Pills

As a penis-haver, I've always been curious about boner pills. The idea that there are pills that make you hard and aroused whether you want to be or not is fucking wild to me. I read an article once about a guy who took some as an experiment and tried as hard (heh) as he could to not get a boner, and I've been intrigued ever since. Having a possessed dick, animated by the unholy machinations of mad chemists, sounds like QUITE the novel experience.

A pill to make you numb A pill to make you dumb A pill to make you any body else All the drugs in this world Won't save me from myself.

Oh lord, how I miss it. I miss the tiny wadded cigarette pack cellophanes, tucked in the tiny pocket of my jeans, my bra, my sock. Hidden deep in a (sometimes hidden) pocket in my purse. Clenched in my hand, I can feel the small weight of a certainty, A little, solid chunk that will form barrier of chemicals against the night and the truth of the soul.

I don't miss the sickness, the loss of trust and friends, the shameful selling off of property, the begging, the nights spent naked in front of a fan one second, then curled up in three blankets the next. I don't miss the hallucinations, the delirum, the diarrhea, the glaring sunlight diffused only a little by the frosted bathroom window, hitting my eyes and sending shards of glass into my eyes and brain as I sat on the edge of the tub, emptying my guts and crying. Nor do I miss the idiocy, the inevitable lack of intimacy, the resentment, The inability to stand, nevermind enjoy, the touch of another human. These reasons are why I'm clean.

But goddamn, I miss the chemicals dissolving into the mucous membrane in my sinuses, the soft halos coming in around everything, the relaxing muscles. The softening of the edges of the entire world. Everything receding: people, debts, hunger, desire, misery and angst. The ability to truly care about another person. Half an hour later and I'm stoned, able to watch TV and sit still. I never sat in one place without fidgeting until I was seventeen years old, and bought six milligrams of Xanax in two milligram bars off of that skeezy kid I went to high school with who ended up going to jail when he was twenty for selling a cop pills and coke. Calmness is such an inattainable thing for me, once I found a fool-proof way to have it on demand, I couldn't resist.

I can live without it. I know that. The trouble is convincing myself that I actually want to, some times.

The insomnia is back…so are the little blue pills that leave me groggy the next day but without them I can’t function in the real world. Sometimes I think my brain has been wired wrong. On a lighter note finally posted a stupid story I haven’t had the courage to do this before and I’m feeling pretty optimistic which is a strange new feeling for me…so trading sleep for happiness worked out this time. But I’m really starting to hate the color blue.