Please Be the Light

I never will be as Pink Floyd describes Comfortably Numb; I guess that is the beauty of my illness. I feel everything and I feel it so intensely that sometimes it is like being someone else.  It can be delicious in the maniac moments of the burning highs, yet it can be torture in deep despairing sadness of depression. That can spread over me like the nothing spreading over Fantasia in The Never-ending Story; it happens without warning and without mercy.
   The endless lists happen in both mania and depression the contents are what change. In mania it is the endless things I will accomplish and do, fix and wrongs to right. In depression it failures all with me to blame, wrongs, dashed hopes, endless news stories of crushed innocence and the consequences of an apathetic me me me society.  Sickend and weeping yet never am I numb.  I dream of my own ability close out this world of sycophants and narcissists to be able to turn away from the old woman begging on the corner.
   Today I have been sad to my soul wanting to weep for all those that lost their innocence.  That were hurt or driven down by the cruelties of this world and society that values it’s own reflection more than the pure flower of love growing beside it.  I read about cruel people who hurt or injury pure living souls and the raging damage they cause in the lives of the ones that loved the one they hurt.  I feel that sadness into my soul and I cannot fathom what creates that evil.
    I never wish to be truly numb.  That would mean to be apathetic and to lose my humanity. That I would and could not bare.  In our times of great horrors find the good better yet be the good.  Of you look around and cannot find the light; Please hold your torch higher some one is looking to you.