Moods. Meds. Madman crazy desires and dreams, ideas all the time (but only when i’m driving) and I have to WRITE IT DOWN or i’ll forget and then it’s “what was that things i was..?” and I know i’m not dumb but I can’t do it like they want or explain it in a way that doesn’t make me fumble for words or receive these vacant stares as if i just inspired a vacuum of cognition or something… and how about them random mood swings and the constant feeling of uncertainty unless I’m hyper focused and then its all about finite and absolute and measurable and hope is like some crystalline drug flooding the veins of my happy place but fuck me if I’m successful because then I’m depressed for at least the rest of the season.