You can get it learning, you can get it watching, you can get it in the form of advice.
Matter of fact, I didn’t (okay, there was school).
See my latest post A Boy Who Loved the Written Word here.
As far as Bipolar Type 1 goes, ideas are, well, best tempered with medication and a dose of realism – especially when it’s things like a lefty anarchist alternative metal-themed restaurant, Grillin’ in the Name Of.
Or the ill-fated attempt to guide people through the mess that the world became, Jesusy stuff but for a profit (part of the post-manic episode period where the meds were still kicking in).
But the author in me says I should be selling books. Darling partner of mine, reader that she is, would gladly agree with me, but I’d have to take care of the ordering lest she orders ALL THE BOOKS, or all the fairy porn.
Yes, she got into THAT series.
Needless to say, you’d find my books front and centre, free signings at the register on the left. Then tucked in the back and the courtyard would be the cafe because coffee is our lifeblood (we had a coffee cart at the wedding).
Not a bad little dream to have, though the tempered mind of mine keeps me sticking to living, working, and writing. Maybe, though…
Wonder where this wonderful new blog is going? Catch last week’s post, Forward Planning, right here.
This Sunday, Queer Topic week, I’ll delve into my sexuality, and the phobia and erasure I’ve already faced.
T.M. Shannon 
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