14 days of mania

Standard

“What the fuck”
The voice screams
From the back of my mind
This other half talks sense
As I continue to
Drink and ridicule
A friend sitting in front of me
I feel it
The manic me, you see?
The charmer
Witty woman
Intellectual
Who throws metaphors like ropes
Reeling people in to her trap

This person who screams sanity
Outside the wall of my cerebrum

I ignore

 

Dear, you
Shut the fuck up
You’re not being funny
You’re being cruel

Episodic
I know that this is wrong but I continue
I continue to indulge in wordplay
In luring the other person
Like
A spider dragging in its prey
Being a charmer
Before
I dissect their entity
Raw open
Exploit it
For the inner sinner

Frankly, I enjoy it
As sanity screams to be let in
Inside the house
Where
Manic me, resides
Until next time
The insane one says
As I creep under the sheets
From a night out
Haven’t slept for more than four hours
For the past 14 days
Deeply saddened on what I did
But heck, I was the life of the party
“You’re happy” they said
“I’m always happy”, I lie through my smile
Because I am not
But you see
How do I tell you that I love this
I love the manic me
The conqueror
The winner
The one who emerges victorious

Euphoria doesn’t last
Sadness settles in
“Like always” I mutter to the other self
As I wave to the manic
The hypomania is over
My mind welcomes
Depressive mania
With open arms
As sanity screams
Oh fuck! Here goes another 14 days

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About Bano

I’m trying to find a better introduction but since, I can’t? Hi! I’m Sheher Bano Zafar and I write. I write not because there lies aspiration to be a writer someday but because, it keeps me sane. I love the color silver, black and grey. I also realize that they fall under the same color tone. Whatever, I write is a result of my 3 a.m blues or insomniac depressive tendencies. I can’t write during the day. I’m addicted to caffeine and well, anything and everything (if I like it). Also, I suck at conversations. I bite my nails. Most of the time I’m clueless about the world around me. I love politics and youth activism. People tell me that art and politics don’t belong in the same mind, but I’m passionate about both. One day I might be drawing on a canvas or writing a story and the very next day I will be heading off to attend a summit on the role of youth at the United Nations. I have multiple people trapped in the same body. Each side does try to express itself, in minimal ways if not fully. I’m currently going through a rough patch in life. I guess, I’m adjusting to the world through multiple perceptions. I absolutely love talking to myself because an expert opinion is always required. Most of the time, I just play scenarios in my mind that would never happen. I’m very contradictory in my thought process and actions but it is okay, people get to be what they want to be as long as no other soul is hurt. Peace out!

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