There are no risks left to take. The notion of solitude hums with happiness. Bees gather particularly good honey and a hurricane stops suddenly, deciding not to embark on its natural terror hunt.
And I just keep avoiding the knives, the pills and the booze.
And the risk.
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Oh, but for how long? Lovely write. **
So much implied here. ***
I like this a lot. It is heavy though it starts like like the tiny Hemingway story: "Brand new baby shoes never worn." I think he also knew the risk (or many risks) of booze.
Thank you. I've just had the guts to start writing about being Bi Polar. It has always affected my work, I mean my darkness has. Still new to being out the crazy closet :)
**
"The notion of solitude hums with happiness." *