Medication, Please? Massa??

     So yea now I’m on medication. Again. Hopefully these pills won’t turn me into a raging bitch from hell like the first ones I tried. Or make me gain weight rapidly like the second ones I tried. But the doctor wrote me this prescription with promises that everything will get better. The attacks should stop, and I should be able to function normally now. But these pills make me sooo sleepy… Is that the key? Is that why the pills will “fix” me? I’ll just be too sleepy to be upset about anything. Wham, Bam, thank you ma’am. Well hopefully everything will work out. Or, better yet, the doctor will up my prescription.

!!!!!!!HAPPY 4/20/10 WORDPRESS WORLD!!!!!!!

As I’m sure you all know, today is 4/20! National Smoke Day, Horray! Did anyone buy me a “Happy 4/20 Blunt”?? No. they never do. Of all the unjust things! And this holiday is better than Christmas!! So roll, roll, roll a blunt! Pick out the seeds and stems!! Light it up and take a puff, then pass it to your friend!! *I love you, Mary Jane! You’re my main thing! When I’m feeling low, you make my heart sing!* WOOT WOOT WEED DAY!!

MyBeard

My beard grows to my toes.

I never wears no clothes.

I wraps my hair around my bare,

and down the road I goes.

~THE PURSUIT OF HAPPINESS~

Your average person spends they’re whole life trying to achieve the ultimate goal of happiness, but never quite reach the level of “happy” that they want. Is anyone ever really genuinely happy? It seems that every time we think of something that will make us happy, after we get it we find something else that’s shinier and makes us lust over it even more than the last item, idea, or belief that we were chasing. I think that we’re all entitled to the “Pursuit Of Happiness“, but never the “Achievement Of Happiness“. (Are you still following me? It’s important that you keep up.) Maybe it’s just our gluttonous nature as Americans that causes us always to crave more than what we have. What’s sad is that even if we looked past the material possesions and focused on love and family, most of us would still be discontent. It’s almost as if no matter how clear the sky is, our brains have been programmed to seek out the smallest whisp of developing clouds. We are an uncomfortable, insecure, materialized, gluttonous, lusty generation. And this is why we are still in the midst of The Pursuit Of Happiness.

Snow White & Seven Dwarfs

The fairy tale, contrary to popular belief, is wrong from beginning to end. Snow White IS a fair maiden indeed, but what she ISN’T is nice. The sing-songy princess that the fairy tale has led us to believe exists must be dead. Possibly, the real Snow White ate her. Snow White is a violent druggy. Well, she WAS  a violent druggy. She captured the seven dwarfs and enslaved them. All day, they would work in the mines to find her gold, then they would grind it into dust for her. She was interested in nothing but gold. One time, the dwarfs brought her diamonds, and she kicked them around like dogs. She snorted the gold dust, of course. Being the junky that she is. Sitting at the dinner table she would arrange some lines instead of eating. Each night, she would put the dwarfs in a line, and beat them one by one because they didn’t bring in enough gold dust. There was never enough for her. One night, the dwarfs found her dead in the bath. She had gone beyond snorting the gold dust. She had melted some down and shot it up. Snow White is dead. She died for a fix.

Jabberwocky –amazingnonsense–

Twas brillig, and the slithy toves

Did gyre and gimble in the wabe:

All mimsy were the borogoves,

And the mome raths outgrabe.

“Beware the Jabberwock, my son!

The jaws that bite, the claws that catch!

Beware the Jubjub bird, and shun

The frumious Bandersnatch!”

He took his vorpal sword in hand:

Long time he manxome foe he sought –

So rested he by the Tumtum tree,

And stood awhile in thought.

And, as in uffish thought he stood,

The Jabberwock, with eyes of flame,

Came whiffling through the tulgey wood,

And burbled as it came!

One, two! One, two! And through and through

The vorpal blade went snicker-snack!

He left it dead, and with its head

He went galumphing back.

“And, has thou slain the Jabberwock?

Come to my arms, by beamish boy!

O frabjous day! Callooh! Callay!”

He chortled in his joy.

Twas brillig, and the slithy toves

Did gyre and gimble in the wabe:

All mimsy were the borogoves,

And the mome raths outgrabe.

PaintBrush

I keep my paintbrush with me

wherever I may go,

In case I need to cover up

so the real me doesn’t show.

I’m so afraid to show you me,

Afraid of what you’ll do– That

you might laugh or say mean things.

I’m afraid I might lose you.

I’d like to remove all my paint coats

to show you the real, true me.

But I want  you to understand,

You need to accept what you see.

So if you’ll be patient and close your eyes,

I’ll strip off the coats real slow…

Please understand how much it hurts

to let the real me show.

Now that my coats are all stripped off,

I feel naked, bare and cold.

And if you still love me and all that you see,

You’re my friend, pure as gold.

I need to save my paintbrush, though

and hold it in my hand.

I want to keep it handy

in case someone doesn’t understand.

So please protect me, my dear friend.

And thanks for loving me true.

But please let me keep my paintbrush

until I love me too.