Prescription pills and over the counters can be a double edged sword. They’re a reminder that our bodies are fragile and don’t last forever. Our bodies manage a lot of wear and tear throughout the ages of our lives. There’s always a fresh batch of meds to relieve constant ailing distress; however, aren’t our lives like an illness? Doesn’t it have the capabilities to cause chronic pain?
One debaucherous mishap can transform it from sugar to shit. Usually, we’re all thriving and surviving through life. So, we visit our doctors (friends, family, self-help gurus, ourselves, etc.) for a prescription (advice) then manage the doses. These doses may include: relationships, religion, sex, recreational activities or some remedy to ease the discomfort. The remedy works, but we’ve used up our last refill. The craving delegates our ravenous urges to a generic substitute: an equivalent effect to sustain tormenting aches.
There’s a duality that lies between the physical and existential. I know about the necessity of medication; it alleviates my chronic knee pain. Medication isn’t bad…just make sure to use in moderation.
I written a poem describing the matter of medications and I also added my sketch of an erratic feline in an euphoric affair with pills. Take a look and masticate on this food for thought.
Half before Bedtime, One to Two Needed for Pain
I lie in bed meditating on liberation,
my equilibrium is harshly maladjusted.
These pills sedate me, minimizing my afflictions:
an insufferable knee pain of unknown origins;
a sleep disorder with an erratic sleep cycle.
Surprisingly, my tranquility comes with a price,
side effects include:
Bouts of irregular vertigo,
Impaired judgment that stupefies me,
Inappropriate times of fatigue,
and dreams becoming freakish nightmares.
High tolerance cause less effectiveness
but dependency has weaken my system.
A constant struggle to alleviate my suffering;
a reminder of damned if I do or damned if I don’t.