A vision only the blind can see, A meassage only the deaf can hear. Walk with Me? Float with me? You are hear!!
The look inside of a Bipolar mind. I'm a 33 year old man. I started a buisness striaght out of highschool, I built a family with a loving wife of 15 years and 4 wonderfull children. Unfortunataly, I must be a character in this book. I had a near death experenance, when I woke up several days later in the hosptial I was branded with a curse/blessing of this mental illness named Biploar disorder. I kept a journal from the day I was released from the hospital. Writing, love, and intense support ar
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The look inside of a Bipolar mind. I'm a 33 year old man. I started a buisness striaght out of highschool, I built a family with a loving wife of 15 years and 4 wonderfull children. Unfortunataly, I must be a character in this book. I had a near death experenance, when I woke up several days later in the hosptial I was branded with a curse/blessing of this mental illness named Biploar disorder. I kept a journal from the day I was released from the hospital. Writing, love, and intense support are the hidden force which keeps me here today, This is where I will make my stand, use the tools around me and overcome all odds. The one thing I kept screaming that faithfull day was "In order to be the voice of everyone, you must first be the voice of no one"
As the voice of no one I am here, still writing in may daily journal. Writeing letters to no one every day. Every moment of every day is a struggle for me. Only now my biggest frear is coming true, my writing is creating a direct reaction in my real life. When worlds collide.There is a fine line between fact, and fiction. Same goes for reality and fantasy. I walk that line very closley, able to move from one world to the next through the focus of energy or what is being talked about right now "the power of intentions" yeasterday I was a boy with a dream, today I'm a man on a mission.
My father was a world war 2 veteren. He died when I was four, leaving me at that tender age wondering why? In order to try to present my story I must take you back to that day. It was a gloomey fog coverded overcast. The smell of the sea salt was overwhelming, pounding the land with an irisitable force. Mostly the sound of a distant fog horn still sends shivers down my spin, leaveing goose bumps in its wake. That was the last time I felt him. This felling is my only and last memory of him. Until that deadfull night, I was standing on the cliff wndering why? I felt him...
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