Shadowmoor

As day passes into night, and the coin has two faces, so does this entity have two sides. Misanthropic yet craving for society, alternating between episodes of joy and depression, this autistic fellow has given way to that syncophant and jester, although at times regressing into hermitude and the state of wonderment as to how anyone can or should relate to other beings, but it has been a success, if not a disaster. No one should know, and yet there is that urge to tell. I was asleep, yet wide awake and insanely clear-headed. It's a catastrophe and a blessing that this blog gets visited and I am horrified and glad; I have come far, yet has remained in that exact spot I was twenty years ago. This is my bi-polar disorder, not some attempt at poetic skulduggery.

It is a struggle to find myself, and often I land up in that tender darkness which seems so eerie and compelling, and mere moments later, that blighted light of cruelty comes on, comfortable yet terrifying. I am that undecided, and in all probability, would never be.

My friend told of one autistic guy, who interpreted the road sign 'Watch for rocks' as literally, exchanging rocks for a watch, and I am inclined to recall, ten, twenty years ago, I would do the same. In fact, till now, I have some difficulty understanding what humans in general want or the reason for doing it. It's just that incomprehensible. Why can't they say it properly? Darkness draws itself as the day tomorrow waits, or rather, waylays me.