Poison ivy or bad coke

Lyon Keating:

Have you ever played that game, ‘would you rather?’  It’s actually a very interesting game to pull out at any time but the times I’ve enjoyed it the most were on long road trips.  The game includes someone coming up with two scenarios and asking people which one they’d rather do.  For example, would you rather walk across a street naked in your neighborhood at noon or run across the field during a baseball game?  Would you rather kiss your brother or kiss your uncle on the lips?  Would you rather jack off a bum or shave your head and super glue the hair into your butt crack and have to deal with that shitting for a whole month?  The game lets the mind wander to almost unimaginable creative heights!

A recent life experience led me to think about this game a lot and that was an outlandish, intense experience with poison ivy all over my legs, thighs, and groin.  I should have probably gone to see a doctor right away and gotten a cortisone shot or whatever but the ivy beast kept coming on so gradually in new spots that it was hard to tell that it wasn’t getting better but actually getting worse.  After I was about a week in I thought, ‘well I’m already a week in and can just buy over the counter remedies that should work.”  The second week was excruciatingly worse and I just kept applying huge amounts of medicine to what seemed like little to no affect.  After the second week I thought, ‘well I’ve already gone two weeks how much longer can this stay as horribly intense?  Am I really going to go to the doctor now and spend hundreds of dollars when I’ve practically made it to the end?’  By the end of the third week the worst had passed but I still couldn’t sleep at night and the itch was still there.  It was definitely getting better but still horribly annoying and now that I am in my fourth week the itch is very minor but my legs have turned into a reptilian site as I am shedding skin and scabs all over the place and notice them frequently on my floor, bed, rugs.  Super gross but my girlfriend still spent time with me the last few days.  It must really be true love.  The test of any relationship; get horrible poison ivy for four weeks and when you start shedding huge scabs casually throughout the house see if your lover cares.  Why am I not a relationship advice expert?!?!?!?

The whole experience, especially the two to three weeks in the middle, has changed my life forever.  They are not kidding when they call poison ivy, poison!  It most truly is and it racked my brain and almost took over my mind completely and made me into a different person.  The itch was excruciating with constant painful tingles like as if ants were marching up my leg and biting anything in site.  You try to move but the couch you’re sitting on and the clothes you’re wearing rub up against your rashes and feel good for but one second but then make it ten times worse but you yearn for that one second of relief so you shake your legs over and over again so that the rash can rub up against something.  You need to resort to your absolute inner stubborn will to make yourself stop this vicious cycle and what you’re left with is absolute irritability and redness and itch.  You get up to walk it off but you can’t walk out of your own skin and pacing ensues.  There is nothing you can do, no where you can go, and it follows you everywhere and makes you insane.  Over the counter drugs only minorly help.  The only thing that really helps is sitting around in your underwear or less with none of your hot spots touching anything and just trying to breath.  Don’t let the poison win, don’t let it touch anything.  It yearns to be touched but that’s what it wants.  Don’t touch it.  Ahhhh, it itches.  Take a shot of whisky?  Take two.  Run my self to exhaustion to get the feeling to go away.  Fuck fuck fuck!

Being out in public I felt like a completely different person.  The itch was always there.  I couldn’t have a focused conversation with anyone.  I couldn’t stop shaking my leg to give myself that short term (yet long term more pain) relief.  There was a chip on my shoulder.  I was sweating.  No one could possibly know what’s going on with me right now.  Keep your composure.  How can I listen to anybody.  What the fuck!  Stop talking to me.  I don’t give a shit.  What did they ask me?  When will this stop.  How can I do anything.  I just want to be constantly taking a cold shower.

I am a changed man after relishing in the fact that now I can think straight.  How must life be like for people who have similar poisons in their mind or bodies that don’t let them think how they want to?  How does one care about anything except the buzzing around of the pain and the trying to make it stop?  The whole process felt like an addiction and if this is what addiction is like then all my respects out to people who have to deal with these demons in their life.

Speaking of addictions, the only thing I can remotely compare it to are bad drugs.  And by drugs, I don’t mean marijuana damnit!  Bad marijuana just doesn’t get you high and gives you a headache.  So drugs harder than marijuana and caffeine.  Yes, drugs are bad and all that jazz but they also can be really fun and enlightening and new perspective shaping.  You can also OD, take bad drugs, end up eating somebody’s face off (that guy in the recent news who snorted bath salts or something of the sort), among many other horrible things.  For example, bad coke.  It creates anxiety and stress, it makes you sweat, it makes you itch, it makes you talk constantly about things you’re paranoid about, it gives you a headache, it allows you to drink way more alcohol, despite all this you yearn for more.  You do nervous twitches with your body and then all of a sudden you look down at your hands and realize those nervous twitches are your fingers rubbing up against each other and they have created an on the verge, bloody sore.  Ewww gross, how did this happen.  Okay I’ll do some more.  Why did I do more?  It’s because you don’t know what good drugs are like.  Good drugs don’t make you feel like you have poison ivy.  Itch itch itch, why can’t I stop thinking about my ex.  I wonder who she’s fucking.  Is that person looking at me.  Are they judging me for doing drugs.  Well fuck them, I’ll punch their face in!  Oww, the base of my thumb is bleeding.  Get over it.  Man I can feel my heart beat and I have huge pit stains.  Get me a drink!

So the question I ask to you is would you rather have a bad breakout of poison ivy or would you rather take a whole bunch of bad coke?  Hmmm, that’s a tough one but I think I’ll take the bad drugs.  Those only last a night and only make me strung out and crack head like and distracted and bitter with a chip on my shoulder and aggressive and hyper active with sores on my fingers for a short time period.  Poison Ivy makes you feel that way for weeks on end.  Not to mention the blisters and pussing that make your clothes wet and people around you think you have leprosy.  They’ve probably never had it so they just think you’re not having a bad day but are just a dick.  Poison Ivy is the champagne of poisons.  The Osama Bin Laden of ivy.  I would never rather have a bad case of poison ivy or anything.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s




%d bloggers like this: