#how are we as a society supposed to recover when TAYLOR SWIFT puts out a flop | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

tomoonine · 4 years

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[scenario] nude model!jaehyun & artist!reader

Short story: Jaehyun as a nude model for Y/N's art class, with lots of fluff?? Maybe you can also add a scene where Y/N wants to paint on Jae's back :D Up to you whether you want them in a relationship or not

☽. this society wants pining so they are not in a relationship (yet) (★ ω ★) also, heads up for profanity ahead and i kind of went overboard with this, more than i expected at least. if you enjoyed reading this, please check out more in my masterlist! requested: yes; anon word count: 1.9k words

You curse yourself for deciding to schedule this so early in the morning. You’re not ready, no not at all. The drowsiness is one thing, but there’s something certainly more pressing that’s making you feel nervous.

You aren’t even supposed to be this nervous. You’re an art major for crying out loud, you should have nothing to worry about especially since you’ve been doing all sorts of ridiculous things for assignments almost every week. Besides, you have all of your tools and paraphernalia ready in front of you. You were able to restock on some paints before they got sold out, so you’re definitely prepared. And the last time you checked the calendar, even if you mess up today, you have extra days to cram everything again. So this should be no problem at all. Not at all.

But when Jaehyun is right in front of you, sitting at the base of your bed, dressed in a bath robe and jeans... You might lose your shit. In fact, you’re in the brink of backing out because you can practically hear your own heart ringing in your ears. If you look at your palms real carefully, you can tell that your quivering hands will make it hard to paint on his back later. However, with a face as handsome as his, you have some sort of assurance that if your painting goes awry, at least his breathtaking face will be able to make up for it and consequently pull up your grades.

Just as you were about to completely take back your request for Jaehyun to be the subject of your art project, he breaks your train of thought with a long yawn. It successfully snaps you out of your trance, and you turn your head to catch a glimpse of him. Basking the morning light that peeks from your window, Jaehyun looks unbelievably ethereal. His hair is kind of tousled and his eyes are still squinting from being awake at such an ungodly hour.

It’s an endearing sight, and it makes your heart leap a bit knowing how much effort he’s putting to be your muse for today. You doubt he’d do this for just about anyone considering that he’s a sought-out piece of ethereal beauty from the Management department. Still, it’s a far-fetched idea to think that he’d be doing so much just for you. You’ve done a lot of favors for Jaehyun so it’s rightful for him to be here when you need him. You’re friends after all.

“And friends help each other out...” You sigh to yourself, picking up the palette and paint tubes from the table top with one hand. Adjacent to those things, you grab the paintbrushes with your free hand and approach the man. He suddenly sits up alert at the sound of your footsteps, and Jaehyun is quick to grab his phone. “You need music, (Y/N)?”

“Yes, please.” You laugh, settling beside him and carefully putting down your things on the bed. “Do you have anything appropriate to play before I fuck up your entire back?”

“Nonsense.” Jaehyun rolls his eyes, unlocking his phone and scrolling away. “You’re good at painting. I’m just going to sit down here and let your magic hands do the work. And by the time you’re done, there’s going to be a beautiful something on my back and it will give you the best grade in the entire Art Department.”

“Your face is the one that’s going to save me from failing this project.” You scowl at him, and all he does is pinch your nose to get rid of the disdain on your face. Jaehyun grins at you, even after you smack his hand away from your face. “Your art will make me more beautiful than I already am. Now what was I supposed to do again?”

“Oh, right.” You mumble, fishing out for the make-up kit he handed to you a while ago. “To save time, I was hoping you could apply some of your base make-up while I work on your back. I’m going for something nature inspired, so if you can, I’d like it to be as natural as possible.”

“Gotcha.” He nods, taking the pouch off your hands to grab the foundation. “Anything else?”

“Music. Good music. One that fits the vibe and isn’t something by Taylor Swift.”

Jaehyun gasps and gives you a dirty look. “What’s wrong with Folklore?”

“Her music is good, but can’t we listen to something else?” You groan, as you ready the paint tubes. “I don’t want to be sad. Don’t you have anything chill that won’t make any of us come out of this room in tears?”

“Fine. How about... Zion.T?”

“Now you’re talking!” You quip, twisting the cap of the last paint tube close. You pick up the palette and the biggest paintbrush in your collection. “Ready, Valentine Boy?” You tease him, and Jaehyun scoffs in reply. He avoids your eyes as he fiddles with the strings strapped across his body. “This is really weird. Taking this off in front of you.”

“Why would it be? We’ve gone swimming already, as children and as college students.”

“You know this is different...”

Your eyes don’t move away from Jaehyun’s figure, although his head is still turned away from you. You notice that he started bouncing his leg anxiously, so you shift around the bed to turn away. “I’ll look away. Just tell me when you’re ready.” Jaehyun doesn’t reply, but by the sound of the bed creaking every few times you can tell that he started to take off the robe. The silence while you’re turned away feels unbearable, because now your heart is beating even stronger than earlier. It beats in time with the music that leaves Jaehyun’s phone, and the birds outside your window sound as if they’re singing along. You shut your eyes, taking in everything you hear to at least calm yourself down from what is to come.

“You can turn around now.” His voice sounds so pleasingly mellow despite the hoarseness from waking up this early. The sound just goes straight down to the pit of your stomach and you try to fight off the goosebumps crawling on your skin. When you finally turn around to face Jaehyun, you’re greeted by his broad back. It’s such a beautiful view, such a serene atmosphere when the music flows just in time with the moment you faced him. The sun is shining on his skin, making him look like he’s glowing under the morning light. Jaehyun has his head hanging low, his hands busy digging through the make-up pouch. As he searches, his back muscles constantly flex and relax, gracing you with a harmonious tandem of lines appearing and disappearing across the expanse of his back.

It irritates you that you have to mask it all in layers of paint. It irritates that he’s so effortlessly beautiful that you honestly don’t even need to paint him to make him look handsome. Despite all these, you can’t deny that you’re feeling privileged to be the one to be touching him so... intimately. It’s unbelievable, but as you mentioned, you’ve done a lot of favors for Jaehyun so it’s rightful for him to be here when you need him. You’re friends after all.

But do friends go this far to help each other out?

You desperately shake the thought away, remembering that if you keep on staring at him you’re going to be missing the most opportune time to take pictures in the garden. Carefully, you pick up your paintbrush and dip it in the paint. “I’ll start painting now, Jae.” You mumble, and slowly, your fingers bring the brush just below his shoulder blade. At the first stroke, Jaehyun shudders at the contact. But he recovers quickly, and he does as he’s told. Both of you work in silence after that, with you painting his back diligently and with Jaehyun applying base make-up on his face.

Sometimes he’d ask questions out of curiosity, and you’d answer him to the best of your abilities. While you carefully applied the details on his back, you would explain the concept of this project. Then after that, you’d talk about how annoying your professor was and Jaehyun would try to supress a chuckle so that he wouldn’t ruin your work. It doesn’t even occur to you that you were practically done with his entire backside since you’ve been talking to him all this time. You lean back to admire the vines and leaves that decorate his back, a smile finding its way to your lips.

“Are you ready for me to work on your face?” You ask as you crane your neck and back around to release the tension that accumulated around the joints. Jaehyun lets out a grunt in response, and he quickly turns around to face you. It’s even harder to keep a steady face when he’s looking at you eye-to-eye, but you have to be professional about this. Even Jaehyun can’t seem to keep his eyes on you, because as you reach out to brush his hair away from his eye, you see him chew on his lip and divert his eyes toward the closest window.

“What do you plan on doing?” Jaehyun whispers, just as you move closer to inspect his face. “Nothing too... extravagant.” You mumble back, reaching out for your paintbrush again. “I’ll paint only one side of your face up to the ear so it’s easier to wash off.” Both of you look at each other briefly, and looking at him up close like this feels so... oddly relaxing. But you snap out of your trance immediately, turning your head away from his gaze to check the side of his face. “How much make-up did you put?” You ask instead, gently reaching out for his chin to move his head around. “I actually like how you did the ears, didn’t expect you to put some tint on your ears but it fits the nature concept really well...”

“Oh.” He gulps. “I... I didn’t do anything with my ears. This is just...”

“Oh.”

You sit in silence, trying to find some way to remedy the awkwardness exuding around. Even if you try to look at Jaehyun, he won’t even look at you back. His ears have turned to a darker shade of red and his cheeks are starting to tint up. And if you try to look anywhere else, your eyes end up trailing low without even thinking. Your nails dig into the wood of your paintbrush, and you chew your lip in contemplation. Jaehyun, this time, takes initiative to break the silence by calling out your name. “(Y/N).” He says. “I’m ready.”

You nod wordlessly, finally reaching for your palette to begin painting again. At this point, you honestly thought you were going to be more confident in yourself. But as soon as the back of your hand brushes against his cheek, you accidentally let a squeak. Jaehyun cracks a smile and chuckles at you, and this time, the redness starts to paint across your cheeks and ears.

Both of you look like a reflection of each other, just as your heartbeats beat in tandem under the morning light. It all feels raw, it feels so genuine, and nothing can mask the bubble that threatens to burst when you see Jaehyun like this. Seeing him like this, so intimate, so domestic, you’d give anything to see this everyday. Not just as a friend, but as something more than that; and it’s a scenario you can clearly paint in your mind.

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taylorftparamore · 7 years

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I'm not sure if you're interested but have you read this about Selena/her health burnthroughmyskin*tumblr*com/post/165337919738/okay-i-cant-believe-im-going-to-actually-do-this it does seem like people are forgetting about the "chronic" part of her illness

link

i want to warn before anyone responds that skimming this will be quite evident if you attempt to argue before reading as i will attempt to cover as much as i can. this will lean very “pop feminism”, however there are brushes of other types of feminism mentioned.

the thesis statement: how we view female pop stars and their recovery is a direct reflection of our society and we all have an inherent bias against women in their own narratives.

In order to best understand why people view Selena Gomez’s treatment as a “she’s healthy now and will never be sick again”, one must first examine the fear behind why one wants recovery to be as simple as “she got a new kidney, now she’ll never be sick again”. It’s the inherent fear of being sick. This is an overlap where physically disabled people, chronically ill people, addicts, and mentally ill people receive most of their discrimination. It strongly ties into the fear of growing older.

Even men get hit with it, though we are going to disregard the male experience entirely in this thesis as I have little experience with being male for obvious reasons. This will solely focus on the woman’s narrative and how it ties into other isms in our society.

With women, they are expected to be pretty, look youthful, and be healthy for as long as they possibly can. When someone at twenty-five has a chronic illness, this upsets the balance of what women are expected to be. A woman with chronic illness is expected to hide it away in shame. With the rise of social media, this is no longer something celebrities can do. A celebrity in the 1950s would be able to quietly disappear for six months then return as if nothing had happened.

Shirley Temple, the first example (and yr example) of a child starlet did not have the same circus surrounding her as she grew up. Before 2005, the only examples of stalking out a young starlet was limited to those who could afford the cameras to do so. What happened in 2005? Camera phones became easier to acquire, MySpace begin to rise in popularity, and thus our ability to stalk out celebrities became far easier too. While there’s issues regarding celebrity life before 2005, the focus is post 2005 and how it interacts with the need for a narrative.

Narrative wise, “was sick then got better” is a nicer summary than “was sick, then was fine for a bit, then was sick again, and will now need treatment until the day they died”. People don’t like it. They don’t like that Halsey’s cauterization of her womb to treat PCOS is only a treatment that might fail her. They don’t want to think about how Demi Lovato’s stint in rehab and therapy are only treatments for her addiction and bipolar disorder. They don’t want to think about how their treatment of these delicately imbalanced women can worsen their symptoms later.

Which is the crux on which this entire theory is built: people don’t want to be held responsible for their actions. They don’t want to think of Selena Gomez as being delicate in regards to her feelings towards growing up in the spotlight (in which she described being photographed on a beach at fifteen by grown men “violating”), they don’t want to think about the long term effects mocking Taylor Swift for her surprised face when she was only seventeen carrying into adulthood, they don’t want to think about how Demi Lovato hitting a dancer could have been caused by the speculation of her mental health, and they don’t want to think about how Britney Spears’s public breakdown could be their fault.

No one wants to be the bully and they want to victimize other people so they can then accuse of “playing the victim”. Playing the victim as a phrase was originally coined in reference to abusers manipulating sociological effects to appear to be innocent while utterly demonizing the victim. Oddly, the mob mentality bullying of these starlets work more of “playing the victim” than any female starlet. They are restlessly bullied then accused of being “too sensitive” the minute they cry out. They are forced into a reaction of smile and laugh politely at jokes about their mental and physical health.

So, let’s think back to 2007 - the invention of the iPhone and the rise of Twitter and the birth of Tumblr. Suddenly, social media and cameras were novelties… that allowed us to watch in real time Britney Spears shaving her head and beating Kevin Fenderline’s car with an umbrella. No longer did we have to wait for the page 6 news spread of it in US Weekly or People - we got to see it happen while it was happening. This is our first example of a public breakdown actually being public. Suddenly everyone had an opinion.

Britney Spears was crucified as a warning - step out of line, and we’ll tear you apart too. Her career was dead the very next day. While Blackout managed to regain some of her popularity back, Britney will never again reach the same heights she had pre 2007 break down. This is mostly good for her mental health, however. The 2005 darlings - Britney Spears, Lindsay Lohan, Raven Simone, and Amanda Bynes - all now had black marks against them with social media and narrative writing all contributing to their fall.

Lindsay Lohan’s recovery is ignored, Amanda Bynes’s mental health issues ignored, and Raven Simone was left to fade into obscurity with only the occasional reminder she is still working in television. This set a precedent.

While Taylor Swift, Demi Lovato, Lady Gaga, and Selena Gomez all rose at roughly the same time, there is a strict timeline to adhere to here. Taylor Swift began her career in 2005, but only started to gain traction in 2007 - the same as the rest of her contemporaries. It is with this marker that we recognize that Britney Spears’s public melt down served as a warning to these darlings - you are not human.

Thus when Demi Lovato’s breakdown started happening in 2009, she was instantly hospitalized with the excuse of “exhaustion”. Selena Gomez would later use this excuse to hide her first diagnosis with lupus. “Exhaustion” was now something none of these starlets could use because now the narrative had already taken shape: exhaustion means drug addiction. Nevermind that dancing for two hours every day and singing for two hours every day is physically exhausting for even the most abled of bodied people.

In 2011, Demi Lovato’s image was given a make over with the release of “Skyscraper” - a double edged sword. She was presented to the public as if she’d fully recovered. However, bipolar and addiction are chronic illnesses. Yet the narrative stuck - she was recovered. Now it traps her - she’s unable to backslide in public. Which means that all of Demi’s backslides must occur within conveniently timed slots which is not how backsliding works.

You might be asking “wait you mentioned Taylor Swift and Lady Gaga… I get how Halsey and Demi Lovato relate to the subject matter, but how does this tie together?” The answer is already there for you: narrative. Taylor Swift’s career path is that of a woman in total control of her narrative. This actually did not occur until 2010, in which she released Speak Now on the promotion that then 17/18 year old Swift wrote and produced the entire album by herself.

Lady Gaga, conversely, owns her narrative in total control of her sexuality. These are two things that women are not supposed to do and thus they are demonized for this. The demonization of Taylor Swift occurred during 2011/2012 - the same as Demi Lovato’s narrative of being a phoenix who rises from the ashes, the same as when Selena Gomez was first hospitalized for lupus (then described as malnutrition and exhaustion - symptoms of lupus), then same as Lady Gaga’s release of Born This Way.

Narratives are important in this new social media game, in which you want to package your starlet in a way that can be easily ate up in soundbites. Lady Gaga was “born this way”, Demi Lovato was a “phoenix”… Taylor Swift is a slut and Selena Gomez is the future trainwreck. The narratives once given are incredibly difficult to break free of. It didn’t help that Demi disparaged Selena for not visiting her in the hospital and that in 2012, Taylor Swift began to date boy band favorite with the hair extraordinaire, Harry Styles. They were now outcasts.

1989 in 2014 helped take back narrative control for Taylor Swift - until it didn’t. The same way Taylor Swift put her career back on track was the same reason it fell off again. Because Taylor Swift puts so much emphasis on controlling her own narrative, she is the most prone to receiving backlash out of all the starlets. People do not like narratives being in control of the people they wish to write them about. Selena Gomez, conversely, now has come forward and publicly admitted to having lupus. Lady Gaga’s new album is “too weird” and thus the subject of derision. The same narrative that put Halsey on the map is now used against her.

So what is the truth of it? Narrative speaking wise… women aren’t allowed to have messy, ugly, complicated narratives.

22 year old Taylor Swift who came on the scene as a pretty, hopeless romantic must have something wrong with her if she hasn’t settled down already (never mind that relationships are naturally complicated and messy and often times both partners have some fault) and is now dating an 18 year old.

Selena Gomez must be heading for a breakdown if she is checking into hospitals for exhaustion and suddenly working “less”.

Lady Gaga should be “over” her weird phase after experimenting with Born This Way.

Demi Lovato must never be allowed any freedom to backslide. Halsey must never, ever show any complaints of PCOS symptoms ever again.

The worst part is that these narratives are often written over the course of two years. It is why new female artists often have difficultly breaking past that first hit. The demand that a female celebrity gives us something to root for often outweighs the music itself. It’s why post The Voice, Cassadee Pope is finding it difficult to receive mainstream success. It is why Britney Spears’s level of fame will remain plateaued at the current level. It is why instead of viewing Lemonade for what it was (a celebration of being a black woman), there was an instant need to pry right into Beyonce’s marriage with Jay Z.

Following this, women’s narratives that are independent of men will be treated as if they have resolved only because of men. Taylor Swift’s relationship with Calvin Harris was treated as the reasoning behind her success, Demi Lovato’s relationships with men disallow her bisexuality to be seen as legit, Halsey’s own relationships with men have choked out any other thing about her, Cassadee Pope’s win was credited to Rian Dawson’s fanbase, etc.

“Recovery” becomes a meaningless word to women’s narratives if they are not allowed an independent narrative.

So what makes this reflective of our society as a whole? It shows what we value and what we mock. Women who are single are to be mocked and told they’re the problem if they do not settle for less. Women who are weird are mocked because they’re funny and not actively striving to be pretty. Women who are sick must recover in order to be seen as inspiring. These are things that we can find examples of in every given pop star. It is why Madonna is mocked - she is an older woman who is still having fun. Older women are not supposed to be fun or be single.

This leads to a conclusion that despite all our progressive beliefs on an individual level, on a societal level we’re still stuck trying to implement second wave feminism. Until we fully dismantle the ableism in the recovery narrative, we will never be able to truly reclaim women’s narratives. Thank you for coming to my TEDTalk.

#i nearly lost this last time #mywriting #p: selena gomez #p: halsey #p: taylor swift #p: britney spears #p: lady gaga #p: demi lovato #abuse ment /#drug abuse ment /#mental illness ment /#Anonymous #there are other celebs briefly mentioned but i'm using these current ones to really drive my point home #anyway this is really long and i do not blame you if you did not read it #i'm not sure if i'm happy with it but i have other things to do now

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findingsamantha-blog1 · 7 years

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The Sum(me)r of Me

On the first day of summer break I posted this. Little did I know the massive metamorphosis my life would undergo.

My spring semester of my Junior year my life slightly fell apart. My dad overdosed again for the third time in a year, leaving my relationship with my family extremely strained. My boyfriend of almost 7 years began to question our future and what it was he truly wanted. This led to him telling me he no longer supported the idea of me going to medical school because we couldn’t have a family (which I realize now was fucking stupid). I slowly gave up on my own dreams and minimize myself in order to pursue the life we had planned together. I was working full time to support myself while taking my hardest semester of classes and studying for the MCAT, I slowly became so burnt out and unsure of what my life held, which was a feeling I have never felt. I was not depressed, but cannot honestly say that I wasn’t depressed at the same time.

On this day, May 6th, I prayed for clarity. I prayed that I would find peace with whatever my future held, regardless of career or significant others: that I would have a summer of me to figure out myself.

And that is what happened.

Less than 15 days later, my boyfriend of almost 7 years moved out of our home saying, “I know it means nothing but I’m so sorry.” He claimed he no longer knew what he wanted, including me. He shattered me into a million pieces. Never had a felt so worthless than that given moment. The only stability of a future had walked out. I was for sure my life was over, it was done. I would never be able to recover from such a horrific event, even if I had survived much worse.

My friends helped put myself back together (bless them). They spent every second with me, forcing me to eat, sleep, and rejoin society. They forced me to smile and move on with my life. They helped me rearrange my home and make it feel like home again. They checked on me even if I wanted to live under a rock unnoticed. When I could not leave my bed, they did my dishes and laundry. My sorority little lived with me for almost two weeks to make sure I was stable. I don’t know what would have happened if it wasn’t for them. I could not thank them enough for all their love during (and after) this time.

Now it’s been a month since he left. I’m over the initial shock and moving along with my life. I have learned to smile again. I still have problems sleeping at night as I roam what used to be our mattress for him. Eating comes and goes like my memories of him. He still haunts my every thought, but it doesn’t bother me as much. I took an MCAT despite the major tragedy that occurred two weeks before it (we’ll see come July 19th how that shit show went; lets be real, I already signed up for a retake). Although I had promised myself and everyone else a month before I was not applying to medical school, I applied with (forceful) help of my work family.

I prayed hard to find myself this summer. I prayed doors would close and others would open so whatever my future was supposed to be could happen. I prayed I would not feel that level of low ever again. I prayed to be led to whatever my future was supposed to be (can I mention that unknowingly while writing this blog facetiming my little, she read the verse Jeremiah 29:11 to me and she will never know how much that meant). Little did I know what I asked for, however it was everything I asked for. God has a sense of humor. Looking back though, I wouldn’t have had it any other way. I still hurt and cry and scream into my suffocatingly quiet home a day or two a week. I know one day though that won’t be the case and this journey will be all worth it. I just need to make sure I survive it first.

I decided to start this blog to capture this journey so that one day I can cherish it for all its beauty. I decided too maybe it could help someone other than myself. I plan on blogging events, thoughts, feelings, recipes, and stupid things I find to reblog. Expect a lot of science and studyblr type action. I plan to use this blog to help find me. To help be me.

In typical fashion, I find emotional solidarity from my homegirl taylor swift. I know at the end of this summer, I will fully understand. Right now I may feel a little red, but one day I will feel like 1989, or perhaps 1995.

Here is officially to the summer of me. Here is to finding Samantha, whoever she may be.

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somedaysiamspike · 7 years

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This is not a pretty picture. Here I have, assembled on my piano bench/coffee table, every medication, homeopathic, and herbal supplement that I have taken over the last three weeks. Folks, I have never been so sick in all my life. It usually takes an act of Congress to make me take an aspirin, so I'm incredulous as I stare at all the attempts I've made in the quest to actually feel somewhat normal again.

I am writing this as a public service. See that tall skinny prescription bottle on the left? It's an opioid, a narcotic mixture of Hydrocodone and Ibuprofin. It's nasty stuff, and people are dying by the thousands in the U.S. because of this and similar drugs. Seriously, we could let the 9/11 attacks occur 10 times, and they wouldn't take as many lives as the current opioid epidemic is claiming each year in our country. All I know is that the opioid you see before you messed up my brain like nothing before. I've since learned that others who have taken such medicines have suffered irreparable damage.

This all started when I felt some tooth pain while on a trip to D.C. I called my dentist back in Charlottesville and said I thought my old root canal was flaring up. We made an appointment for Friday, the next day.

Sure enough, our initial thoughts were correct. The root canal would have to be redone, but I wouldn't be able to make an appointment with the specialist until Monday. My dentist, therefore, decided to proscribe me two medicines -- an opioid and an antibiotic -- to get me through the weekend.

I must admit, I'm a little at fault here. My resistance was down. I had arrived back in Staunton from D.C. at 3 a.m., so I was tried and grumpy by the time I got to Charlottesville. I didn't ask about the medicines the dentist was prescribing, as one should always do. I figured: "She knows what she's doing. If she thinks I need this stuff to get through the weekend, I'll stop at the pharmacy and get it."

Wow. That stuff really did me in. By Sunday, I was burying my head in the pillows on the sofa, just praying someone would come along and put me out of my misery. TNT would have been a relief. For the first time, I learned how it felt to have a "splitting" headache. (It really does feel as if your head is splitting in two.) The thing is, I thought the source of my pain was the root canal, so I unwittingly kept making things worse by taking the pills that I thought would help.

Eventually, I put two and two together and stopped taking both prescriptions, but the floodgates had already opened. I developed all the symptoms of my first-ever migraine. I could not sleep. None at all. I was having weird micro-dreams and hallucinations. (There was one point, inexplicably, that all I wanted to do was watch Taylor Swift videos. What was that all about?) Gradually, very gradually, I have improved. I'm no longer hyper-sensitive to light, and I no longer have perpetual head pain. I'm still exhausted all the time, but it's going to take a while to fully recover my usual vim and vigor. I'm usually a very patient person, but I'm not a patient patient, so it feels long overdue to be a functional member of society again. Don't worry about me, folks; I'm going to be fine.

But, meanwhile, what are we doing to ourselves? As well all know, the U.S. medical care system is abysmal, and it has nothing to do with Obamacare. The problem began decades ago, when we essentially abandoned proactive medicine. A doctor should be telling you to eat better and exercise, instead of handing out pills at the drop of a hat. If an overweight person has joint pain, proscribe a diet -- not a pill.

But the pills keep coming, and they have to get stronger and nastier. And more addictive, with more side effects. Opioids are now almost as dangerous as white guys with guns, and that's really saying something.

So lay off 'em, folks. Do your homework before taking anything. Learn about natural remedies. Believe me, you never want to experience what I've just experienced.

By the way, for the record, here's everything in the photo:

- CVS Allergy relief tablets. I was so concerned over sleep that I had a doctor check out my ears for possible wax buildup. Turns out I had seasonal allergies for only the second time in my life. Great timing, huh? I found the CVS tablets in my medicine cabinet and took one before getting a homeopathic from my store. - Allercetin. The allergy homeopathic from my store. - A homeopathic migraine remedy. - Ibuprofen. Yeah, I know, but I was so out-of-it, I was trying anything I could find. - Aleve. Ditto. (Although Aleve did seem to work, and without any side effects.) - Amoxicillin. The antibiotic. Also, I suppose, a source of my agony, but I've never had a bad reaction to antibiotics. - DGL. Licorice, to soothe my queasy tummy. - Activated charcoal. Also to soothe a queasy tummy. - Hydrocodone-Ibuprofen. Evil incarnate.

#Onward and upward. #Healthy trails to all ...

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