The Desert Ball of Thorns Bruising My Hand With Their Face
The man had been complaing about the puss coming from the pungee stab and said that he "always cared more about his feet than he should have."
Games, Games. Here's some games. (the games are locked behind a metal screen) Games that want to get out, ha. See? More games. Games, they vegetize you. See? BAH! If you play the games you're voluntarily taking a tranquilizer.
I guess they gave you some chemical restraints, huh? DRUGS! What'd they give you? Thorazine? Haldol? How much, how much?? Learn your drugs, know your dosages, it's elementary.
There's the television. It's all right there. All right there. Look, listen, kneel, pray.
Commercials. We're not productive anymore. We don't make things anymore. It's all automated. What are we for then? We're consumers. (We'll buy our way to victory- if not the terrorists have already won.)
Yeah. Okay, okay, buy a lot of stuff and you're a good citizen. But if you don't buy a lot of stuff, if you don't, what are you then I ask you? What? Mentally ill!
Fact, Jim, fact. If you don't buy things: toilet paper, new cars, computerized blenders, electric operated sexual devices, stereo systems with brain implanted headphones, screwdrivers with miniature built in radar devices, voice activated computers!!
So, uh, you wanna watch a television show, you go to the charge nurse, you tell her the day, the time, the show you wanna see. But you have to tell her BEFORE the show comes on.
There was this guy, and he was ALWAYS requesting shows that had already played. YES! NO! You have to tell her before. He couldn’t quite grasp the idea that the charge nurse couldn’t make it be yesterday, you can’t turn back TIME, thank you Einstein. Now HE, HE was nuts! He was a fruit cake Jim!(.)
In omnibus requiem quaesivi, et nusquam inveni nisi in angulo cum libro.
Telephone call? That's communication with the outside world. Doctors discretion. Uh-uh. Nah. Hey, if all these nuts could make just make phone calls, it would spread insanity oozing through telephone cables. Oozing to the ears of all these poor, sane people. Infecting them. Wackos everywhere, a plague of madness.
In fact, very few Jim, Jim, very few of us here are actually mentally ill. I'm not saying you're not mentally ill, for all I know you're (twitches) crazy as a loon. But that's not why you're here. That's not why you're here, that's not why you're here!! You're here because of the system.
"Sometimes I think nothing is simple but the feeling of pain"-He said this before he disappeared over the railing. He never finished his drink; yet they said that Natalie Wood was sleepwalking and that the coroner could only declare a passive apllication of stoppage of that simplicity- scarcely could it be deemed a word as aggresive as DEATH, not without the corpus.
"Quit talkin out yo fuckin neck BITCHES." (in regards to the immediately preceeding statement please see above)
addendum
I feel like this:
knowing your soul looks like this:
FACE
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
