The Drugs Are Bad

Press play and then read. I mean it.

Chew Lips – Toro

I need drugs. A pill. I want to medicate. My mind is a sunbeam speckled and broken through the leaves of trees. My heart is wide open and expanding. It unravels from both ends, on and on, begging to be trampled on. I want to focus my love like a laser, drill down to your core and write my initials in cursive on the walls. I can’t. My hand closes around the light and remains empty.

My heart covers the streets like a carpet, unrolling down highways, through closed doors. Cushioning the strike of your gait, absorbing the shock of your heels. Keep walking, I am under you, I am everywhere your feet can go.

I need drugs or booze. Maybe I need God. I shut my eyes and clench my fists. I wait for a revelation. I look for symbols in the fire of my eyelids. All I hear is the blood beating in my own eardrums. I call it the whispers of God and wait to decipher the message. I give up chocolate for Lent and wish I weren’t an Atheist. I practice belief and cross my fingers that when The Rapture comes I will hold faith. I google ‘The Rapture’ to make sure I’ve got it right. I don’t.

I think about Armageddon. I hope it involves Zombies and if it does I wonder if I will handle a crossbow as well as I intend to. I wonder if this counts as faith. I wonder, again, how one acquires a crossbow in this city, anyway.

My heart flits from subject to subject like my mind, wired. I want to deprive it, sacrifice it, empower it.  I want to love like the ice caps melting. I want to rush your cities with tidal waves of emotion. I want to drown you, a quiet stillness, your suspended shapes inside me.

This is faith. That love is the answer. That we can ask no questions and it can still be the answer. That we can hate and rage and scream our dissent and love will still wait patiently, kindly, for us to pause and catch a breath. That love will punch us in the gut and tell us we were asking for it when we finally do, breathe. That we will shake our head and take it back every time.

I don’t know, maybe that’s abuse. If we call it love does that make it faith or ignorance?

I draft a letter in my mind. I post it without putting pen to paper. I weigh my loyalties, saving the words like last year’s wrapping paper.

And then I close my eyes and swallow this pill because it’s rainbow coloured and it’s love and you won’t know if it’s a bad trip ’til it’s over, anyway.

I love you all, thanks for reading.

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6 thoughts on “The Drugs Are Bad”

  1. You’ve written how I feel so much of the time, only, y’know, at least a dozen times better than I ever could. I wonder if it’s something wrong with the way that I think and feel that I never get that sensation of being fully settled. Not entirely sure religion is necessarily the answer (I was a Christian kid but then scepticism and cynicism found me) but we keep looking and grasping in the hope that the hand closes on something real. Not necessarily ‘real’ as in tangible, but rather in the sense that we can hang onto it for dear life.

    Maybe love is the answer. Whatever allows you to focus like a laser and quiet the voices (in a non-schizo way) in your head, whatever brings you peace, whatever makes you feel less alone in the world.

    p.s. we blog-love you too!

  2. I fucking love you too, Lindsay Bird. Take me for a ride in your Yellow Submarine.

    And I can hook you up with the best survival guide ever for when that zombie rapture hits. I’ll be right there beside you, handing you crossbow bolts. Or maybe just taking shelter with you in a seedy pub like in Shaun of the Dead, getting drunk and barricading windows until everyone else gets eaten.

    Make sure Ms Miet is there too? That would be truly psychadelic.

  3. this is the first time i’ve seen you write with a comedic tone.

    i think i like it.

    i bet you think you’re funny now. i think your face is funny.

  4. beautiful as always! i really like the bit about rapture and giving up chocolate; wishing you weren’t atheist. even in absence of belief, with all the atheists i know, myself included, there is always the presence.. talk of god, etc.

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