(He revels in Hypomania)

I.
By the time we got to my parents´ place for the weekend I realized I´d been talking incessantly the entire trip about my job: A two hour-long sentence with barely any punctuation in it, not stopping once for a drink of water or taking a breath, and that had merely been an aftershock from the previous hours at the office.

As with most manic episodes go I crashed for half a day in bed aftewards then woke up mum and taciturn as if god himself had died. I picked up pen & paper and started doodling little irregular, jagged lightning bolts on it, for no special reason whatsoever.


II.
(do you remember what you told me about my lightning bolt-fixation, that time at that pizza place with the crayons...? It´s stuck with me ever since, and I think you were right all along.)


III.
Swear on a stack of bibles man, one of these days I´ll just break...