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The gramophone shuddered
As unfamiliar voices swirled
Through its wallowing pipe,
Wondering when it grew so
Croaky, so old, so unlike itself.
It jingles,
one of those that are meant to go on lanyards but had ended up on my backpack as most things that aren't meant to be there do (see: tamagotchi, clothing button, safety pin…)

But it fits perfectly, I think, along all the rest
A sparkly blue image of a bottle with colorful flowers and smiles as the pills, and a prescription of
"Take your meds! :)"

Now, I don't need the reminder, seeing that I don't administer medication to myself (as if that'd stop me from collecting the white tablets the same way I collect jewelry boxes and bottle caps),
but there was hope that it would be useful to another prescription-riddled fellow.

A friend turns out to be one of these fellows,
but they're more amused by the shiny blue bottle and its implications than its intention.

"What do you take?" they ask.

I think about how invasive this question is, but I can't just reject it - its in good nature and I wouldn't want to be rude. But I had a pretty nice clean slate at the school, not one mental freak-out to taint my image yet.

And so, I try to avoid the question, but they persist.
And so, I say, "Escitalopram, 5 mg" because its too hard to utter that part of me that I keep so deep inside,
that seems to want to drag me with it,
deep deep inside myself.

They don't take the answer, asking what it's for.
I hesitate from internal panic before submitting.
"Depression, and anxiety," I say, as it were as much as a joke as I am.

"Oh," and then they look at me with that all too familiar look.
That look that questions how could someone so bubbly and loud and blissfully unaware of the wider world hold that kind of darkness within them.

I laugh at my joke,
at my pitiful self,
and continue on with self-deprecating ramblings.

"Did you hear about that specialized school that got a dog for the students because suicide rates were so high?"
"What? That's totally not fair."
"Maybe a few of us just have to sacrifice ourselves to convince them to get us one"
Today I took
The long way home
Added a few extra miles
To my beat up VW while
Listening to some oldies
And watching the sun rays
Gently finding their way
Through the trees before
Fading in the horizon

Today I took
The time to see past the
Darkness I was plunged in
To appreciate there's beauty
In the perpetual changes of life
For most things might never
Be as they once were
But what matters
Will remain...
Almost forgot how beautiful life can be...
Today feels
Different
And yet
At some point
It will feel
Like
Yesterday
Moving on.
~
--third transmission--

time to be
less than alive
tube in, tube out

for madmen only
in struggles for utopia

semi-super friends
marching the hate machines
into the sun

the dehydrated sun

smashed into splinters of dead light

keep out of sight
keep behind the light
or it will hunt you down

make you one of
the thin pixelated crowd
washing their sins with stardust

the little hand is overhead...

--losing transmission--
~
'Filled the hummingbird's font, once more.

The one old ruby head that stayed the winter,
assuring me and any watching, winter

this year shall be sufferable, dry, little
or no snow… in Southern California.

Though fire from wires routing lightning
to enlighten the night may respond
to prayers from stargazers,

after the smoke clears,
leaving night as dark as death, yet

the prognosticating humming bird,
remains a joy to feed.
Darkest night in Malibu, since one as old as me remembers.
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