Dear Lithium Carbonate,
Is it ok if I just call you Lith?
Hey, I just met you,
And this is crazy,
But we’ve had oral sex,
So fix me, maybe?
It’s weird man. There you are in your unbranded little container, trusty old Lithium. The best international results, said my psychiatrist; too often used as a last resort, said Kay Redfield Jamison; I’m so ugly / but that’s ok cause so are you, sang Kurt Cobain. And you’re not even big pharma.
I wish I already knew if you and I are gonna work out. I want us to, I like your style, but who knows. Well, perhaps you do.
I’m fucking desperate. I think. Why can’t I think properly tonight?
Elizabeth Wurtzel made me laugh; she says you’re useless for crushing and snorting and that you wouldn’t be worth abusing anyway. I googled it and found this:
Dramatic world view eh … well damn Eve goddamn Marie for being horribly accurate with that phrase. Gimme those grey evenings, Lith, I love grey. Grey is completely underrated. Let’s do grey – as many shades of it as you like.
I’m gonna stop obsessing about your effects every single hour of the day. Ahem. I’m gonna try to obsess a little less.
Do your thing – if it works, it works. If not, let’s make it an amicable break.
Give me ten years, I’ll trade you my kidneys (I’ll throw in a decent steak too).
I am so fucking tired.