Mental Illness: An Exposition 6/9-6/15 2021 Part 1

I look through mental illness to the world. These are my thoughts.

More often than not, people are who their environment has created them to be. A famous actor who grew up in LA. An artist who grew up in Paris. A farmer who grew up in Kansas. Or me, a writer who grew up in a small New England village on the outskirts of Hartford.

A fight broke out on the ward this evening. I was startled while reading, bud did not get up to close my door. I wanted to know what happened. It was soon broken up by the nurses who separated those who were fighting and closed our door to the outside. Jack asked me what time it was. I said maybe 30 minutes until dinner. With no watches or clocks in the rooms there’s no way for us to tell the time unless we go out into the main room.

I am wrong. It’s after dinner. Snack time is soon. I’m in the right place.

“The past is nothing and at last the future can be but the past.” -Byron

Dear Author, Congratulations!

You have literary genius.

How do we live our lives knowing that we will not be cured in our lifetimes? Knowing that we are the “others” called on by society to be invalids, scammers, homeless, and destitute, always dependent on another for our happiness? How can we proclaim a collective future when all futures are not collective? When society stops creating worlds for us to live in, and allows us to live in their world, as one of them, only then will the mentally ill, the autistic, the arthritic, the cancerous human afflicted by “uncurable” diseases liberated. Our profit motives, our research, our manufacturing, our technology, and most importantly our politics will be upended.


Nectar of Immortality,

My specter grows evermore.

Its scepter in the chamber of light,

Relation and Right.

The gods as they do lecture,

Turn throughout the night.

I began a man,

A leper by night.

Real life, real words, flow.

For the chronically ill to be truly free, for the major illnesses we face to be cured, we need a fundamental change in the governance structures which oversee our economy. Our economy provides goods, but mostly knowledge. We want to create the assembly line for knowledge, but we must now create a new politics to govern it. A truly free economy would enable us to free our minds and bodies from the scourge of illness. This economy would be free from outside intervention. Built from a major restructuring of the creative forces of our time.

No. Stop. All wrong.

Create more.

Think less.



Without meaning,

With empathy,

Kindness, Happiness.

What now shall I think, that all my thoughts are gone. A memory of a thing, a place I might belong.





Work for me is such a drag. How can I endlessly morallessly spend my days without energy for my own pursuits. It is by my own volition that I must engage. We live and we learn. Things may not come out the way that we imagine them. For me it will never be ok. I am dying of a broken heart.

So many places that I want to go, but so few of them are within reach. Paris, Rome, Rio, Johannesburg, Stockholm, Bankok. I’m 24. Will I ever see any of them? Being dependent on others is too difficult to bear at times. I wish I was sailing. Then I would be free to go as I please.

In this corner of the world that I occupy, how will anyone ever know my name? When I dream of sainthood, all else falls by the wayside. It’s not that nothing can compare, it’s just that… it can’t.

When the morals of men run together and blur the distinctions between right and wrong. The time is then to remove the pain, the anguish, the respectable semblance of equity, justice, and good faith. These come one and the same. The things that men do to ease the pain, only make the long run worse. Bringing you back to the time of sickness you drown in sorrow, mortality, and vice. This is the becoming of man when he runs with the pack. It is in a word, a necessity of the worst. By congregating around perceived similarities, men create exclusivity and jealousy which leads to vice, crime, and simply more pain and conflict. I have experienced this firsthand, again and again. Yet those involved have no idea. They know not what they do. Forgive them Lord. Amen.

What Alchemy is this,

Those who turn to gold,

For value or riches,

Ever seeking never finding,

Lost ones, so old.

Those who seek the devil,

What witchery is this,

For morality, an ethic,


What darkness,

Rests in the shadows,

of truth.

Haunting, overlapping,

This matrix of desire,

Ever searching for,

Want of more,

What joy resides,

In the spires,

Of glory.

Who tolls the bell,

In the end,

At the gate,

Of redemption.

How shall these days,

Be lasted.

How shall I spend my,


With you my friend,

I’ll see you again,

Beyond those holy,


History has left us at a crossroads. We are left with few choices to govern ourselves. We need leadership in order to bring our cause to the forefront of society and cure mental illness for good.

God exists and is the creator of the world. We serve God. The utopia we are searching for is freedom and leadership for intellectual freedom for the mentally ill. So how to free the minds of millions? A change in leadership of research, authority, and community of the mentally ill. We serve God, we love our earth and we deserve a higher place in our world. As an illness class who are uniquely shaped by society, we deserve to shape it in equal standing. This is the way to cure schizophrenia, bipolar, dementia, mania, depression, anxiety, and everything that is known today as an incurable mental illness. We must not be kept in the shadows.

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