Reset –

 “And falling’s just another way to fly.” ― Emilie Autumn
Once in a life, an experience will happen that leaves us utterly, breathlessly, completely reborn. Whatever it was before, the life that exists in this present is a catalytic mix of creative and destructive forces, a physical and spiritual hodgepodge of elements that are made new by their interaction. However forced together and fused…I am new. Not wholly unlike the previous, but still unknown to any who knew me before. Given that, there also breathes a creature that’s been exposed to numerous life changing events, and there my friends, is where I find myself this morning. I’ve no clue who I am, where I’m going, or how the hell I got here. The events that led to this are not important, every person has pain that no other will understand, and comparisons are irrelevant, except perhaps to understand that we all have them. I compare this experience to a free-fall, things speed by and my only concern is that I’ll forget to pull the rip cord. Sometimes I want to hasten the inevitable, sometimes I want to slow down and enjoy the ride. Right now, I’ve tucked my arms in close to my sides and faced the future. My skin ripples with wind and I’m screaming, half out of crazy release and half out of enjoyment. If you happen to see a blur, don’t worry, it’s just me and by the time you realized it, I’ll be very, very, far off.
 First published in

Little Pills

“It is not seen as insane when a fighter, under an attack that will inevitably lead to his death, chooses to take his own life first. In fact, this act has been encouraged for centuries, and is accepted even now as an honorable reason to do the deed. How is it any different when you are under attack by your own mind?” 

These little pills, make me all of me.

Many times, taking one

and sometimes three

I shake my head, tsk tsk, I’m not awake

I sleep with my eyes open

its not all fake

This daylight walker needs to really know

these little pills

aren’t a pretty show

In the noisy stillness of slippery caverns

my madness breeds

like drunks in taverns

I’m held aloft by the chemicals they give

Is this really me,

or the little pills I hid?
Prescriptions are given to those with mental illnesses that produced a variety of effects both positive and negative. The thought occurs to me, is this the real me when I take the pills? Or is this another me produced by them? Do I want to be the real me? or a product of chemicals? Can I be me when under the influence of these treatments? This battle of identity is the primary reason I don’t take psychotropic medicines (even those prescribed), I just wanna be the crazy, insane me. There are however some conditions that are treated with meds which, if the subject is to be in society at large, need to be adhered to. Always seek professional help about going off your meds.