I Scream in Echos

Marfa Lights

There is no spectrum equipped to describe the phenomenon i live in.

Call it a cesspool of creative thinking, an overactive imagination. You say I "must be sleeping" when I Dream in technicolor hallucinations.

When you are inquisitive enough to diagnose north and south, but too ignorant to believe that horizontal lines exists, your stupidity fascinated me.

For my emotions are not polar. I am a compass rose, a solar system full of colors and colliding inconsistencies. My tendencies are a switch, left out and broken without the "out of order sign".

Impulse fueled rocket of racing thoughts, I can't stop until I come to a crashing hault. Panic clouds the manic depressive phases and a diagnosis becomes faded like a dying out star, that is getting outshined and is only left with a stain.