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I’m not doin too well

 

I’m not doin too well

 

I’m not doin too well

That’s all I’ve got

I’ve added 3 pant sizes

Since my wife’s brain disease

& her different after surgery

Our break up

I drink too much

But the drinking’s not the cause

I have a chemical imbalance

A rollercoaster around poles

I’d started to do better in the country

But I couldn’t afford the housing

So back to the throng of the city

There’s lots to do

But it’s hard to be

The concrete & steel

Anyway just an exercise

I’ve written about this many times

& today it’s not coming out so well

I’m hungover as always

But I have no hope of quitting

Coz my chemical imbalance is severe

My Shrink once said schizophrenic

But backtracked & said it’s not quite that

There pressure to be normal in the city

There’s huge pressure to be together

& for all the lipservice about mental health awareness

It’s all a lot of bullshit

“Are you ok?” is a closed question for a start

People hurry you along

I remember being taught

When I was becoming a teacher

About ‘wait-time’

When you ask kids a question

Some won’t immediately answer

So you give em a minute

Before moving on

Because let’s face it

We do we know about shit?

& yet people answer in this world

Like they’re playing a video game

Immediately with a preprepared or preprogramed response

We rush one another

Like it’s combat

Can’t we fuckin slow down

Because the truth ain’t simple

It mightn’t even exist

But it’s helpful when you’re suffering

To have people to listen

& so we have to book mental health professionals

If you can afford it

Coz no one will help out

I miss Max Sometimes

I miss my French friend Oliver

The reason I say French friend

Is coz I have two friends named Oliver

I’m a bit tired of high sounding rhetoric

& the appearance of certainty & esteemed & qualifications

I don’t know shit man

I just know I feel like I wanna cry a lot

& yet when I go out I’m expected to entertain

Or maybe the entertainer kicks in

Coz everyone’s on the make

Speeding up, heating up the planet

The horror of Capitalism is that’s it’s kind of necessary

Anyway, the planet suffers

& so do we people

Coz we spend our lives

Never knowing who we are

Or being able to sit still

Of course Pharmaceuticals have pills

But pills don’t work

Without human contact

We are the best healers to one another

It sickens me

This society

That is so phoney

That we can’t do mental health peer support

Without it becoming a 12 step plan

Through some sponsored organisation

There is no cure for my mental illness

It’s question of just copping it sweet

Anyway, enough whinging

I speak because it eases my suffering

& hopefully it eases some listeners’ suffering

When hear about people suiciding

& “everybody was surprised”

It sickens me

What were their friends doing?

Wearing masks, talking about the footy,

Crackin jokes about losers,

Mate when someone suicides

The blood is on all our hands

For not being real

For not being an ear

So fuck you with your astonishment

Fuck you with your surprise

You’re a superficial cunt

& you’re house is built of lies

 

 

Published & Copyright Malachi Doyle 2025.

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