Toxic Mental Space

Binge-watching episodes of House medical series
and speed-reading MedsChat letters from patients
learning Tamoxifen increases chances of deadly
endometrial cancer by 50% while it can also cause
painful, debilitating arthritis: Western medicine is a
hellish invention driven by the horrible conviction

Living is suffering to be FORCED on humanity at all
cost especially quality of life, just breathing painfully
is promoted & disfigurement and pain are toted as
gain - but I say NO THANKS: I prefer life short and
sweet, letting go as soon as my body can’t continue
on its own & knowing the best preventative against

Painful medical intervention is lack of funds - I’m
going to spend my money on adventures not con-
sulting these quacks as I wish to die in peace when
my body succumbs to the toxic mental space we
self-defeating humans constructed for our race

[Wednesday 25 April 2018]

This Bluish Morgue -Rev. & Original

This Bluish Morgue [Revised]

Keep walking - though bones clack in
my leg - while dry, legal phrases have
me hacking at tufts of my hair, - which

resembles the infamous Donald Trump
coif; and after taking ergotamine for a
migraine that kept me insomniac last

night, & risking gangrene, should vaso-
constriction in my head continue into
fingers, toes and legs; I’m flummoxed

by things like adversarial proceedings -
& declaring nothing to report in my sad
self-assessment, it makes for absence

of existential justification to anchor me
to the world while slowly drifting in a sea
of rising and ebbing depression; my only

certainty is that my hacked-off hairstyle
reminds of a convict lifestyle - as befits
a hapless civil servant like me yearning

for the ability to feel enthusiasm - and
passion for something - clinging to the
symbolism of the rising sun converting

this bluish morgue of an office block
into a golden promise -
for tomorrow…

[I like both versions, each evokes a different
feeling, thus I'll keep both versions to muse
upon...]


[ORIGINAL:]

Keep walking through bones clacking
in my leg while dry legal phrases have
me hacking at wayward tufts of my hair
which resemble the infamous Donald
Trump coif, after taking ergotamine for
the migraine that kept me insomniac last
night & risking gangrene should vaso-
constriction in my head continue unto
fingers, toes and legs; I’m flummoxed

By things like adversary proceedings;
declaring nothing to report in my sad
self-assessment makes for absence of
existential justification to anchor me to
the world while slowly drifting in a sea
of rising and ebbing depression; my only
certainty is that the hacked-off hairstyle
reminds of a convict lifestyle as befits
a hapless civil servant like me yearning

For the ability to feel enthusiasm and
passion for something - clinging to the
symbolism of the rising sun converting
this bluish morgue of an office block
into a golden promise for tomorrow…

[Wednesday 25 April 2018]

Reflection - Tuesday 24 April 2018

If I had to choose between Zuma and Trump, I would choose suicide...