Hello friends. Bloodshed embedded itself out of the heart of America, therefore into the individual souls that America bred.
While in the State Hospital, after I lived there for 8 months or so, I wondered what in the hell goal,other than leaving the incarnate place, might I set for myself? I sit here stunned, because If I set a goal then, I would’ve short-changed myself. Boggled down by ruminations of the aggressive type (Obsessive Compulsive Disorder), all I wanted consisted of a wrapped and very tiny package with an extremely rare and very valuable gem inside it. I wanted to think freely, clearly and kindly. Like a diamond, I desired to meet with acceptance the flaws in my character, and applaud the morality I knew existed at the core of my being. I joke around, because so much of my experience at the State Hospital facility fell into the “tragically funny” category.
For instance, a gruesome character of the female tenant started a laughable pattern of swallowing batteries. She experimented with AAA, moved onto AA, and then suddenly she sucked down a D battery. Why? She wanted off the unit, so that she might smoke a cigarette. Always the trouble maker, the staff decided to ban her from her cigarette breaks. It takes incredible intelligence or respectful stupidity to sit in one’s room alone, and swallow a battery with her express purpose. Of course the staff caught on to her conniving ways, and she no longer earned a trip to an outside hospital. If she ate a battery, her bowl movements worked the best to exit the battery out of her body. Just imagine…”Damn, where did I put my batteries?” “Oh my God, if I refuse to dig through my poop, I can forget listening to my CD player.”
I bet she listened to shitty music;)))
Now I still fall short of setting goals for myself. Might I clarify that I mean long term goals? The title I gave to the theme of my life, “Goal Interrupted,” still stands. However, within the points of nothing versus everything, or achieving a goal versus not achieving it…the interruption becomes the flavor, the spice, or the Mrs. Dash of my character. So, no matter if I set a goal and pursue it on a galloping horse, the pit stops where I read toilet poetry that makes me howl with every cell in my body I say thanks to the big man. Character precedes the goals that I meet that mean a great deal to me.
I never swallowed a battery, but not holding it against this terrified woman instilled tolerance into some aspects of my constitution.