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Jeff Gaines Mar 2018
Hello everyone,

  I'm so very sorry … I feel horrible doing this, but I have no choice. You see, I have published my first book on Amazon/Kindle! This piece (and many others) had to be taken down because they do not allow published material to be available online for free. (Go figure) I wanted to leave the shell of the posts because I felt compelled to leave all your helpful and loving comments. (Silly sentimental, I know), but I also didn't want to just have the pieces disappear without an explanation. I feel bad enough as it is!

  I owe ALL of you so, SO much for all of your reads, love, and support. It was YOU that gave me the gumption to FINALLY get off my **** and publish! Thank you all for the warm comments, camaraderie, and encouragement! I will still be here, reading, uploading and just being the Rascal that I am. How could I EVER leave you guys?

  The book is called “The Way I See It – FictionPhilosophySoul Food” and it will be FREE for the first few days on Kindle Select, so watch for it, if you are interested. I hope that you go and grab it. If you do, I would also hope that you find it worthy, you would leave me a good review. That will help me get in the public eye! Soon afterward (2-3 days or so), it will be available in paperback.

Find the book(s) here:

Or find the book(s), and all about me, here:

  Soon after, I also hope to have my first novel (a supernatural thriller), called “Wanderer” available as well!

  Wish me luck!

                                                          ­             Big, Biggest Love,

                                                          ­                    Jeff Gaines
Kinda speaks for itself. I have a "MySpace" page ... somewhere. Haven't been there in years. I NEVER did FB or ANY of the others. And now ... watching it's destruction of our social structure, I am glad I listened to my intuition.

All of the goings on (suicide induced by bullying, SHOOTING rampages in Schools, etc.) have somehow inspired me to coin the phrase "(Anti)Social Media". Feel free to use it and maybe it will open some eyes.

I hope the world wakes up.

See also:
sara Jun 2018
I'm anti-attachment
and I cant help that
I'm a hardback book bound tight-
Always on the rewrite
every word placed right
because it's so important;
that you read me right;
that you see things right;
undress your mind for me
under the right light
God above
I don't want tears tonight
if I tell you it's not serious
or when I make you work or wait
it's obviously worth the work
and even more than worth your wait.
I don't like games
I play it straight;
you're either with it
or you ain't.
So if you do not like the blurb
don't bother reading my first page.
something other than love poetry for the lady in the back please
I thought it right to assess some antidepressants, which philosophers should be 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. I therefore approached them with the notion that a limited dosage might point to their character which would further manifest in the long-term. (Side-effect were this unlikely to be fully manifest.) These considerations in mind, I set about acquiring a few miscellaneous anti-D's.

Fluoxetine was the first successful selective serotonin reuptake 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 flavour 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, intresting 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

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 correctly surmised it has a high affinity for 5-HT2C but was also surprised to find it is is quite adrenergic.
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 intresting. Mood elevation observed in bursts of conversation and as odd sensations, possible mental discomfort.
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; energising 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 utmost caution.

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), indications of a mild serotonin syndrome later became apparent. Symptoms included 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.
Jaimie Ramirez Dec 2018
Put others before myself
**** everything
I don’t need your  help
All this pain that I’ve dealt
On my come up  
Can’t tell me **** bout my wealth
All this madness
Bad for my health
It’s tragic
Dreamin bout reality
Like its magic
Lately I’ve been feeling like
It aint gone happen
This my life story
Learn more of me
Really feelin unimportantly
Distant for a reason
Got Bipolar issues
Im like the seasons
Ion even mean it
My mind so ****** up
Please tell me that im dreamin
Hard to believe in
Gotta speak for myself
Tryna to open up
Like a lock in the safe
No im not okay
My best friend passed away
Its been messin with my brain
Hate to say it but
Im in pain
Can’t take it nomore
It remains
Woke up and wanted to write how i was feeling. Haven’t wrote poetry in a while but i feel confident in this piece right here.
thoughts from february fourteenth;

No one else alone, just me. Hence the word alone.
Only my dreams to send a rose to.

NO, no thank you. Love is not for me.
I'm perfectly fine being with myself.
Saint Audrey Sep 2017

Leaving it silenced, drawn and quartered
Clawing for the scraps left over

Predicament I found myself in
Or, towards the end of it
Slipping from the edges
Forager focused on finding any way back home
Sidetracked by some apparition left crying
Alone, in the corner


Paused, with rain drops weighted, heavy sense in the air
I can feel my lips turning blue and

It's more literal than I would dare dream in a waking nightmare
The smell of every molecule tantamount to another realm

Hangs motionless in the air
The stone transposed becomes a rooftop asylum, overlooking such uncouth misanthropic parcels, self absorbed in this grotesque imagery, a veritable wall of self hate puzzle pieces


Low, on an almost ominous note, still grows colder in my ears
Blowing on winds filled with the spite and righteous
Anti holy
Fully rupturing sound of far off laughter of the
New root

My lips still moving
No sound produced
And my mind

I still pray to god for you
Beset on all sides by the same wickedness
Still afflicted by myself

Argue for arguments sake
****** up on the uptake
I thought that you might want it
I guess I forgot all the subtle ways
The fires spring to life at night

Arguably the wrong choice is
Looking at him
I try not to
Catch that glimpse in his eye
Already my mind races
And my bones are shivering
At the thought alone

Brickwork backing
Still swells maggots
And filing paperwork
For entrapment habits

sara Jun 2018
She smells soft
and fresh like life after rain
but she's bound too tight,
too hard to touch,
and she squirms when you call her name.

She's got that fallen angel face.
Her pieces all fit into place,
have patience, if you wish to wait.
Free spirits float free from leaden weight.
Evan Stephens Jan 28
Slouch the rounds
of doctor
and therapist,
hands on my knees
in waiting room
chairs. My eyes
have trouble
meeting their eyes
and I become
an expert
in rugs and corners,
in traffic patterns.

A new drug comes,
and I take it
like communion,
holy water
from the tap,
wafer in
a blister pack.
It takes a week
to crenelate
the blood, until
the smoking mirror
in my mind
is cleared.
I exorcise
the patterns
of night thought
with bell book
and candle
that come
thirty to a bottle.

Every night
St George and
his red cross flag
wields a lance
of lithium salt
against a
perpetual shadow,
a piece of my brain
that flickers
and hisses
like the dead
channels that lay
between the shows
on my childhood
KCibot Jun 27
JV Beaupre May 2016
"So why are you painting a woman in a bottle?"
The challenge. Handling all those quirky reflections and layers of transparency.

"She has phantom arms and legs, what about that?"
Yes, pretty cool. A Vitruvian woman in a bottle. *

"I'm looking for Meaning: Don't paintings look under the surface?"
You mean, what does it mean, really mean? It's just a way to test my skill.

"But what are you saying with that?"
It's not feminist nor anti, it's just an exercise. Besides, there's a rope.

"But aren't you, as an artist, exposing reality, presenting emotions and feelings, seeing the soul?"
I'm not on a soapbox-- I'm testing my skill-- I paint and don't think about it too much. After all, 'Sometimes a cigar is just a cigar' or is it 'just a smoke'?

"I don't like your message."
OK, I'll paint you in a bottle...
As a shrunken head.
On the other hand, I once painted an agricultural scene based on a photo from the 1930s that I thought carried a social message. Most people wanted to know what kind of tractor it was.
zumee May 2018
"Fuuuuuck!" groaned the Tortoise.
"****!" spat the Hare.

"Son of a *****!" barked the Fox.
"**** on a rooster!" cawed the Crow.

"***** of a bison!" growled the Wolf.
"***** of a llama!" brayed the ***.

"**** on a termite!" squealed the Ant.
"**** of a cricket!" grated the Grasshopper.

cried the animals in unison despair.

"Yeeeees," hoot'd the Owl
with an evil-wicked grin,
"but only the ones with a moral."
Lewis Hyden Nov 2018
About a year ago,
I quit smoking.

My counselor - a
Firm anti-smoker -
Told me, "Well done,"
And as I left

Her office, a thick cloud
Of bus-exhaust billowed
Up to the third story
Window, and seeped within.

"No smoking," the sign said;
"It's bad for your health."
A poem about air pollution.
#19 in the Distant Dystopia anthology.

© Lewis Hyden, 2018
I'm accustomed to dwelling in a mountain mansion estate that has a
commanding panoramic view of verdant ancient forests & crashing
ocean waves. I need a room by 12 November. I'm desperate. I sleep
in a rusty dumpster with 2 negroes behind an abandoned Kmart & I
get 30¢ per pound for Pepsi cans for that I tote in my shopping cart.
Marla Apr 10
If you have something meaningful to say and you say it,
it’s inherent beauty makes you an artist.

                 That means that posting something with substance
without it being a poem makes it a sort of non-poem
that encapsulates the beauty without emphasizing or exaggerating it.

                                  This is ANTI-POETRY.
Carter Ginter Dec 2017
Blood means nothing
Unless it's staining the streets
Family has no merit
When they don't even See me

You want me to be passive?
And let them spew racist hate?
And all that "gendered" *******?
You can't stop me, too late

**** the systems that oppress us
These prisons are stealing lives
Locking up innocent people
It's a form of modern genocide

We are all human
But our brothers are killed by police
And our sisters killed for their gender identity
But you'd rather look the other way
And defend hateful "free speech"

I am aware of my privilege
And I will not stay silent
You turn your eyes away from police brutality
But try to preach anti-violence

Our country is run by the white and the blue
While the red is the blood of its people
We need to look up at reality
And stop focusing on the steeples

Your hopes and your prayers
Do not end the violence
Instead they teach hate
And oppressive silence
Sean Hunt Jan 17
It seems to me
our times have become present perfect for many
For others our times have become tortured
and utterly imperfect

Cambridge Analytica knows
every thing about almost everyone
who is connected addicted infected
by a need to be seen and heard
by imagined minds

Cambridge Analytica
will tell and sell to anyone
who wants to be respected selected

Cambridge Analytica
turned the tide in The British Isles
Their algorithms slithered
through the cyber-slush of Facebook
and found three million voters
who had never ever exercised
their democratic right
Then for gain they sold their names
to the ‘Leave’ campaign

And now those who were already rich but wanted more of it
have their Brexit
SteamPhunk Aug 2018
Perfect lives,
Perfect paradise,
Snap snap snap and the camera is clear,
Flash flash flash and a couple of hashtags then add a filter to hide,
That splinter- the splinter in your mind scratching inside telling you to do this till you die,
Watching me, watch me, love and adore me, likes, views, and comments are all that feed me.
Trying to surpass your perfect life, it’s a ******* circle with a stabbing knife.
You’re missing out on life, you see nothing at all and you call this an adventure.
Once in a lifetime trip with the sun and the sand, you’re sitting with your phone in your hand and all that you're worried about is streaking your fake tan,
This is fakery in the making.
I recently decided to take a break from Instagram for several reasons and this is a piece of poetry produced from that brief hiatus.
I woke up this morning, not ready
My room all messy just like my heart
And I'm always being labelled as "lazy" for not cleaning it

I'm that type of girl that would stay indoors
While my peers are out shopping
I love cooking but the kitchen never loved me
I lock myself in my room and chain my ears down with music
Because its my only venue of escape

I write it to heal my pain
To express my sorrow
Distress and unstrain

I jogg to run away from my problems
And at times I bottle my feelings
I burst in tears
Not because I'm weak
But because
I don't wanna have anyone's neck stuck between my palms

Lastly I don't believe in pure love
Because if then it was true
The world would be a better place to be
Desmond the poet Aug 2018
Those you haven’t victimized fear you.
Mighty and dreadful you seem.
Little do they know, you only seize flesh and control the mind.
You seize not the soul.
Hence be not proud.

You’ve dwelled in me for many years.
Imprisoned me to anti-epileptic drugs.
You’ve dispirited me.
You attack, seize, and control my mind.
Your attacks are but brief.

Epilepsy be not proud.
For I fear not what rescind only flesh.
I fear what abolish both soul and flesh.
Proportional to gravitational force I fell.
I’ve always find the forte to rise.

Epilepsy be not proud.
For against all odds, I’m still alive.
This poem to show that for as much as I've been epileptic for 32 years I'm still alive because Epilepsy has not managed to **** me.
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