Homeopathy

Great pleasure of benzo sleep, clutching a pillow, surrounded by cats, in my regal, virginal bed. Without the grains of Ativan - I don't need much - I take an almost "homeopathic" dose - I'm up every two hours in existential panic still. Drugs, judiciously employed, can be most merciful. My Effexor dose up also since my incident of rage and hysteria. I have been on many dates since that happened, and they have all been interesting, but I haven't felt that crucial little 1/5 of a second, that "mechanical trickery." Sometimes I wish I were a man, if only because, you know, most of them seem satisfied to just...ride the first cab that comes along. Perhaps that's an untrue characterization, but let's say I've just noticed...less discernment... in that gender. A woman in a seat near me on the subway this morning is eating a piece of fried chicken; what a nauseating smell I would like to ask her to move but am heroically tolerating it. Why? Because at heart I am a good person, no matter what anyone says. You know, they flee from me who sometime did me seek. It's simultaneously snowy and sunny. I'm now in a cafe. Thriller is playing, my tea is steeping, I'm stuffing words into the crevice cold wind blows through. Ain't I a wombat? Rags, dryer lint, old newspapers, words, gravel, a gravelly voice, words, words, words. Frozen human stopped in lifestyle flow many syringes I'll be missing you like a night missal yeah nowhere my friends ridicule I'll be missing you like a large pump it up do you want milk? Stuffed in the crevice. The waiting is craven. The little ump inside of you wants to be re-evaded, along with the garlands, enough of these streetcars, no one's watching. The poultry is so pure, we could all glow together. You know you've been watching, you can't stay away. Lips are upside the world. Tuna? More milk than toy cow. Frozen marginalization. No one calls, it's that much of a mechanical whirr. No hell below us, etc.


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