Post 253: More Oramorph — more able.
The pain is coming, I hear its noise,
But all I want is the drug that destroys,
I really don’t care about how this works,
I want a battle royale and let it usurp.
————
With a new idea about how lucky I’ve been I’m keeping safe to make sure I’m more able each day — no more back flips. It’s hopeless to imagine the wheelchair or crutches I need, to do normal things and to talk in a different younger language, if I had not had such a hard head.
The kids on the street are sounding like foreigners but they haven’t got to be seniors like me and you.
My finger is dancing again, it’s getting worse, it’s hard to keep up. If I “google” something — the answers are in Swahili and I need to get away to Zanzibar for a translation, mind you that would be fun.
What am I thinking about, I’m just not ready to fly. Zanzibar sounds so far away and maybe my dancing fingers will choose somewhere else closer to home tomorrow — “did you mean Zanzibar?”
Later the pain is dampened and the sounds are not so harsh, I’m calming. A trip to a randomly picked place is a world away from looking for a local day trip to distract my brain and make my feet sore.
What I want and get are shockingly distant but with my meek and mild attitude and fatherly nature will screw up finding something new and I’ll land up at the Natural History Museum, again.
And then I’m happy in a world I’m secure in.
I’m not more than two minutes away from it in my own imagination — if the trains run on time?
My own self is scared with the thought of this new world I could visit now. Now I’m free from Dr No. I’m not tied to the clinics and clinicians that held me back for so long from being normal. My normal “normal”.
Who am I now?
Did I really change that much?
Can I pick up where I left off?
Can my new normal be normal anymore?
Is 30 years of age out of the question any more. I don’t hardly know myself.
But realistically, 40 is out of the question.
But honestly my sixty-one-year-old self isn’t ready for bar-room acrobatics of adventures with my Darling at my side, keeping me safe from harm.
What is life anyway?
Is adventure tangled with love and sorrow, is history something we are making or reading.
There’s a lot to think about when all our plans go so beautifully wrong.
But there is time to set things straight.
I think I need less drugs and less thinking, to find a path that will work for all of us.
Good night.
