All Posts

Bipolar Writer

The Unsigned Writer

Bipolar Writer

Written By, J. M. Lilin

It is not the words they say because it is the words they do not bother with. Every night, I am finding myself more, and more alone. Making my mind start to wonder what its purpose is.

Hearing the depth of silence splits my mind in two. Making myself a bipolar that is unknown to myself.

It hurts to know that if I asked, they wouldn’t care. If I told, they wouldn’t understand enough to know. As I reel in the truth and see what they see is my worth, I fall away into darkness.

It is the anger that shifts next, powerful and merciless. I burn all of the books and I throw away the key. I get rid of anything that could be.

 I run away across a marble of words. No weather exists inside except for thunder. Then I look up at the storm forming. The glass breaks and rain mixes with salt. The ground stretches out and I fall in between.

When I start to vanish, my vulnerability is forgotten. I am not dealing with the world anymore. Instead, I am facing the fake faces in front of my own. I show every mind with just one word. Then each part of me fades away with each drop of ink. Every pencil is cleared away as each paper is filled.

I have found a new purpose. I found a new me. I will not fit in anymore but at least I do not have to be something that is shattered. The scars fade as each word is put into something visible. My audience grows and so does my purpose.

Requests for something that I am worthy for is overwhelming me and I stay past midnight. Sheets of every hobby mixed into a mass of words. Every part of me is given away into the movement of the pen between my trembling hands.

Morning sunlight came through and I could wake up to my work surrounding me. I could see the imagination that had filled my soul and the creation it had aided. I could remember my old-self as if it was years ago and now, I was looking at a new person.

I created a land through the keys that others could see. They appreciated it. They told me to keep going. They told me they loved it. That it touched them. That they wanted more. I felt something other than numbness. It knocked me out with creativity, and it took only a month for me to create a thousand different worlds.

Every piece of me is shared in a cryptic sentence and those that can define it are already a part of me. If you see it, then you are one of them. If you are one of them, you and I are in a similar dimension.

It does not matter anyway. For we will never speak. We do not need to. I have faded away into never being seen in reality but instead through these written words. I will hide away in a whirlpool of words because it is the purpose that drives me.

I have been gifted with imagination and my motives come through creation. You see me on your planet, but I live in a different world then you. I will let you visit but my name is not written normally. You can find me through the words that I am told to write. You can find me kneeling at the throne of the Unsigned Writer.

Thank you for reading this writing by J. M. Lilin on, The Unsigned Writer. If you’re enjoying this site, leave a like, and subscribe for more!

Also Check Out J. M. Lilin’s Photography At, The Crystalline Mirage.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s