My blogging mentor, Terry H., has touchingly expressed some concern in his blog:
'I'm worried about David J
Dude, you sound like you're off your meds. Know the problem well. Be careful. I don't want another Motorcycle Diaries to deal with. Anyway, the only person you could go to work for today would be Chavez. Don't be like Matilda and run way VenzuelAH.'
I guess I've been sounding like some sort of contentious revolutionist-- but what pushes my buttons in the statement is the mood-control-by-prescription angle.
...well, Dr. Terry, if you're the one to write me some script, I'll consider taking the Big Pharma vehicle for a ride...I'm just not sure how much of a Gonzo-journalist joyride it might actually be.
To follow through on the bit of my late brother's story begun here:
Zoloft, Xanax & some updated version of Antabuse supposed to help curb Alberto's Gargantuan appetite for drink were the official chemical cocktail my late brother ran on.
Myself, I've been on Lithium & Merital on occasion, with not the most positive results...
Certainly seems like my libido will not 'go gently into that good night'-- I'll guess just have to get used to the shameful complexities of... browsing porn through bifocals.
--my fave Police song: Bring On The Night!
--'I couldn't stand another minute of daylight'--
Daylight Savings Time in Mendoza is like, to quote another little pop jewel from that late 70's/early 80's liminal shadowland,
'putting out the fire/with gasoline'...
feel down, fuel up
sink in thought & fill it out
release the lesser vehicle
to dive under ground & ride in style
out of the past
in fossil-fueled wingless flight
no landing strip
in sight or sound...