technology suggest that mind reading might not be confined to fiction after all.
By Horace Wasland11 months ago in Psyche
The Mirror Within
Some nights, the walls forget their shape. I sit at my desk, fingers hovering above the keys, while the room folds like a crumpled sheet of paper. Outside, the goats scream—though I’ve lived here long enough to know it’s just their language, coarse and unashamed. Inside, the frogs from the lake chant an offbeat rhythm, croaking my name backwards.
By Stéphane Lallée11 months ago in Psyche
Change is a Part of Life
In the Sonapur village, the old mango tree was casting a shadow as the sun set. The slender dirt road where Rohan used to play was bathed in golden light. Now, years later, he was returning after a long time, a stranger to the place he once called home.
By Niranjon Chandra Roy11 months ago in Psyche
The Lamborghini
The frequent offender. There he goes again, off his drugs. Off the chemicals that would keep him balanced. Another broken toy to be fitted into the shattered glass menagerie. Fragile but not frail. Racing thoughts like a Lamborghini crashing into a wall. Hey, you! I’m talking to you, now! You should be glad you’re still alive. Yes. This would be another pit stop. No, the doors won’t open. Silly, you. You thought you could just burst out of here into the sunshine of your life. Ha.
By Skyler Saunders12 months ago in Psyche
