Crazy

Drugs feel like sex for the lonely. Pain is just a dopamine blast for the insane, but there are no requirements to be 'crazy' anymore. Although it's dated, there were guidelines for mental disorders. Hell, being homosexual got you a part in sociopathy. There's no definitive problem with the likes of my people. We are stricken with disorder and chaos and we do our best to fight through it, to mold shapes out of sand. We stand up when everything in our bodies tell us to sit.

Pain is an addictive chemical that those of us who had the pleasure of being born in a first world country are made to deal with and anyone who tries to debate the fact is struggling with an addiction they don't accept. Forgive the third person narrative, but it is not gender specific. It's doing drugs, it's having sex and it's working out. The burn of stretched muscles, the prick of a new needle and the penetration of a wonderful, nubile body. It's all centered in the same thing, our self centered cravings for pleasure and the selfish torment of not realizing those goals.

In that case, what can a legion of human beings do, juggling our selfishness with our own depression based on our limitations and shortcomings involving the people we love. I feel like a fool, learning all of this over again, but the fact of the matter remains the same: don't be afraid to be happy.