Counterpoint

My bipolar condition is kicking in right about now.

A little something from the Commentaries of the Maud'Dib (if you don't know who that is - your loss...)

Any road followed precisely to its end leads precisely nowhere. Climb the mountain just a little bit to test that it's a mountain. From the top of the mountain, you cannot see the mountain.

I write this as I look at mountains. I see Iron Mountain, dominating the large window frame. I see the runs of Dreamscape and Dreamcatcher to the right and the runs of PCMR obscured by the diminutive bulk of Quarry Mountain. Bald Mountain is obscured in the clouds...

Snow blankets the earth, outside is filled with the noise of the highway, with the smells of nearby restaurants comingled with that of the highway. Here I sit, before me a picture of serene, stark beauty, cold in its depth, warm in the body and cold in the heart. My solitude is punctuated by little, only the tapping of the keys, and the muttering of voices behind me.

What does this reflection indicate to my soul, what truths from it do I glean?

Yep, that's right - life fucking sucks, (but I'll qualify it with) at times. Then in the next moment you remove yourself from your own self pity and shame and realize that the world doesn't give a shit if you're happy or not. Happiness is like the lands of Elysium. Something we all can attain in death, but we only get fleeting glimpses of it in life. I have determined that happiness is what you make. It's not a state that we wretches naturally dwell in. The gossamer sheen it places on moments in life are what make us pick ourselves up and in the immortal words of the Chairman of the Board "...get back in the race. That's Life. And as funny as it may seem, some people get their kicks stomping on a dream..."

To again hold her hands and look into her eyes on the shores of the sea.

Crazed American, out.