I’ve been blogging for at least a decade. I blog fiction, stories of my artistic endeavors, bipolar issues, and computer programming, but I’ve never written a regular old blog. No theme. No particular subject matter. Just whatever I feel like writing. I have a lot to say. I have so much to say, in fact, that I often talk to myself on my commute. I interview myself, I speculate, I work things out, I entertain myself.
I write tons of Facebook posts, many of which I never publish or if I do, I often delete them. I just don’t want to overwhelm my friends with my always preaching my preach.
My wife says I’m complicated, and I tend to agree. The bipolar brain is by nature complicated, but there’s more to it than that. I’ve always been a heavy thinker. Nothing I think, say, or do is simple, at least when you compare it to my wonderful wife. Simple-minded isn’t an appropriate word for her, but things are just more simple for her. I suppose I should envy that, but I wouldn’t know what to do with that kind of brain. It’s kind of like the idea that if you gave a out-of-shape guy a perfectly fit body, he would likely be out-of-shape again within a year or two. That’s what I would do with a simple brain. I would find a way to make things more complicated.
But the truth, as I know it, is that life IS complicated. Take religion, for example. Some might say that there’s nothing more to it than to love your neighbor and love your God. And they might be right. If you did those two things, then you’d have it. But the truth is, loving God and loving people are not so simple to me. And perhaps it’s not so simple in all actuality. I suppose I won’t really know until I croak!