While I've not been able to identify any particular side-effects from the Celexa, I have been very tired. DAMN! Why do all these things make me sleepy??? I suppose that (for most folks) something that was speedy would NOT be very good for anxiety ... but I don't mind being hopped up, I just want to get to the point where dealing with financial stuff doesn't spin me off into panic attacks, stuttering, and general mental shut-down! I guess the problem is is that what I'm WANTING is what I used to get (back in my 20's) from combining way too much Gin with way too much speed ... the Gin would shut down all the bothersome bits of my brain and the speed would keep the useful bits up and functioning. Actually, Opium had pretty much the same effect on me ... I suppose if I was living in Kathmandu, I could just get the corner pharmacy to fix me up with a nice Opium supply! I don't suppose there's any chance of this shrink working up a scrip for it (yeah, I know ... I'm drifting into Burrough's Junky persona ... it's always there beneath the surface anyway).
Well, got another new poem. Back in the Process days I suppose they'd say I was becoming more Luciferian (to those with that background, I was typically more of a J/S than any sort of L) from some of the "fall" themes coming up. Of course, that particular mytholgical theme has hung with me, the "fallen into this debased world" concept, which surfaces from time-to-time. Oh, well ... give it a click ... I think tonight I'll be updating the archive with the stuff from March so far.
FALLEN STATUS, SO DEBASED
forms of such desperation
in the unaccepting day,
we wander blindly,
searching out one thing
which would institute a change
and would make the darkness
compile into that light
so desired within
we walk among the dead,
somnolent, grey and dull,
they won't know this light
were it to well within;
they'd stir in slumber
and utter pleas in sleep
to synch to the mass,
the zombie shuffle life
always alone here,
without allies,
without aid;
cast on the rocky shore
of this mundane world
with no fire, no food,
no shelter and no way
to see my home again
how did we lose
that station,
that excellence,
that gleaming state
of prior worlds?
how came we here,
cast so low,
abased into this pain?
dreams and visions rise
within unrested brains
the messages they bring
are unscrutable and vague
but point to something
some hidden key
deep behind the surface
ever far away
- Brendan Tripp
03/16/2002
Copyright © 2002 by Brendan Tripp
