To be honest, I do not know where to begin.
One time, I was doing something and the next thing I knew, something was off–very off–though, I had no idea what, let alone recall what happened.
It was all vague.
Then, I suddenly became manic, in which it led to me being severely paranoid.
My sudden paranoia over nothing made me do something drastic.
Impetuously, I left my condo.
Throughout my unexplained runaway, I ended up wandering and hiding in the streets.
I ended up sitting from one corner street to another, all feeling nothing but the surge of paranoia.
I still had no idea what I was paranoid about.
Overall, I spent nearly an entire day leaving my home, all manic and paranoid, and concealing myself from everybody around me.
I spent about five hours outside of my condo, doing nothing but wandering and hiding in the streets like a vagrant, even though I am not homeless.
Suddenly, this came along.
I went to have pizza at a nearby pizzeria.
I ordered a slice of anchovy pizza and ate it voraciously.
Then… this happened.
I saved the paper plate after my spontaneous pizza lunch.
I went outside, and I perceived a large cardboard box sitting in that very corner.
I hid myself within the cardboard box.
I put on my headphones, listening to my hard rock mix.
I took out my pen that I always carry around wherever I go in case of a spontaneous writing inspiration.
Right there… inside that cardboard box… sitting on the street corner… with Linkin Park blasting through my headphones…
I wrote a poem on a greasy paper plate.
With all my impetuousness, I wrote a poem.
That poem?
You Don’t Know Me.
After it was done, I took the paper plate home after my five hours of wandering and hiding on the streets for no reason.
I read what I had written on it with all spontaneity.
I became proud of what I had written in spite of my still-unexplained manic and paranoia episode.
I then decided to publish it on WordPress.
It just goes to show:
Regardless of one’s mental health condition–in this case, bipolar disorder for me–sometimes spontaneity can be very creative, even if it means leaving home by instinct without a word.
I may be bipolar, though I am still capable of writing poetry that could correlate to other people’s experiences.
You Don’t Know Me
Every day I get rejected
Once or twice I was neglected
Eating only spaghetti and ramen
Living without a man or a woman
My budget is a shoestring
I don’t always have everything
Every day there is no rainbow
As I stare out the window
There is no technicolor TV
All I have is a black and white screen
Mom and Dad are not home
So I am all home alone
You don’t know me
I get rejected by cupid
I’m surrounded by everything stupid
Everybody is a jerk with might
I can’t even work at night
Living on changed and limited cash
Surviving on instant potato mashed
Surrounded by annoying laughter
There are people I wish to slaughter
Reading only worn paperbacks
People come to me to attack
Yeah, you don’t know me
You have no idea where I’ve been
Every day I think about death
I wonder about taking meth
Survival of the fittest, sink or swim
I lose at everything, I cannot win
Sleeping on the yoga mat
My only company is my cat
Someday, I may be rich
Problem is: Life is a bitch
My plate is filled with breadcrumbs
Taking drugs to make myself numb
Yes, I’m living like a widow
Mess is high, cleanliness is low
You don’t know me
I’ve been poor and hungry
Everything makes me angry
All I hear are loud, yelling voices
It’s not like I have any choices
Nothing but the clothes on my back
Surviving on microwaved cheese and mac
Every winter, I freeze
Every autumn and spring, I sneeze
Every summer, I bake in the heat
Every day, I get beat
Yeah, you don’t know me
You don’t know where I’ve been
Someday, I may live in a mansion
I may have clothes in fashion
I will swim in my own pool
Someday, my work will be cool
For now, I’m sharing what I write
Cheap food, I will no longer bite
I might have lobster and caviar
Even truffles and fancy wine at bars
If only everybody will see my success
I will clean up all this mess
I will not give up, I will persist
I will no longer be a mist
Everyone will see me win
After all, it’s sink or swim
You don’t know me
Someday, you will know my name
(C) by Nix Cheng, 2026