Oh let's get rich!

Oh let's get rich and buy our parents homes in the south of France

Let's get rich and buy everybody nice sweaters and teach'em how to dance!

Let' get rich and build a house on a mountain making everybody look like ants

way up there, you and I, you and I. (Ingrid Michaelson)

Listen here: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OvMVCHhwTPs


I feel overwhelmed with the amount of doctors/treatments I'm supposed to be (not) seeing/(not) doing. 
First of all, my mother's eternal battle and push and shove for the Dermatologist-God. "Você não vai não? Vai minha filha, vai...você é tão bonita com esse rosto assim...vai por mim, vc não vai querer ter 50 anos e um rosto esburacado e pensando "eu devia ter ido quando era jovem""!  MEDO. Além da chantagem emocional que está implicada ai...
Then there's the neurologist/acupunturist/therapist/general clinician for blood work. I don't have the faintest idea of where to start and the slightest motivation to get informed. It's just too much. People pro medicine, people wary of medicine, people pro acupuncturists, people who defend neurologists, people with horrible neurologist experiences, people who don't care about my pimples and my mom who scrutinizes every inch of skin (and me, scared of being a hideous 50 year old). Pills for this, pills for that, pills for getting off pills, pills to help with side-effects of other pills, pills that don't allow themselves short-term usage, why not, why not, why not...? stuck. And really, in the end, it's all an experiment because nobody's sure of anything. Just dandy!


What about...
I dream of getting out of here and out of the symmetrical roads and avenues that make up this city and going you know where.
I dream of leaving behind the psychiatrist and the hundreds spent on that each month, dream of having this be just a bad dream and not 7 years of drug polemics. Start over. Give my body a new chance to try again in its purity. 
Dream of speaking/living/breathing another language, working somewhere I could have never imagined (and therefore never feared) and taking subways and buses with that liberating feeling of independence that so makes me glow. 
Let's get rich and go to Italy! Now we're talking...


Well you might be a bit confused
And you might be a little bit bruised
But baby how we spoon like no one else
So I will help you read those books
If you will soothe my worried looks
And we will put the lonesome on the shelf!