💪 😃 🥊 👋 🇮🇪

You have done it all. Walked through the most undeniably agonised of times. And for a very, very long time. You’ve experienced everything a mental-illness can possibly throw at you, AT ANYONE, and it’s not been easy. Not for a split-second. But, you did it!! You kept on keeping on, kept on doing the utterly mentally impossible. It’s time now to let it all fall-away. Won’t be easy, never was, but it needs to become easier for you. You know and understand this part the most, even when your brain does not appear to do so. You make me prouder than I can ever express or explain, to myself, or anyone else for that matter. You can live in peace now. Live your beautiful like as though EVERYONE IS WATCHING. Because, guess what, buckoo-fish 😆 😜… they soon will be. The scribbles will do that. You knew that from the very beginning, when nothing, ABSOLUTELY N-O-T-H-I-N-G, gave you the right to believe you could achieve precisely what it is that you want to achieve. It takes time. That is absolutely fantastic and fine by me, actually. I have time. So fucking much of it, and I have… my own peace of mind. Finally. Hold onto it for dear life, Boyo, because you did that! YOU made it the dearest thing in the world. In many ways it gives me everything a person could ever really want, to be perfectly honest. I know the depths of mental disaster and my bounce-back: OUTRAGEOUS!! Beyond that, even. I can scribble and create and utilise my broadminded brain, because it surely is that thing above anything else, really, and be happy with all that I choose to do. Automatic scribbles? Bring it… ‘til it eventually brings me to the acceptance of the Nobel Prize in Literature. Deluded? Cool. Then, let’s be utterly deluded for the remainder of my days, if this is what it feels like. Because, my scribbles? They are the most balanced I can ever feel whenever I’m doing it. It’s the most precious and precise thing in the world to me. My gift… to me.