...right now I wished I never went too far before and forced my therapy into the pharmaceutical

..I used to taste the sounds I used to touch the smells I used to see the world in some alien delight!

now like a mist a dopey fog allows only barely an illumination of the kind sky..

it reminds me of the urgency I have been subjected to...

to meet this world with a "performance"...otherwise to what I have been born like!

there is no settling with my illness

I continue to be damaged by the same old silly questions??

...like.. 'was it me?'
...like.. 'are they right?'
...like.. why am I so mixed up?'
...like.. how come they are not?'

...like ...'why am I so scared before anything is there to be scared about?'

my experience tells me I am psychotic when I express myself...

...that my feelings are damaged before they even arrive...

that something within my observers suggests I can evaluate and validate such an apparently accidental purpose?!

sends me emotionally crippled back to the beginning...

and no matter what I do I am always at the beginning...

DM