It's been a month, hasn't it? Since I changed my brain meds. I think so. Closer to two months. I felt a twinge of nausea this morning and remembered it used to always make me feel like that when I took it. Rare now.

There remains a sneaking suspicion that it's working too well. I rather like having a healthy rebellious streak, that anti-authoritarian irrationality marbled through like chocolate in fudge ripple ice cream.

Can't have too much chocolate in there, because at some point you're basically eating syrup.

With every brain medication I wonder if something is missing. What is it hiding from me? Is my personality like an orchestra, and the medicine is making sure the bassoon doesn't come in late, putting a little more flair in the strings, and finally bringing some order to the anarchist revolution that's been taking place in the percussion section since the start of the show?

Possibly it's more like a song already recorded in the studio. Turn up the bass, turn down the treble, tweak the sounds that are already there without really creating anything new.

At least it lets me dream again. Maybe that's what makes the world seem a little different now.