Sunday, February 27, 2011

White (And the Plot to Vanquish the Worm)


My room is hideous. I wouldn't invite a pig over. I quit smoking. I have no craving for it what-so-ever. I have a strong urge to fly. But I've got nowhere to fly to. I'm hungry. It's raining. It's nice when it rains in the summer. It reminds me of when I was younger and I'd play in the woods behind my house. The air would begin to hiss because the little rain drops are all falling into the woods with me and hitting all the leaves. My mother or father would usually call me in if it started raining so I only had a little bit of time. But I remember slinking back up to the house because I liked the rain and I liked getting soaked. I started taking Prozac yesterday. The effects have been...
Well, I can't really say.
I think I've had ups and downs. But i can't exactly attribute that to the medicine. I've read that it may take up to a month or longer for the desired effects to begin. I can't wait that long. I need something to change. I want to be happier, more productive with my time, friendlier, healthier. I want all these things but I can't wait that long. Maybe I'll get a muffin. Maybe I'll finish writing this post and reward myself with a muffin.

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5 4st f64nd the n40ber 36c2 6n the c60*4ter.
(I just found the number lock on the computer.)

What typically happens next is I scramble to the next idea that I can secrete onto the page. A lot of people take this drug. It's a brain drug so it's not uncommon I would have my reservations about it. I mean, it exists merely to change my brain. I don't want to be medicated. A lot of people are prescribed medication just like this one. I hear that it's over-prescribed, like not everybody who takes it needs it. I'm not completely sure I need it. Maybe I do, but I think I have this savior idea of what it will do for me (see above). Like the über-drug. Two days ago I didn't want to take it because I honestly thought the change would be so drastic I would be something or someone I don't want to be. But who knows what I want anymore.

When I was little, I told myself, "When I grow up, I'm gonna be somebody."
So what did you become?
I dunno, I guess I should have been more specific.

It's over-prescribed. People want attention. I want attention. But not attention to my problems. I want attention to what I can do. I want attention to my writing, my ideas, my art. What use is it to bring attention to my medication? How does that help somebody? Perhaps if somebody needed help as well. I would help them. That would be relevant to my medication. Otherwise, fuck off. Where was I..........................................................................
Oh, my art. No. That wasn't where I was....................................

So a lot of people take this medication right? I don't want to be that guy. The one that talks my ear off about how I take this and I take that. For those of you just tuning in, yeah, those people exist. And they aren't favored in this or any other social tier. On the same token, I feel like absolutely nobody wants to hear it anymore. It, being anything slightly pessimistic or depressing that may come from my mouth or my pituitary glands. Why do I care? Why do I feel this way? Is it because I do want to draw attention to my medication? Oh dear, have I imploded upon myself? Have I exploded upon my own grenade? Well hopefully the über-drug treats 3rd degree burns.

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