I’m not big enough
I’m not strong enough
It isn’t wide enough
It isn’t long enough.
I’ve hear them all
You are not the first.
Not the best and certainly
You are not the worst.

Princess Tiny Meat
That surely is me.
As uninteresting
As a guy can be.
No fun in bed, but
How would they know?
They take one look
And away they go.

I’m not rich enough
Car’s not worth enough.
I live in the wrong place
No work done on my face.
Don’t know the right folks.
Don’t know the right jokes.
Don’t know the right dances.
Not worth taking chances.

Princess Tiny Meat
That surely is me.
As uninteresting
As a guy can be.
No fun in bed, but
How would they know?
They take one look
And away they go.

Not butch enough, yet
Who cares about that?
What matters in their soul
Is a big one for their hole.
It must be a big opening
That keeps them hoping
For an arm-sized toy
For such a fixated boy.

Princess Tiny Meat
That surely is me.
As uninteresting
As a guy can be.
No fun in bed, but
How would they know?
They take one look
And away they go.

There must be no talking;
Nothing but constant poking
Will satisfy the size-****.
Nothing matters but their ****.
No exchange of ideas or
Hobbies they can explore.
There is only getting laid.
And the conquests they made.

Princess Tiny Meat
That surely is me.
As uninteresting
As a guy can be.
No fun in bed, but
How would they know?
They take one look
And away they go.

It doesn’t take long to see
Where the gems can be
Among a sea of phonies
And disco show-ponies.
So, I tell them right away
There’s no bologna here today.
It runs off the size-queens
And leaves human beings.

Princess Tiny Meat
That surely is me.
As uninteresting
As a guy can be.
No fun in bed, but
How would they know?
They take one look
And away they go.

I thought it right to assess some antidepressants, which philosophers are more inclined to call mood enhancers.
This was during my foray into human enhancement, substances intended to enhance physicality, cognition or mood. Nootropic compounds concern the latter two categories.

The most commonly prescribed mood enhancers are serotonin reuptake inhibitors (SRIs), but it takes over a week for these compounds reach their peak effect.
Thus I approached them with the notion that a limited dosage might point to their character, though  not reveal. These considerations in mind, I set about acquiring a few miscellaneous anti-D's.

Fluoxetine was the first successful selective serotonin re-uptake inhibitor (SSRI), better known by its original brand-name Prozac. Fluoxetine has an acute biological half-life of between 1-3 days. Presence of a trifluoromethyl group on the compound deserves note, I wonder what the presence of electronegative fluorine atoms add to the psychoactive flavor of a compound (subjective effects).
I administered a single dose by mouth, there was some indication of subjective character. Light serotonergic sensations and seemingly benign mood-dampening, there is a ****** towards the positive. Waking headspace relatively uninteresting. Observed hints of oneirogenesis, did not manifest in enough character to be detailed - a sort of vivid, 'pulsive wandering, more pronounced in contrast to its waking character.
Good experiment, interesting results.
Ligand     Ki (nM)   Ki (nM)
Target      Flx            Nflx
SERT        1               19
NET         660           2700
DAT         4180         420
5-HT2A   200           300
5-HT2B    5000         5100
5-HT2C    72.6          91.2
α1             3000         3900
M1            870           1200
M2            2700         4600
M3            1000         760
M4            2900         2600
M5            2700         2200
H1            3250         10000

Sertraline is another popular SSRI, also known by it's original brand-name Zoloft. Sertraline has a variable half-life, on average 26 hours.
It's metabolite, desmethylsertraline, has a half life between 62-104 hours but is a far less potent Serotonin Releasing Agent (SRA).
The presence of two chlorine atoms is interesting. The usual, phenomenal serotonergicity is present and pushing towards the positive.
Some nausea, particularly when hungry (this disappeared after some minestrone soup). Some faintness after physical exertion. This dose did not promote onirogenesis. There was a moment of cognitive distortion when the proportions of a focal object seemed to be growing in-and-out, shifting in size.
Site                 Ki (nM)
SERT              0.15–3.3
NET               420–925
DAT               22–315
5-HT1A       >35,000
5-HT2A          2,207
5-HT2C          2,298
α1A        ­        1900
α1B                 3,500
α1D                 2,500
α2                  477–4,100
D2                  10,700
H1                  24,000
mACh           427–2,100
σ1                   32–57
σ2                   5,297

Escitalopram is an SSRI commonly prescribed for major depression and generalised anxiety. It is the (S)-stereoisomer of citalopram. The biological half-life is of escitalopram is between 27-32 hours.
I administered a dose and thought the phenomenal serotonergicity less apparent than fluoxetine but then gastro-intestinal disturbance was noted, I surmised it has a high affinity for 5-HT2C.
Any oneiric qualities were not readily apparent after a single dose, relatively little visual imagery which is understandable given its lack of affinity for 5-HT2A. I found this to be philosophically interesting. Mood elevation observed in bursts of conversation and as odd sensations, possible mental discomfort.
Ligand,
Recptr     Ki (nM)
SERT       2.5
NET        6,514
5-HT2C   2,531
α1            3,870
M1           1,242
H1           1,973

Venlafaxine is a selective serotonin-norepinephrine reuptake inhibitor (SNRI). Venlafaxine and its metabolites are active for about 11 hours.
Initial subjective effects similar to a very light empathogenic stimulant. Perception of altered attention-span/increased reflexive response; energizing yet paradoxically much yawning.
Ligand,  Vnfx      Dvnfx
Recptr    Ki(nM)  Ki(nM)
SERT  ­    82           40.2
NET       2480        558.4

Tianeptine is a tricyclic antidepressant (TCA) with an unusual mechanism of action. It is an atypical agonist of the μ-opioid receptor and has been described as a (selective) serotonin reuptake enhancer (SRE). It has a short duration as sodium salts [prescribed form] of between 2-4 hours but as sulfate this can be notably extended, some of its metabolites are active for longer than tianeptine itself.
Definitely anxiolytic, quite artificial; possible aphrodisiac. I find its opioid activity dissuading, requires caution.
Site          Ki (nM)
MOR       383–768 (Ki)
                 194 (EC50)
DOR      >10,000 (Ki)
                 37,400 (EC50)
KOR      >10,000 (Ki)
                 100,000 (EC50)
All other transporter/receptor/sub-receptor values are >10,000 (Ki).

Bupropion is a norepinephrine-dopamine reuptake inhibitor (NDRI) with affinity for some nicotinic receptors. Bupropion and its metabolites are active for between 12-36 hours. Interestingly it is a substituted cathinone.
Initial subjective effects similar to a fairly light stimulant. Perception of increased attention-span and improved cognition. It is an onirogen that is neutral in quality, enhancing vivid dreaming (a boon of its nicotinic affinity which is counteracted if the stimulant component impinges on sleep). Completely absent of serotonergicity, curious.
The N-tert-butyl group's effect is most interesting, how it affects metabolism and to what extent ROAs alter pharmacokinetics.
I took 150mg ******, as extended and as instant release (the latter was more pronounced). I thought an altered pharmakinetic profile might result from bypass of hepatic metabolism, so I tried 25mg insufflated and felt as if there was effect that it differed slightly from oral ROAs, but also worried that its metabolic fate is thence unknown (compare to the neurotoxic 3-CMC). What of other bupropiologues,
for example, 3-Methyl-N-tert-butyl-methcathinone? Indeed.
                        Bupropion    R,R-Hydroxybuprpn   Threo-hydrobuprpn
AUC               1                     23.8                                  11.2
Half-life         11 h                 19 h                                 31 h
IC50 (μM)
DAT               0.66                  inactive                          47 (rat)
NET               1.85                   9.9                                  16 (rat)
SERT              inactive          inactive               ­            67 (rat)
α3β4 nic         1.8                   6.5                                   14 (rat)
α4β2 nic         12                     31                                   no data
α1β1γδ nic     7.9                    7.6                                  no data

Moclobemide is a reversible inhibitor of monoamine oxidase A (RIMA), its monoamine oxidase inhibition lasts about 8–10 hours and wears off completely by 24 hours. Inhibiting the decomposition of monoamines (e.g. serotonin, norepinephrine and dopamine) increases their accumulation at an extracellular level. It tends to suppress REM sleep and so it lacks oneirogenic properties.
Feeling of well-being, less constrained by the usual anxieties; openness. Relatively unnoticeable side-effects when diet is carefully managed. Made the mistake of eating a cheese and turkey sandwich (i.e. foodstuff rich in tryptophan/tyramine), indications of serotonergicity later became apparent: feelings of overheating and flushing, slight sweating, racing thoughts and anxious discomfort. A stark reminder of Shulgin's old adage: "there is no casual experiment".
Combination with a select few tryptamines (not 5-MeO-xxT) should be safe, and synergistic (perfect for pharmahuasca); reputed to potentiate GHB. However, generally it is extremely dangerous to combine with serotonergic drugs.

From an airplane
The clouds
Are a soft
Blanket,
Tucked up
Over the Earth's crust -
Keeping it  cozy
and warm -
Even in winter.

From an airplane
The rainbow sheen
On the sea
Is a patch
On the ocean's
Dark Wal-Mart jeans -
Bringing life
To what's otherwise
Uninteresting.

From an airplane
The cities
(quotidianly)
Are just toys
Left by children on
Christmas morning
That could not
Compete with
The Next Greatest Thing.

Back on Earth
I'm a speck
On a sad rock
In a terminal sea
Under the
Never ending
White expanse
Of The Greenhouse -
Sweating,
In February.

I tried to make pasta salad for dinner
but my "healthy" pasta was spoiled.
The only little critters known to man that are able to microscopically sneak in to prepackaged wheat have won again.
So I settled.

I figured I'd make up for my starchy negativity by using "veganaise",
but,
of course,
it tumbled out of the fridge that day in my absence
And shattered.
....So I settled.

Cleaning the kitchen behind my
half-satisfying
yet
I- ate-too-much-of it anyway
meal shattered my glass across the tile,
Persistent tiny shards
just jutting from the grout
like my bruised confidence after trying to clean my soul
of the filth that holds me hostage.

As of today I've gone without car insurance for a month
I've been absent from school
because my attendance is hard-wired to my lack of a
functioning.....wallet.

I got caught in the rain this evening
wondering how long I've got before defeat
catches me by more than a single strand hair,
drowning me in a thunderstorm of
uncontrollable emotion,
pattering and piercing  my consciousness so hard
that when I finally got indoors,
I approached my filth with open arms of surrender--
soaked,
sitting,
And settled.

ponces! nancies! veritable egrets of men!
people pleasing anti-charismatic animals
philistines, every one of them,
everyone else

a curse upon their forebears and a curse upon their goings-on
terrible business, that
the world should be filled with boundary pushing eccentrics, that is progress!
a plague upon normalcy, a plague upon stagnancy
uninteresting, dying off, done
ugh!

greatness can not be expected of all but at least an attempt should be made
how else will we overcome, will we build our utopia?
what use is MY struggle when others are defeated in making a move past the remote
television is for swine
rots your brain and morals
I've swell morals, just look at them
my morals reach to the moon
my morals are so swell I should run the country
my morals aren't two millenia old scriptures written by the seers of goat-tenders
my morals are modern, they are sleek and well dictated, they represent the future
my morals defy the past, my morals create new paradigms
why, you could say my morals defy all of traditionalism
and a curse upon tradition!

who ever learned from the past
history is rife with naught but sufferance
forwards is the only direction
forwards is revealed only to me
my ideals aglow with the lumine of the future
they are entrenched in idealism
me and mine, we are ideal

Excuse me for my hurt,
I know you mean well,
And you want to inspire,
And uplift me,
But language is a fickle art.
One that can make the difference,
Composing tone and the words themselves.
And there is no greater insecurity
Than the one called Me.

Since the very beginning,
I have been openly listening,
Engaging in thoughtful discussion -
The subject of You, the percussion.
I immediately spotted possible repercussions.
I wanted, and I still do,
To know your essence,
But healthy exchanges
Involve equality,
And I don't want to be left hanging,
Feeling like I'm lesser.

I crave knowing the rest of your essence,
But have you no interest
In knowing the same?
Are our minds connected
Of the same fibers
Or are we what we weave,
Being different in how we perceive,
A lifetime of individual strings?

The only Person I should keep in my life,
Making me feel inferior and uninteresting,
Is Me -
And I shall escape that fate,
With unconditional love, and positivity.

I am deeply interested,
In knowing MySelf, loving MySelf,
And to You, who has shown limited interest
In simply knowing me,
You, I choose as a direction of my Purity,
You, unaltered and true,
You, and Me, Alone -

It all, once again,
Always begins with You.

Not long after the beginning, and a bit before the end, the Almighty said to Noah: “Is that your real name?” “Yeah”, said Noah: “you gave it to me, your ever generousness. I was hoping for something a bit more romantic, maybe even an extra syllable or two, or become all psychedelic and have a hyphen and a double barrel, but Noah is functional. I’m not complaining, a lot. After all what’s in a name? Wouldn’t a cactus be just as uninteresting if it was called something else? Why am I and my not very exciting name so humbly in your almighty and quite tedious presence?” asked Noah. “I’ve had a great idea”, said God: “and I want you with the very boring name to be the first to hear it.” “Can’t wait to hear it your Denseness, even if it is only half as brilliant as the square wheeled chariot and deep-fried ice cube you nearly invented for us last week; and as for the three-armed jacket, well what can I say? Jacob wears his every day and I won’t tell you what he does with it at night, as it involves folk music. And didn’t the Paisley patterned boulder illuminate the landscape?” said Noah “Oh good”, said God: “I do so enjoy it when the minions are attentive to my every word and trembling syllable, What’s the point of being an Almighty if you can’t Almighty it over the lower orders from time to time?” “I couldn’t agree more, your Bampotness. Even if you do appear to be a few slices short of a full loaf on occasions. So, what’s this big idea you’ve had?” said Noah. “I want you to build a boat, the biggest and bestest boat there’s ever been” said God. “Why”, said Noah, “we live in a desert, we don’t do boats; never have done, don’t get a lot of call for them in these parts, your Obliqueness. Ordinarily you’re every utterance is a symphony of sound and beauty to the sticky out bits on the abstract countenance you have so generously created for me, O Guano features. Couldn’t you do another plague of frogs and locusts? We loved those. Your subjects haven’t eaten so well since. Very tasty they were indeed, and so much more nourishing than the daily fare of cactus bark and centipede you dish up to us as we go about our increasingly diminishing mortal trespass. I hope you weren’t baffled by the paradoxical construction of that sentence. One Almighty’s punishment is another lowly minion’s business opportunity. I was running a fast food joint while it lasted. Made a change from the normal feast, where you have to catch your dinner before it catches you. Eat before your eaten that’s the Law ‘round here. It makes you feel more like a recipe than a person on occasions, your Compostness.” “Be that as it may, said God: “I’ve got some drawings which Eve helped me to make” “Eve?”  said Noah: “did you say Eve?” “Yes” said God: “Eve”, that’s what I said, she likes me more than all the rest of you put together and that’s why she’s my favourite” “This will be good” said Noah: “let’s be having it. Let’s see the cosmic blueprint of a less than useless boat that Eve devised” “I helped to devise it as well”, said God: “In fact I done all the pencil sharpening, and here it is.” Noah sniggered and said: “That’s not a boat it’s a camel!” “Brilliant, isn’t it?”, said God: “you’ve got to hand it to Eve; she’s a genius at this kind of stuff, and she says it will make me look jolly clever as well. And that will stop all you ungrateful and wretched minions from smirking and sniggering every time I have a wonderful idea.” “This is even better than the ten commandments, three dos six don’ts and a maybe” said Noah. “My Ten commandments were wonderful” said God: “even Moses said so.” “The only reason you have ten commandments”, said Noah: “is because you have ten fingers. If you had seventeen fingers we would have seventeen commandments; one for each digit. People who use their toes to count their fingers should avoid life’s mathematical complexities. And as for Moses ‘The Born Leader’ he’s a party hack. He’ll agree with anything you say as long as he gets his name on the tablet. He’s publicity mad. When he grows up he wants to chisel the definitive text on cactus attraction, for the benefit of future desert wanderers. Eve says he a bit of a Freudian fruitcake on the quiet, whatever that is. She also says, his mother told him he was adopted, and he’s never quite got over it.” “Why would Moses want to get over a cactus, seems jolly silly to me” said God: “He’s a complete basket case, according to the local grapevine. Never mind all that, let’s see the blueprint.” said Noah: “A wooden camel, only a cosmic idiot could imagine it. If it was a wooden horse it could have been sold to the Trojans, or a wooden cat to the Pharoahs, and I’m told the antipodeans go a bundle on timber budgies, but camels; nobody wants one, not even other camels. How did someone as colossally dense and as infinitely thick as your self acquire the surreallness of thought to imagine it in the first place?” said Noah. “You’re a bright little chappie for a minion”, said God: “Eve told me about the Greeks and their wooden gee-gee and I suggested a boat, then Eve pointed out that this was a desert, and consequently we need a desert boat. ‘One that floats on sand’, I said. ‘Not quite El Plonkero’ she said. Then Eve said we have to adopt and then apply some lateral thinking to the problem. She pointed out that we live in a desert and that we need a boat that sails in the desert. And then I had the mostest cleverest thought I’ve had in ages. We need a ‘desert boat’ I exclaimed. And Eve said I was a true plankton eater. She says the nicest things to me. A ‘ship of the desert,’ she says, ‘and what’s a ship of the desert?’  Quick as a flasher in the rush hour, I said ‘a camel’, and Eve replied that I was quite bright for a log, and that camel plus ship equalled wooden camel to sail away from here to some other paradise she called Hollywood, ‘Land of heavenly bodies and the drop dead gorgeous Brad Pitt.’” “And you believed her?” said Noah. “Of course I believed her”, said God: “she’s Eve and if you can’t believe in Eve what else is there to believe in?” “There’s an answer to that”, said Noah: “but you’d toast me like a heretic on the happy juice if I repeated it, your Doorknobness.”

Dust motes and sweat stains
Faded graffiti over rusted steel plates
Advertising everything, from politicians to a massage parlor,
The engine roars disgruntled, in smoky rancor.

I stepped on your feet, said I was sorry
Tell me mister, could you tell I was lying?
Pushing through the rush-hour crowd
I finally found my footing and was proud.

Well, there’s something to be said for low expectations
A word of praise for cranky co-passengers.
Not that the polite ones aren’t fun,
When they smile and roll their eyes like they’re so done.

And it’s not that I’d ever expect sincerity,
At 10 on a rainy Tuesday morning
I’m not a nihilist, or even much of a cynic by default
But at 10am, I take nice with a bucket of salt.  

I put on my headphones, crank the volume up to max,
Sway to the shrill screeching of pirated tracks
I’m sorry, did you say something? I can’t really tell.
It’s not you’re uninteresting, it’s just that this song is swell.

And maybe I could’ve made more of an effort
Gotten to know your name, exchanged toffees and emotional support
Maybe you’d have told me your story, if my ears were free
Maybe we could’ve found something worth a keep.

But you see, mister, it’s not you it’s me
At 10 on a Tuesday morning, I’m not the best company.
I hope, tomorrow, you’ll find a co-passenger worth your time,
As for me, facelessness suits me just fine.

Contemptuous of his home beyond
The village and the village pond,
A large-souled Frog who spurned each byeway,
Hopped along the imperial highway.

Nor grunting pig nor barking dog
Could disconcert so great a frog.
The morning dew was lingering yet
His sides to cool, his tongue to wet;
The night dew when the night should come
A travelled frog would send him home.

Not so, alas! the wayside grass
Sees him no more:--not so, alas!

A broadwheeled waggon unawares
Ran him down, his joys, his cares.
From dying choke one feeble croak
The Frog's perpetual silence broke:
"Ye buoyant Frogs, ye great and small,
Even I am mortal after all.
My road to Fame turns out a wry way:
I perish on this hideous highway,-
Oh for my old familiar byeway!"

The choking Frog sobbed and was gone:
The waggoner strode whistling on.

Unconscious of the carnage done,
Whistling that waggoner strode on,
Whistling (it may have happened so)
"A Froggy would a-wooing go:"
A hypothetic frog trolled he
Obtuse to a reality.

O rich and poor, O great and small,
Such oversights beset us all:
The mangled frog abides incog,
The uninteresting actual frog;
The hypothetic frog alone
Is the one frog we dwell upon.

I am a walking contradiction.
I am six feet, five inches tall
But I feel microscopic.
I am a proud Englishman,
Disgusted by his history and absent
Of allegiances to any land, any country.
I am a nomad, but there is so much I haven't seen.
I am filled with wanderlust,
But also crave routine, and hate change.
I am a passionate writer,
But it pains me to write.
I am so very concerned by the world,
Its people and emotions,
Yet I distance myself, want no part in it,
Thrive off any psychopathic habits I develop -
I enjoy the disdain I have for most people.
I am well-educated, above-average intelligence,
But I know nothing... and always will.
I am surrounded by people that I love and care about,
But I feel so often, so desperately alone.
I crave my own space, my solitude,
The freedom of my own head and my mind's
Undivided attention, but it haunts me,
And I miss the feeling of warmth beside me in my bed.
It taunts me. It makes me want to die.
I am a walking contradiction because I desperately
Want to live, if only to achieve something worth
Being remembered for, worth dying for.
There's no poetic justice, beauty in death of
An ordinary man with uninteresting achievements.
That is wasted oxygen to me, and wasted talent
(if you can even call it that for)
I crave success, but fear I am talentless.
I am a walking contradiction.
Sometimes I think I am delusional,
But, then again, I am one of the most logical people
I know. I'm boring. But I want to excite, to entertain.
I am not funny, but I want to make people laugh.
I want to live forever and die tomorrow.
I am a walking contradiction.
Nobody mourns the poor - of pocket or of soul.
I fear that I am both.
I fear that I am a walking contradiction.
Completely devoid of purpose, of meaning
But so hopelessly in love with the beauty of it all.