Ok. Lets explore the other side. Maybe I am crazy. Maybe I am sick. Maybe I'm mentally challenged and I need to explore the whiling idea that approaching a mid life crisis, single, socially broken, and cursed to re-live the same day over and over again in some sick re make of the movie Ground Hog Day with me being demanded by whispers' that i have tantrums and yell them at called in radio stations of actually the real scenario of actually the real situation. They have many mentally challenged people here working. My mind, All of them.
I've been going to ask.com. A very well run site and I'm extremely happy with them and their responses to questions I posted to their site. They tell me that people that have contracted spinal meningitis are more susceptible to disorders such as schizophrenia, delusions of grander, and the like. I have yet to approach help. Well….I have yet to approach help here in the far off majestic miserable wilderness. I'll tell you all about that help later. But let me tell the ladies I will have a meeting with very soon about calling the pussy a pussy.
Note to self, i finally looked at the actual spelling of meningitis. Men - ing - it - is. I'm so confused.
I'd tell you of the other schizo idea i grew up with. That movie from the early nineties. When they inject a shrunken space ship into the blood stream and it attaches devices to the eyes and ears and can hear and see every thing. The idea of being a robot came before that, I was younger then ten then.
But I need to get ahold of my life and I don't need my life to get a hold of me. Lets explore the Idea that maybe I'm crazy. Maybe I'm sick. And, gross of all maybe they can give me pills again. The last drug I was prescribed Is currently being advertised on t.v. for giving males breasts. I just happen to be under the requisite of the mandatory 30 day use of the drug to be eligible for the law suit. typical. in all the avenues I've taken to try and resolve this. I also happen to be under the impression that doctors are crazy and I don't like them. The skull was cracked when I was two years old. In the hospital I contracted the virus because of a broken membrane that protects the brain.
The critic is either quiet or I'm drunk again.
The skull was cracked because I chased Doc Oct, a toy action figure. The villain in Spider Man out of a window when I was two. I was given a tour of the window four years after the fall and I think maybe memories were impressed on me. But I like the story and I'm sticking to it. Apparently there was a real doctor across the street after the fall that called 911. Who is he and I'm eternally great full.
What would suck about the drugs they may prescribe is they are disgustingly disorienting. You cannot think about anything when you were on them. A paint by numbers in the coo coos nest was impossible to do and was really me drooling inches from paper trying to stay inside the lines. I was in 2001 when proved that did that. That was a fun trip. I remember the nurses whispering asking me to be a leader in the community room of mentally distraught people. good whispers. I didn't. I talked to my roommate. we talked about the fact that he had smuggled a cigarette into the room. and the fact that I had a book of matches in the locker literally behind the wall we slept within. He got really mad when my promised book of matches was turned down when I was let go a week later. I also talked to a girl. She had been in the solitary confinement room. She was making lots of noise and really upset. They finally let her out. she sat front and center with me on the love seat directly in front of the t.v. We talked. We did drugs like I never knew. And we talked. We talked about things. We talked about us. she said I looked like him. Him I know, its what this whole shit storm is about. I look like him. fairly. I hate that word. I told her that we should escape. Behind the t.v. was a fire exit door. I planned with her for hours while we watched t.v. that we should escape. That we should take our crazy Doctor smocks off and run. I knew the area, the surrounding buildings layout anyhow. And we would need to think while we ran but we could do it. We went to the arts and crafts room where I tried to paint by numbers. She flirted with me. She told me because of the cameras we couldn't make out. She wanted to show me her sexy body. She put her back to the camera and wanted me to feel her breasts. I felt her shirt. Pressed her white shirt against her ribs and exposed the outline of her sexy breasts as the shirt tightened to her braw-less skin. She liked it. I came back to that hospital years later when I had a temp job given to me. It was a record management job. Like the movie American Splendor. A warehouse full of files. When a hospital needs your x=rays and such they send a request for my job at the time to push a ladder in some giant room and climb thirty feet to match a number to a folder. I'm not a bad guy. I did steal an exit sign from that building. It was full of social security numbers. Clepto is something i can now add to my resume. Fire code was being upgraded and a brand new exit sign was sitting there for the taking. And I took it. Slid it into my pants and walked to my car for a smoke break. The boss crossed me right when I reached the door of my car walking apparently to his car. We exchanged pleasantries and i awkwardly sat in my car to smoke and made off with my exit sign.
I'm not a bad guy. My rational is that that temporary job was given to me to test me if I was really a bad guy. The government thinks I'ma bad guy. we will get into that. will get into that right now. AGRHHHHH! ok. This was my first chance after I failed out of college and was trying to work. The best guy. I knew him all growing up. He had changed his name growing up because he found out his dad named him after a pack of cigarettes. He came to my aid and had a place for me to stay down the hill from the gas station I had just found a job at. While I'm waiting for the apartment complex I had applied at to let me have an apartment which actually takes forever when your dealing with forever. I thank you. I saw you on a buss years later and didn't talk to you. Im hurt. trying to resolve things. I miss you. AGRHHHHHHH! The apartment. I worked. I worked hard. I was a clerk. Sold smokes and let chips go stale. Graveyard shift. i found a Girlfriend that got five dollars of gas at a time. She was a Post Masters daughter and could tell you any zip code with her internal map. Her family took on orphans. They had three infants on respirators and life devices in their living room. I like her. she was involved in the stalking way before "James". And i stomped out of her life. After the drama that the girlfriend she was incurred I slipped. I would feed the corn dogs that I'd normally threw away to a group of rats that would come in late at night when I was doing the days change at the gas station. These guys….these guys I took on as friends. And soon I'm at an akward apartment with an akward guy asking to be my roommate. And I said yes. I said yes because I want to encourage the complex that I feel is being put on me. I said yes and acted like I had never seen people before. A castaway given chance to speak with people again. He moved in. His name was Lee ironically. Maybe his name was Lee. Leo Getz, he said. His story from what I know was he had worked at a law office. Learned some ins and outs. and He was a career criminal. But he was on a level that I was. As far as antagonize the system because the system prodded you. At the time and the time, I thought and think a bolt in my knee from a high school injury ACL, was actually a bug that people were listening to my everyday life with. And I wanted to walk a line and get as near bad because of bad. Despite reason. Its what I thought. He ran criminal behavior from my apartment for the month that i lived in my evicted apartment. I ran home to my parents after one of the guys kicked in and robbed my upstairs neighbor. I had been given an eviction notice when I let him move in and was in the process of moving my stuff back home as he squated my residence. I was watching him setting me up for huge trouble and for the reason of I don't care because the government was watching me do this live was I don't care. So he knew that I needed to move soon. I could say things. But I should say things.
it must have been after that that. Or it could have been before that but doubtful. I went to Costa Rica. but that is further in the story. I'm going to say next chapter….because i'm drunk goodnight.
Also because they took my internet away again.