Today is yesterday

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Today is yesterday

The world is always moving

At quite a remarkably frantic pace

Towards a social utopia

And it all seems on a rosy path

Destined for absolute coexistence

Where all human rights are respected

And all freedoms upheld

Yet with every passing day

Turning into a yesterday

In a perfectly axiomatic Style

Our society is getting more consistent

At creating new problems

With every over zealous effort

To solve the old ones

It’s like a pathetic attempt at victim role-reversal

For the hunter to become the hunted

For a white to wish they were black

And for a man to wish they were female

I think emancipation of any kind

Should be a mindful type

With no over incentivizing the target group

And hence leaving a feeling of “the forgotten”

Among the rest of the population

Because if this role-reversal were to take place

As it seemingly is

Then today is yesterday

Just dressed in different apparel

But belonging to a so called privileged grouping

Should not be reason for one to feel guilty

Or even become a victim

Of the several waves of emancipation

Coz the strategy should be to balance

And not to unbalance

Here’s to a fair share

Of human rights and social justice

PsyPauet

Featured

Addiction Cancer

Addiction cancer

Cancer is that one dreaded illness that not only kills an individual’s dreams
But also the individual if not detected and treated early

It gets the body cells to cause mayhem to the very body they belong
Until it expires and they die aging with it

I talk of addiction cancer!
Dressed to kill with those scrumptious but empty killer looks
That silent yet loud but welcomed unwelcome dream killer
Because we consciously feed it
And give her our best effort to live to its exorbitant standards
While it sucks us dry to the bone
And chokes the life out of our resources
Some directly like money
And for others like the fixed assets, indirectly

It starts as a hobby
A pass time or an experiment
Until it graduates to a level
Where we always crave that “one last” attempt at absolute satisfaction
Just that next round of excitement
Which always come at an extra cost
Most often that not, a financial one

For a gambler, they live in the hope that perhaps the extra last round
Shall help compensate for their prior losses
Or that maybe they should win just that one more time and call it a day
Regardless, they’ll stay for the entirety of their pockets’ worth
Playing that extra round for just one last time

For a drunkard, they hope that the next bottle shall get them to that desired high
Yet after which
They still seek the one extra bottle to get them to the same pernicious destination

This theory can be extrapolated to the drug addict, sex addict, and almost all the other kinds of addicts
The prospect of the next round giving greater satisfaction lingers
With that malevolent charming smile
That has let a myriad of others before, down the drain

This often prompts a kind of ravenous appetite that only more service can quench
And this could mean more need for more resources like money
Impropriety ensues with the onset of borrowing or even stealing as the hole begins to get deeper
So deep that climbing out would require a really almighty effort as a bigger number are never able to recover

This could mean coming out of this major hiccup forever damaged
Finding formally very achievable dreams a little further away and less achievable Individuals may visit the self blame corner
It could escalate to self hate then self harm
Then finally, even the nonprofessional could blatantly and most rightly so diagnose mental depression to add figures to the financial depression

If one is not lucky to receive adequate support,
They risk getting worse mental illness to the point of schizophrenia or even suicide.

Addiction cancer is because we feed it ourselves
PsyPauet

Gender twisted

We were both on a Tuesday

To a Mr and Mrs Brady

I a small town called “Screwedbury”

A fate of twins so twisted

For Lucky was born a female

And I was born a male

Not our fates were defined at birth

Lucky for the protected gender

And I for a gender endangered

With strength overemphasized

And weakness overly criticized

I was randomly assigned for a rollercoaster ride

It got evident when I cried

That I was not at Liberty

To express my genuine emotions

Lest I betrayed my masculinity

That I so “willfully” chose from the Genesis

Here’s to my brother in the struggle

A struggle seemingly justified

That boys will be boys

And that men should always turn up

Lest be reminded to man up

To man up and self medicate

The wounds that some call cowardly

From the prospect of loneliness

To feelings of helplessness

Anxiety from the guilt

Of not lining up to the billing

Of the reality of a “real” man

That ought to be self contained

Self contained to simply handle

The simple not so simple dilemmas

Of smiling while grieving

Of standing when utterly broken

Of turning the other cheek to the abusive partner

And of rather suicide than seek psychosocial support

I loved the idea of the alpha male

But Lucky was taught otherwise

That all men are equal

And that men did not only mean men

But that men is everybody

Then I wondered why the hustle

To be raised different to be equal

For military training to be civilian

I wondered the difference in gender

If it always spelt inequality

That protecting one should break the other

I wondered if I could make a difference

For a tolerance to a male’s weakness

For it to be ok for him to not be ok

For IPV against men to be a thing

For males to see fit Counselling

And for male programs to get a listen

I probably am another random voice

But all genders deserve specialized attention

PsyPauet

The forgotten priority

I am a necessary good

But necessary evil gets more attention

My significance cannot be over emphasized

Yet still I choke from no attention

Regardless, I determine your wellbeing

Yet you ignore my wellbeing

I’m all the strength you got

But yet you are so reluctant to replenish

The very source of your survival

You pamper the hardware

But yet tire the software-ME

I am the voice in the desert

Desperately seeking that rich droplet of water

I am the heart but with a condition

And I think it’s a matter of urgency

Lest the pulse ceases to beat

And then the gorgeously built outer shell

Could be rendered useless, accursed of even lifeless

I am your health but not the usual

Coz I am but the sibling

Now my brother is more convincing

But I can also be interesting

Given we baked from the same clay

Like my brother,I too thrive on attention

And you’ll hate to face the tantrum

Coz it might leave you non living

I’m not simply seeking attention

But certainly hoping for real action

To treat mental health as that-Health

And listing it as a main course

And not just a mere dessert

PsyPauet