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...

The Sun Rose [R]

The sun rose in the most beautiful golden glow,
changing the office into a flaxen pond - and I’m
floating on waves of sunshine ‘midst the joy of
honeyed surfaces, where yellow light caresses
surroundings blessed with wooden bookcases

It is like an early morning’s outing in high wind -
an unceasing sound the air-con blows - like an
aeroplane taxing to take off into its stream; with
a cupboard between me & the sun, I enjoy the
golden light without getting fried: and oh, how

Perfect is this…

[Friday 16 March 2018]

A Living Hell

Compute the trade-off between taking drugs
which lowers quality of life while filling every
moment with aches and pains while relegating
sleep to a rare occurrence, to stay alive; and
taking no destructive drugs to die in peace

Prescribed drugs have more painful effects
than the original problems they’re supposed
to solve; drugs destroyed the brain cells that
produce feelings of happiness and without
the ability to feel content and hopeful and

Expectant, I have nothing of value: happiness
is more precious than wisdom because it’s the
fount of love which confers value on wisdom –
without happiness, nothing has value and I am
always looking for ways to escape desperation

But escape is fleeting; drugs rewired my brain
so I have no ability to retain pleasant ideas and
worse: I can no longer experience feelings of
optimism & joy - this is a kind of living hell …

[Wednesday 2018]

Luminous

The light is cold, a lack-lustre unleavened white
threatening death, trying to burn eyes from their
sockets, a one-dimensional glare like a morgue
in overexposure; but with large, luminous insect
eyes I float in a soft golden world created by the
light-brown lenses of cheap sunglasses to over-
come the menacing ugliness of this destructive
building aimed at killing the soul and feelings of
all who dare work here, changing us into robots

I laugh at them, lifted by the honey-coloured light
of my own devise which changes everything into
a soft sandstorm in a desert, far from the laser-
sharp shards which used to pierce my heart as
I walked down the passage to make some tea -
now I’m protected from the insidious pain of cold
ergonomic space in the most lethal emptiness
mankind can create, oblivious of the emotional
and spiritual death they inflict on the living

[Friday 9 March 2018]

NO Absolute Rules [Rev]

An office scanner which reads our palms to
open doors even reacts to electromagnetic
vibrations; when suffering a migraine or an
allergic headache it can’t read my palm, so
at times I have to leave without the scanner
succeeding & I climb through the turnstile to
get out - tho it seems I will spend the night
right here in the office building

This means freedom is woven through the
machines keeping us under surveillance; all
palm readers on 17 floors sidestepped by us
propping open doors obviating futile attempts
on repeat to get to the cloakroom & lifts; thus
how stupid to spend millions on security & an
army of guards for a low-priority building of
the Department Arts and Culture - it makes

Me proud of our finding new ways to dodge
the system, we’re treated like criminals while
real delinquents are running happy and free
in the streets: just because Government can’t
beat crime they spend their time harassing law-
abiding workers, thus justifying their useless
existence; as long as we retain our sense of
humour & remember life's a game with self-

Made rules for the single purpose of making
money without accomplishing anything; we’ll
be fine living all our reincarnations at the same
time - since we never learn anything except that
breaking rules is the only way to have freedom -
and that there are NO absolute rules…

[Van Wyk Louw Building, Thursday 8 March 2018]