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Will I Ever Get There

So elated when pain abated - migraine making my
eyeballs pop as if starting from their sockets, had
to lie down after one bite into a honey glazed fatty
rasher endowing me with a fibreglass spine

No help in reading - no inspiration in images or
thoughts, seeking a space to park my mind - I
cannot change my mental station to the right
frequency, stuck on infamous planet survival

Where joy must be derived from the mere fact of
existence - I prefer being happy to existing like a
vegetable - but tonight I’m a small piece of
mineral without the requisite magic

No visions and dreams to redeem my ideas, to
make my brain secrete serotonin or more up-
lifting compounds – here I am, sitting up-right,
bored with TV and breathing alike

Every cell is alive - seers claim; every wish for
improvement is answered - Elias, the latest in
my spiritual pantheon, says I am blocking well-
being that would have been - if only I were

More trusting and sociable; if it means wandering
though social chat-rooms exchanging opinions, I
might as well wander with the Israelites through
the desert after their escape from Egypt:

Will I ever get there? />

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