Funny how we think of romance as always involving two, when the romance of solitude can be ever so much more delicious and intense. Alone, the world offers itself freely to us. To be unmasked, it has no choice.
You have the mind but you have not the body. and without the help of the body the cannot go as far as it should. You must make your body. It is hard drudgery to make one's body, but I know you will do it.
Timmy was this flaming feminine racest jokster that creeped me out more than anybody. He'd storm into the room wrists cocked(no pun intended) slurring his 'S's like they're going out of style, brushing his hair back so effeminately cussing at an imaginary "(racial slurr) cop [who was] welcome to fall on [their] mace at any god-damned time". Steve was a young black kid who couldn't help but to annoy the most threatening characters by walking up and asking if he could have a bite of their jello. I suspected he didn't really want the jello he just had to ask because it was like a game for him where one scores points by how much stuff one acquires. I caught him in the hallway rapping to himself one night about being rich and famous. Then there was Jerry the old bumbling mumble-head guy. I could have sworn he was telling all of our futures there in the corner with his crackers while we all tried to ignore his constant chatter. Next to him was this mexican guy that just spent a year and 1/2 in jail. He was a monster with a child inside. When something upset him, like his visiting girlfriend not bringing glasses with his magazines, he would become the hulk and start punching holes in the wall swearing he was gonna bust right out the front door. I wasn't frightened because I understood him the most. Thank god they put me in his room. If anything I could have him watching my back. There was another Aaron in the ward who they kept getting mixed up with me. They would switch our meals, and our urine samples, and just about anything else they could possibly fuck up. I taught them to call him Mr. P because his last name began with the letter 'P' and to call me Flynn because that's my last name. Mr. P seemed like a normal young sports loving dude like myself. He responded well to conversation and enjoyed playing games at group therapy. But if you watched him for long enough you could catch his hands twitching and a sly smirk washing across his face briefly every few seconds. He was crazy just below the surface, enough to fool me for a good minute or two. Lastly there was this pale, innocent, abused, soft, cheeky, sorta cute girl. Alright she was cute. She rounded out the cast too perfectly and we had such a balance. Each person was different and crazy in their own way. When a new character/patient was introduced we all tried to pretend like it was an environment that would cater to every persons needs, but deep down both the nursing staff and the patient body was aware of an invader amongst us.
there is this feeling of helplessness. like a beetle on it's back that can't maneuver it's body in any reasonable fashion. an insect so paralyzed mentally and physically by stress that the possibilities seem limiting to an extreme. I don't have time or energy to move myself from this dark apartment, or to find a new line of work, or to re-invent myself. Without the proper winding of the rubber band the plane won't have the inertia to do anything but clumsily fall to the floor and break.