Under Pressure. Pushing down on me, pushing down on you.
Before reading, please click on the following link and enjoy Bowie at his “Thin White Duke” best, with Freddy Mercury and Queen. It’s
recommended mandatory listening for rock 101. You can, of course, read this while listening – just press play on the opened YouTube video (it’s safe, I promise! Checked it with Norton and Kaspersky) and come on back. Your speakers will still play the music from the other tab while you’re back on this one reading my musings)
Pressure. It’s rather stressful, and it’s hard on the heart and soul. It can make you feel like you have a ton of yellow bricks on your chest, waiting to be made into a road.
(*hint; it’s a yellow brick road!)
Pressure. It causes stress. Stress kills. So, If I remember my 8th grade math properly, then pressure kills (and stress pressures?)
Insanity Laughs Under Pressure, We’re Cracking
Stress is the number one killer of adult males and the number two killer of adult females in North America. Well, for married, working and/or those having children. Does that mean that the average middle-aged loser, living in his mother’s basement and playing Microsoft’s X-Box games all day and night is going to live longer than the average hard working stiff? Afraid so. Universal health care. Welcome to Canada!
Stress is now the leading cause for disability claims in Canada, and second in the United States, Great Britain and most of Europe.
It’s the terror of knowing What the world is about.
Death. That’s right, death. It’s what scares the bejeezus out of people now that more than half of the “intelligent” population (those with IQs over 100, to play sparingly fair) no longer believes in life after death, they start to think “Is it worth it? After all, I’m just waiting to die. Every day is just one day closer to death!”.
Yeah, it’s rather scary, huh? Well, guess what? Everyone’s doing it. It’s sort of like;
3) cold beer
You know you gotta pay.
If you’ve never done it, hey, you never know! It may just be great!
Tastes great, but it’s just a rental.
Watching some good friends Screaming ‘Let me out’
Watching a good friend or loved one lose their soul to drugs is nothing short of pure devastation. It’s not as bad as watching a loved one waste away from a disease like ALS, cancer or any other incurable, body and/or mind killing disease, but it’s comparable insofar as the needle and the damage done. It’s the beginning of an end, an end we all must face (even Kim Jung lL!). Does it really matter how they get there? Loss is still loss, no matter who or why or how.
Pray tomorrow – gets me higher
And, here we are, back at drugs again. Or, to be more specific, chasing the dragon. That’s where people keep trying to mimic that first euphoric rush that they experience the very first time that they try a hard drug like cocaine, heroin, opium, LSD, magic mushrooms, methamphetamine (never tried that one!) and marijuana (well, to be fair, not much going there for euphoria, and it’s the only drug that does give the user that same buzz as the first time). And then there’s pharmaceutical drugs. In the days of rock and roll, teenagers and those in their mid-20’s smoked pot and hashish, danced naked under the moon and made love under the sun. Now, in the days of hip hop and murdah rap, we see the same age group bringing their parent’s medications to parties, throwing them in big bowls and taking a handful of the mixture. Jim Morrison would be proud! (uhm, in case you don’t know your rock and roll history children, that’s really not a good thing).
Why do people turn to drugs? Is there a root causality from societal pressures to be better than what they can attain? Forced into manual labor, Maunuel Labohr worked the corn fields by day. At night he became Missy Manuel, heroin heroine heroically harvesting human misery and self loathing by gravelly whispering “Si,S enior, I is a senior!”
Keep coming up with love, but it’s so slashed and torn
Love. Lost loves. Loves lost. Love’s lost. Love’s last lust. There’s just no getting around that losing your loved one hurts. Every poetic lyricist from the era of great rock and roll anthemic ballads has had a singer wail about love and the hurt that losing it costs and causes. Jim Morrison? Guilty. Elvis? Yup. No! Yes, sorry about that. Bowie? Done it. Neil Young? Lots of ’em (think “Needle and the Damage Done”, “Old Man”).
Whether to malaise, malfeasance, mayhem or medication, when you lose that special someone who loved you so sincerely and deeply that they cried when you hurt, it hurts. Those types of loves are a once in a lifetime lottery win.
To many the only escape is through medication. Be that from booze, blues (the brain-splattering pills, not the music nor the erectile problem fixing type) or boos (self loathing and pity), the escape is always temporary; it only lasts until you next awaken, darker than the day before, the light of another day blinding you with it’s malfeasance.
Pressure on people – people on streets
Do de do. Do de de do. De de de do. Do de do do, de de de do. Oh, just listen to the song already!
Pressure is a killer. If you are under a mountain of stress, STOP IT! If you’re feeling sorry for yourself, STOP IT! If you feel like life just isn’t worth living, STOP IT!
Do you have someone that you dearly love who is addicted to hard drugs? Do you blame yourself for their continued addiction, or their eventual and probable premature death? Well, smoke a joint. Relax. Watch a Marx Brothers movie. And, most of all, forgive yourself. You didn’t kill them, they did that when they made their choices. Even if you offered them their first hit, as long as you didn’t provide them with their method of destruction, then it’s not your fault (well, maybe a little in this case), they would have found a way.
Nine out of ten people who live on the streets (and that includes all you who live in tents in remote BC forests growing BC Big Bud and BC Chronic) are addicted to at least two hard drugs. Well, that’s if you include alcohol as one of the hard drugs.