Sometimes I have panic attacks in the supermarket because I can't find real, true food to feed my family with,
It's all just sell, sell, sell and E numbers and additives.
And extra salt and extra sugar and pass the doughnuts please, darling,
flick, flick, flick through the food adverts to the next TV reality Prince Charming.
And then I think how shallow it is when I am surrounded by choice, to be panicking,
This sweat and fear and needing to leave is not damaging,
It's just option paralysis, a rich Western neurosis; we are paying the price,
Instead of having nothing to eat we deliberate over a hundred different brands of rice.
Part of the problem is our constant reliance on big pharma prescription chemicals,
Being told that it's good to numb your feelings makes me polemical,
This laughable contemporary plague is a self-perpetuating myth of us,
Chasing our own tail like a crazy dog, like Oroborus.
But we're so numb now there aren't even 'best bits', our 'TV highlights',
We've got no creativity, no elation, we're lacking insight.
We're creaking wearily toward a mono-future of calm self-destruction,
Controlled by the companies that feed us our feeling interruption.
(This isn't finished yet. Or even a little bit sorted but I'm posting it anyhow. I've got a lot else to write in it about anti-depressants and society).
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