Medication Nation

For me it’s not a clear choice, definitely not cut and dry, have my issues with both, have to weigh the pros and cons—

Medicated I am more mind than heart, distanced—cut off from my emotions, I feel robotic. I have always had too much heart—feel too deeply at times and stare to long, let the sadness in. 

I don’t bemoan my lot or dwell on the hardships that befall me, I don’t hate myself or experience prolonged self-loathing.

I see the entropy of life, and love, and our slow slide into oblivion—so apparent—no amount of distraction, positive or negative, can pry my eyes from our station, its beautiful and its sad and its only beautiful because it’s sad. 

A life eternal in which nothing died—what value would there be in that, the midnight blossoms that never withers are weeds, and an existence in the eternal status quo is hell, so why should it be that I hurt to see the dissolution of the world? 

I cried seeing the woman cradling a doll, clinging tight because she’s 60 but she’s still 5—soldiers hardened by combat and killing still cry for their mother. I don’t know, its sadness, its part of what makes the world.