Adderall Conquered! The World Beckons!

Success! Success! Success!

After a long and harrowing year and a half without Adderall, the slow process of recovering missing dopamine has been completed! There is now enough dopamine all over the mental space in Rachel's brain to prevent dark spots all together! THERE ARE NO MORE DARK SPOTS AT ALL! Read 'em and weep, no more dark spots! We are recovering biochemically from years of Adderall abuse!

After awhile you start to wonder, is it worth staying off? You wonder, now that my brain is back to normal, why don't we do it all again? Everyone stares at you with anticipation. Who are you to stop going back on Adderall and having fun again? And if you like Adderall, why don't you try cocaine too?

I know the reasons why they say this, and I like to pretend I like a few of them, but I don't. We know the reasons, here in the Rachel Zuhl Experience, why we are clean and sober from all drugs except acceptable legal drugs barring pot. NO POT EITHER! We are clean, here in the Rachel Zuhl Experience. We like being clean. It's something we decided to do to keep rampant bad moods and biochemical reactions from destroying out sanity.

In the mean time, we marvel at the effect sobriety has had on our brain! We think of the self-confidence boost, and the belief that we can be happy naturally, without the aid of artificial stimulants that boost neurotransmitters temporarily. Other than that, we enjoy listening to the banter inside our minds when it is fueled with passion, not something like fun.

In the mind of Rachel Zuhl, there is a new structure that comes from enhanced awareness and thoughtfulness due to sobriety long term. It means we are better now than we were before, having conquered a very strong addiction and come out on top! We are the strongest thing in the room! Look around, Rachel! See that vase right there? We are stronger than that! Now throw it! See how easily it breaks! That is the symbolic representation of your parents.

This dream continues to reoccur.

Around and Around We Go!

Whatever! Sweetheart Samantha said to Ruby Lovegirl.

So what? Ruby said back. I like him, you know! He's funny and intelligently arousing when he touches himself to the rhythm of the music!

So go ask him out! Samantha screamed at Ruby.

Ruby sauntered over to Godo. He was stunning. She put her hand on his bicep and screamed. The next thing you know, Godo was making out with her! All happened so fast! Everyone was watching!

There was a newsflash in the local paper: local man eats woman out and loves it!

Every day, there was a new newsflash! Local woman sucks cock and spits than swallows after a lot of stern talking from the other man!

Then, there was a real shocker: Local man eats pussy too hard and finds something wrong with it: She has herpes!

No way! Samantha screamed at Ruby who was bawling.

No way! Ruby screamed back.

No way! Godo's younger brother Kiddo said to them.

Then the four of them looked on. When they looked on, Godo came back with his test results!

Positive for herpes of the throat and genitals!

Sincerely, Ruby apologized. One time when she was at Food Situations Anonymous, she had sex with a man without checking his genitalia first. When she woke up a few mornings later, she had broken out all over her genitals. When she thought about that morning, she cried hard each time it didn't happen the way she wanted it to happen.

Whatever, Ruby, Samantha said to Ruby. They all four walked home. When they got to Samantha's house, it was time for s'mores!

What a romp! Mystic #3 said to Mystic #4. When they got done philosophizing over something else entirely, the third mystic in the group stopped talking and started making weird noises. They called an ambulance, as this was abnormal mystic behavior.

When they cleaned up the mess, there was something amiss! A piece of plastic left on the counter. It looked like it contained a one month prescription to Adderall! Ruby looked on. She didn't want them to know it was hers.

Ruby, is that your Adderall you left behind? Samantha yelled over the sound of the mystics talking to the cops.

No way! No way! No way!

MINE! Samantha grabbed it and took three. When the police had left the building, she removed her clothes to see if she was skinny yet.

The four of them walked to the store to buy cantaloupe. When they got back, each piece of cantaloupe in the package had a small piece of yarn on it. When they looked closely, they wondered how that could have happened.

No one know. This mystery haunted them for a long time later. At the end of a particularly gruesome haunting, everyone was left baffled by another ball of yarn at a saw mill a day after the last of the pieces of yarn were collected from the cantaloupe. On and on it went. Everywhere you look, in every paper, yarn mystery was on the cover. When they finally got to the bottom of the problem, they didn't want to tell anyone that it was that mysterious young fellow Kiddo, he was always so nice on the surface but so two-faced underneath. When they got home from another day of band practice, they found wire utensils in all of the drawers instead of napkins. When Kiddo didn't finally fess up, they forced it out of him by slowly tearing holes in all four of his internal organs over and over again until he bled to death. This story didn't make the papers.

Climate Change Deniers: Repent or Perish!

Time for a bath!

What?

Time for a bath!

What? Time for a bath in the raging fire of hell!

Why?

You left out the soap. Take it in with you and remove your mind from the scenario.

What does that mean?

You are dirty, your mind is foul, and you are a heathen. Your blatant disregard for the Earth plane is a crying shame. Now, repent, or take a bath!

The oceans rose, and enveloped the entire planet. Al Gore was there. He looked on. He knew this would happen. Now, it was happening. Now, they had no choice but to bathe in the fire.

Where is the fire? Al asked.

Rachel replied, in the sink. I will show you.

They got on a boat. They sailed across the ocean to the Anarctic. There was dry land. On the shore, Rachel found the soap. They played catch with the soap, before returning to the ocean for a bath.

Where do we find the rhythm and harmony to collide peacefully with the survivors? I asked Al.

Nowhere. We are done for too. I told you this would happen.

But I always knew! I was always plagued by nightmares of this happening! Now it is happening! Why didn't we do something?

We did, but it wasn't enough. The climate change deniers kept egging on the random folk to make them think I was in it for the money.

I know! I watched! I was breathless!

I saw you too, and I knew that. Now it is time for a bath!

NOT A BATH!

Yes, a bath. Let's scrape clean the wild people off your backside.

I turned over, and there were wild people all over my backside, like he said! They were mean money grubby climate change deniers. They looked mad.

Why are they mad? I asked. They got what they wanted!

They don't like the outcome. They didn't know it would come on so quickly!

I liked what he was saying, but I looked on in horror. There was a bird shaped envelope in front of me. God had a memo!

DON'T WATCH! RUN!

We ran. Nowhere to run, nowhere to hide. We walked to the back of a fire engine and got on board. When we were done, the planet had crumbled into nothing. We were floating in the air. Soon, a bird arrived to tell us our fate.

YOU WILL DIE!

I died first, he died last.

Danny Elfman: The Wonder Man

I would like to take a minute to talk about my favorite music artist, Danny Elfman!

Danny Elfman is very intelligent when it comes to music. He writes music and it sounds heavenly. Except, usually it doesn't sound heavenly. It usually sounds whimsical or mysterious.

One day, a long time ago, I was listening to the South Park soundtrack! I was listening, and I decided I liked musicals. When I got home from Innercept, I was looking for the Cats soundtrack when I found the Nightmare before Christmas soundtrack instead. I decided to take it for a listen. I went upstairs to my room and loaded the soundtrack into iTunes. When I did so, I was impressed with this man Danny Elfman. I was taken aback by how wonderful the music sounded! I looked him up on wikipedia, and I found out he wrote the theme song for Simpsons too! Wow! The best song ever!

We in the spirit world know these kinds of songs. There are certain types of songs that evoke hard to reach emotions, and there is no Earth word to describe that kind of song! They are hard to write! Very hard! But Danny Elfman wrote the best one ever in the Simpsons theme song. It is the hardest to reach emotion of any song! There are others, like the Candy man song, which I hate. There is the song about how loving you is easy because you're beautiful. There is that song So Happy Together. There are quite a few Christmas songs, which evoke hard to reach emotions. Greensleeves is another. There are many more! They are hard to write! Danny Elfman wrote the best song ever for the Simpsons theme!

I was so taken aback by Danny Elfman's whimsical music, that I developed a crush cord to him. When I got a little bit older, I decided I was in love with Danny Elfman! I liked him in that way! But now I don't care anymore.

I got into his band, Oingo Boingo. It's a good band! There are some good songs. My favorite songs are Insanity, Change, Grey Matter, Stay, Weird Science, Controller, Imposter, and Sweat. My favorite song is Insanity of them all. It is a good song for thinking of things to come!

When I get a little bit older, I will meet Danny Elfman. I will tell him I am his best fan, not his biggest, because big is a good word to describe freaks. After that, I will tell him why I like him. Because his mind is crazy smart!

Helicopter Clientelle

So that's how I made it happen! I yelled to the guidance counselor.

She blinked. And then she scowled. And wrote a note on a piece of paper.

I left, feeling elated. Then, my dog walked in the building. He was lost.

Oh no, not this again! I yelled.

My best friend Samantha was there in spirit. She looked at me in the face and screamed my name. All around me, the crowds were circling. Friends not at all. They watched from a distance as my friend Samantha ate a piece of cheese in front of my face and screamed obscenities at me for not asking the guidance counselor how many credits I could make due with.

I left her beside herself, whisked her away with the flick of my wrist. My dog was looking for me. He looked lost. I touched him and he disappeared. Not again! Not again!

Rachel, wake up! my dad screamed in my face.

I looked up at him. He was dead to me. I could tell he was waiting for me to wake up. He wanted nicotine gum. I screamed obscenities and went to the safe and got him some. Afterwards, he chewed loudly. Sat in the corner and chewed. I watched him. He had a knowing smirk on his face. Like he knew my secret. I chewed a piece and stared back. We both chewed loudly, trying to outdo each other. Than, the cat puked right in front of us. Puked its guts out.

I got up and told him to leave. He left and went to ask a question about me from his guides. He knew little about talking to guides, so he just asked his hand. His hand told him no. I didn't hear the question.

It was time for school. I looked in the mirror. My face looked ugly. I needed makeup. If I wore makeup, I would be a drop dead gorgeous babe! But there was never enough makeup to cover the dark circles. Never enough. If only I had some other mechanism to cover them up.

At school, a boy asked my hand in marriage. I told him maybe. I would think about it. After I thought for three days, I looked at the future and it said he would end up dying of a disease before his time. I politely declined his invitation, giving him a message from my guides to get over his weird obsession.

I left school that day feeling flabbergasted. When I got home, my dad was eating a sandwich. He looked at me and screamed. He was in an altered state. I yelled at him, "ARE YOU ON DRUGS!?"

He looked taken aback. "NO!!!" he screamed at the top of his lungs.

I looked at his demeaner, the weird mix of vegetables on the sandwich, and thought he was lying but didn't say so. He did this from time to time.

I went upstairs into my bedroom to do something else. He was watching television downstairs. I could hear him talking to himself about me. He didn't say anything mean, but it was all blatantly inaccurate so I went down to set him straight. When I looked at his eyes I saw the fear, and told him it was okay. Don't talk to those guides anymore. They are wrong.

He was happy to be prepared for the next meeting, and went upstairs and met with a former colleague. He was working on an article for the newspaper. When he got upstairs, all the math in his mind fell out. He was looking all over the floor and he couldn't find any more of the math he had left in his mind before it fell out.

The cats gathered, and started eating the math. When they were done eating, they were smarter than he was. They started speaking to him about quantum mechanics and they outdid him with logic! He looked baffled and asked the cats a question about hairballs. The cats looked taken aback, put in their place, and left without making a sound. One cat stayed behind. It was his favorite. It told him a joke about Rachel needing more prescription pot to help her mind problem. He laughed and patted him on the head. When he did so, he stole the math back and put it back in his own mind to continue working.

Rachel sat in her room and pondered. Then, the doorbell rang. It was Matthew Mason. He looked taken aback by her ragged appearance, and tried to kiss her. She tried to get him away. His hands were everywhere!

AHHH!!! Rachel was running around screaming until she woke up from another bad dream. She was surrounded by ghosts. The ghosts looked at her and screamed obscenities about her ragged looking eyebrows. She looked back and fainted.

When she came to, her mom was there. She had soup. Rachel was sick. She wanted to feed her with a spoon. Rachel wanted to feed herself. When Rachel told her mom that, she looked downtrodden. She looked at Rachel and held up the spoon of soup. Rachel did not eat. She slurped her own mind food out of a can and outdid her mother with mathematical genius.

The next day at school, Matthew was there handing out gift certificates for a brainwash session. Rachel wanted one! He offered one to Rachel, and gave her a free certificate for unlimited sexual massages. She wanted none of these! She gave them back! He handed her an extra brainwash ticket and told her to be at his house at 5.

The next day, Rachel woke up. She was awake. She knew it! Her dad was in the other room reading. She told him she had had a bad dream.

The bad dream was about a mouse. He was ugly. When he ate cheese, he always frowned. Whenever the cheese tasted bitter, he ate less. When he got ugly and frowned, the mouse next door wouldn't speak to him. Then, he ate little cheese and drank little wine and grew little in the mind. His spiritual growth went down hill and he died inside. When he woke from his bad dream, the mouse spoke little of any language and could not communicate. All the other mice laughed at him in unison. Their unisonic laughter echoed and the mice chirped happily when he cried. This went on for all of eternity until hell collapsed and devoured everyone. Everyone was in unimaginable misery until the end of time.

When Rachel told him this story, he frowned and cried. He hated dream interpretation. He told her to take a bubble bath and leave it alone.

The next day, she looked at her body in the mirror again. It was bad. She never stopped touching her body to see how skinny she was. She never stopped until someone made her. The person was Matthew Mason. He said stop touching, I will never stop touching myself if you never stop touching. After that, Rachel never touched her body again.

Dude and Dude Alike!

How about a back rub? I asked my friend Randy.

How about a piece of paper to write down those ideas? He listened intently to what I had to say. He made out with his hand while talking to me. I watched his tongue move. It moved like a party dance.

I scared him off with a story of my past. He was mad. He looked up from the rhythm of his toes to work on my face. He looked at my face and worked his mind so hard his brow furrowed. I got worried and touched the furrowed brow. It removed from his face and danced on top of the ceiling.

Shit woman, what are you taking?! He screamed at me. Meanwhile, I was rhythmically hypnotized by the movements of his mouth. They formed syllables, like a pencil would form letters. I asked him to repeat a word many times because I liked the way it looked.

Silhouette, how did that taste? Did the word taste good? Can I have a taste? I asked Randy. He looked enticed, but mad at the same time.

Don't go there Rachel, I need you clean and sober for tomorrow! Don't go there!

I tasted the word in his mouth. It tasted like candy. Chocolate chip marshmallow swirl. I ate the word and savored it in my mouth until I started heaving like I was going to blow chunks. Randy touched me on the boob. I looked at him and smiled. I dry heaved and vomited not at all, got a second wind and made out with him again.

We stared at each other in the eyes and then looked down. He looked at my blouse. It was pretty with cotton suds of wax all over the sides. He touched my boob and smiled again. I laughed.

NO! I screamed. NO! I screamed again. And NO! I don't want that anymore! Not anymore! Not anymore! Not that! Stop! It hurts the side of the unicorn horn!

What?

I lived there with you, remember? The castle? We lived there together?

Oh boy... Rachel, you are not good on shrooms. Don't act dumb. Please. My parents are coming tomorrow!

I listened hard and listened good. When I was done listening, I asked him to say something again so I could demonstrate my good listening abilities. He said my name over and over again. I listened again and said nothing.

Now Rachel, don't freak out. I'm going to show you something and I want you to touch it, okay?

I looked at him in the face. He bled! He bled from every pore! I touched the blood. Smelled it. Caressed it with my finger. And then blew it in the wind.

Okay, sweetie. What do you want me to touch?

We smiled at each other. There was something wrong with something on his face. It looked wrong. I talked to it to make it feel all right again. Every word I spoke fell flat. Each time I said something, he looked at me and shrugged his shoulders. It became a really awesome shrugging game, seeing how many times I could get him to shrug his shoulders. I watched the outline of his face pronounce my name again, but I wasn't listening. I couldn't hear him anymore. There was a noise outside the room and in waltzed another handsome strapping fellow.

Hi Ryan! What up? Randy said. His words spoke out loud again like they usually did. I coughed and spit. Venom of a sexual sort. I watched as he worked up the courage to ask me how I was.

Why? I asked Ryan.

He looked at me, sexualizing me existence. He talked out loud and spoke thoroughly, and each word bounced off the ceiling and into my throat. I began coughing. Each cough sounded like a hiccup to my other ear, but to the first ear it sounded hoarse. I was sick.

Don't do that again, Rachel! Randy screamed. I was touching his face again. I moved my hand to touch his penis instead.

Like that better? I smiled at my own intelligence. He smiled a half hearted smile and went back to ruminating on the past.

I choked and vomited on his shoulder. He looked happy. I looked down at the vomit. It was invisible. He looked at my face and scanned it for a happy facial expression. None found. Mission aborted.

I got up to take a piss. On the way to the bathroom, I got lost. I looked up and down, but not around. I couldn't find my way to the restroom. I looked inside my hand for a solution. There was a picture there of me and someone else. I didn't know who it was. I wanted to ask my mind, who is this a picture of? But no one was home. I went back to the room without pissing.

On the way in the door, I got Ryan giving Randy a handshake. I wondered why they were shaking hands. It was not customary at this point in time. I asked Randy to give me a handshake. He looked at me funny and smiled secretively to Ryan. They both chuckled. I didn't know why.

Why? That's what I asked both of them when they were done swallowing their food. Why? They screamed at me with their mouths open but I couldn't hear them anymore. They looked like food to me. I couldn't eat them though. They would get mad.

At the end of the night, I was alone. Cold and lonely in the middle of the street, screaming about how it wasn't my fault. They stared at me out the window and asked me to grab a cab. We would talk about it later. I wandered the streets for a long time and met no one. It was the end of the line.

I found a ditch and played dead, until morning came. When morning came, someone was looking at me with funny facial features. It was my dad. He wanted to know why. I told him why.

Because I wanted to. That's why.

Martyrdom Composed Harmoniously Without Sound

But how? said my dad.

What?! I screamed. We were waiting at the market for a fish taco. When all was said and done, we left.

I left first, he left last. Together, we both left twice. When we got home, I ran to the bathroom. Time to urinate frequently enough to entice my bladder with envy.

What's that? said a voice behind me. It was Mischief. She wanted to play.

NOT NOW! I screamed, and vomited all over the password to my computer.

Where now? I asked my mind. The cough syrup was in my system. I wanted to ruminate and decide on many a thing, but first, Mister Friend Time came out of the closet and bamboozled me with more games and merry things.

Time for a shower! My mother crooned through the back door, but her heart wasn't in it. I asked her what happened to it? She looked at me and sighed, told a tale of a long lost love gone foul, and moaned about it for an hour or so before I vomited again all over her blouse. When I was done, she thanked me for a good supper and went outside to iron the shower curtain I had bent out of shape.

Who's this? My dad asked me through the window. He was mowing the lawn. He looked pale. I asked him to stop using so much sun block, and he scowled and cried. I comforted him with a song and he made out with my mother for an hour in back of the shed. I watched and cried a tear of love gone awry, then went outside again to remove myself from the madness going on in my mind.

Time for a walk! My friend Penelope sang out from up above. I wandered awhile, amiss with gratitude for the masterful idea of love she gave me in my mind. I watched the sky turn gray, then cried out for the sun to envelope me again with pleasure.

At the energy drink store, I decided to try something new. I bought a new flavor of breath mint and spewed tales to my friends there. One of them laughed, the other sniffled, the next scowled and then went up to heaven without looking because he was about ready to die already and the story pushed him over the last place he had been in his mind near death.

On the way back, I slipped and fell. When I got to the bottom of the puddle, I couldn't find my way back to the top. When I made it there, I found out I didn't really make it out because my dad told me so. They were in the car. Time for a visit to Grandma-ma-ma, fa-la-la-la, diddly deedly da.

When we arrived at the hospital, the lady in red was waiting. What have we here? The man in black said.

Ritalin in, Ritalin out. She made it out of the puddle alright, but her mind is still out the door!

The probed me with needles until I made out with a man in the waiting room, who was visiting his mom who slipped and fell in the shower and broke her face. With her face broke, she couldn't ask questions of a fucking mean nature anymore, good riddance. I asked him if he missed her. He told me yes, but at the same time he would rather see her full of needles than happy in her place of worship.

I looked past the stars and the sky, until I got to the end of the story line in my mind. When I was finished, a girl asked me if I was blessed. I told her once I was, but the needles took it away. She pretended not to hear me and ate a sandwich loudly. I screamed loud enough for her to hear, but she didn't hear. I screamed again. And again. And again.

When I awoke from the nightmare, I was surrounded by elves. They danced in circles and waited for an answer. What is the answer? they asked me over and over again.

I did not know. I cried and shriveled into a ball. They danced some more and asked again. I still didn't know. I cried again. They danced and laughed and hurt each other with knives until they all bled. They bled so much I couldn't stand it. I tried to wake myself from this bad dream but I couldn't. The narcotics were too strong.

When I awoke, I was mad. Mad at the doctors. Mad at my dad. Mad at my mother the most. But in the end, it was okay. You didn't die. Your reacted powerfully to the medication and survived without insinuating that there was anything wrong with what we did to you. That's good. That's fine.

Then, I was okay inside, but filled with venom for all that had happened. I wanted to write books. Sing songs. Dance in front of the judges at the hospital for making it all up. They were the bad guys.

But I didn't. Instead, I stayed true to myself and sat back and listened to my mom. She told me over and over again. Die little, die less. Die more, die yes. If you make it out of this rat hole, don't listen to your parents ever again. We failed you once, failed you twice, without a doubt, the happiness is nice. But when you die again, don't wither. I'm watching you, Rachel. I'm watching you.

I lived again, and that's the end.

Post Traumatic Dancing Disorder

This is good, my dad said, looking at the steak.

Why? I asked, befuddled by his gluttonousness.

I stared as he ate the steak in large mouthfuls. I stared as he fixed himself a slice of cake afterwards. And I stared as he went over to the TV and watched television, looking satisfied.

I went to the kitchen for my dinner. There was half a tomato and a piece of lettuce. I ate this and went upstairs to cut myself on the piece of mirror I found in my dad's arm chair.

I cut, then stopped. I was sick of this lifestyle. Did I really want to be thin? No. I didn't care. I just wanted someone to care about me. Everywhere I looked, girls my age had boyfriends. I had Mark. I looked up and he was not sitting next to me. I sighed and went back to the kitchen for an after dinner snack, as I was still hungry as hell. I had not forgotten about cutting. I planned on doing that later.

In the kitchen, I found a piece of steak. I stared at it hard. I was so hungry. I looked at myself in the mirror hanging by the fridge. I didn't look skinny, no. But skinnier than I had a couple months ago, yes. I stared at my fat stomach and cringes. God. I couldn't believe I used to be okay looking like that!

I put the steak back in the fridge. God I was hungry. God I wanted to eat it. But no. I was too fat. I found something in the back of the fridge. A half-eaten slice of tomato pudding. I did not understand who would eat tomato pudding. That was so fattening.

WHO THE FUCK MADE THIS TOMATO PUDDING?! I screamed.

My dad was watching Television. He knew I was on a diet. Didn't care. Teenage girl stuff. He looked up from the television and stared dumbfounded at me.

Why are you yelling? I made it last night and ate it already, except for one part for you!

I was fuming. WHY?! I HATE IT!!! IT'S SO FATTENING!!!

Laura, why are you yelling? I thought you liked tomato pudding!

I sat down, steadied myself, and calmed myself down. I touched my wrist bone. It jutted out a little bit farther than I remembered. I smiled a slight smile and sat back. "No. I don't eat that anymore. Throw it out!"

He looked at me dumbfounded, sat back, and scowled. Laura, what's with you? I'm worried about you! You are taking the diet way too far. I think we need to take you to the doctor to straighten out your body image issues. You look fine. I know I'm not one to talk, but you look good. I know. I'm a man.

Laura was dumbfounded and grossed out, but understood that he wasn't coming on to her so she decided to let it slide. She stood up and shrieked.

WHY DON'T YOU UNDERSTAND?! THIS IS NOT WHO I AM ANYMORE!! I'M NOT YOUR DAUGHTER! I WANT OUT OF THIS HOUSE!

He looked at her and died inside. Her daughter wanted out of the house. He started to hold back a tear, realizing this was teenage angst. He thought long and hard about the best way to handle this. Ice cream was out. That's what his dad always did.

How about a shopping trip? He asked her.

She looked at him and screamed. "I'M TOO FAT TO BUY NEW CLOTHES!!!" she shrieked.

I know, I know, I know. Oh boy, Sweetie? Danielle? Can you bring out some Ativan for Laura please?

I DON'T WANT ATIVAN IT SLOWS DOWN THE METABOLISM!!

Her mom walked out from the other room. "Laura sweetie, how about a back rub?"

NO!!! I WANT OUT OF THE HOUSE!!!

How about a bubble bath?

NO!!! I HATE BATHS!!! THEY MAKE YOU THINK TOO MUCH!!!

Time for a psychiatry appointment, Danielle said.

Laura was driven to the psychiatrist's office the next day, where she was pumped full of narcotics and given a prescription for Seroquel and Depakote to combat depression and anxiety. She gained 40 pounds and lost even more self-esteem. When she turned 18, the medication caused something like a manic episode due to unforeseen side effects and she was sent to live at Adderall Center for Medication related illnesses. She learned that all side effects to medications could be treated by abstinence from drugs. When she turned 22, she was given a prescription for Ativan and turned to suicide over and over again to calm the pain of rejection from man after man after she gained another 20 pounds from the antipsychotics. When she got a little older, her parents put her in a permanent stay hospital because she wasn't getting any better. She was visited by three angels during the night, giving her hope that she was on a quest and she was going to help stop the world from prescribing antipsychotics. When her guides entered the picture, they told her real name was Esmerelda and that's what they called her all the time behind her back. She was mad but got better when they rewired her brain to be more sarcastic and witty and beat the hell out of her parents in a custody war over the custody of her only child who lived with them and was force fed narcotics in his morning cereal. After she won the case, she lived a long and prosperous life giving speeches and performing miraculous mental scans of people's energy bodies, discovering unusual ailments and treating them with magic random pranks. When she got old enough to look back on her life, she was disappointed. Not because she had done a poor job living life to the fullest, but because for so many years she had neglected to shave her legs and so given the opportunity, she wouldn't have been able to have sex with a guy and have him enjoy it. When she came to this realization, her legs started sweating profusely from an altered sweat gland condition and she died suddenly. Her body was donated to science.

What a Shit Show!

What a boy! I said to him.

What a girl! he said to me.

We kissed and held hands. Then, we died inside, thinking of all the things we could do to each other and not get caught in this place.

I looked around the barn. It was empty except for a hay pile. I went to the hay pile and sat down. While we were making out, a barn owl decided to throw up on my face.  I screamed and ran down the barn and ran through the door.

He followed me. "Josephine!" he yelled.

I screamed. He was chasing me now. I was so embarrassed I didn't know what to do. I ran as fast as I could to get away from him. At last, I reached a clearing.

I screamed. There was a massive object in the center. It was an icosahedron. I stared at the bright colors and whirling energy around it. Matthew came up behind me.

Josephine? What is this?!

I don't know.

Let's take it for a spin, shall we?

We both got inside and decided to enter the space mobile. As we entered the space mobile, time slowed down and stopped. We decided to make out here.

What's going on? Matthew said.

I have a problem with my mind! I screamed as loud as I could.

Suddenly, we decided to make out again! And again! And again!

WHAT'S GOING ON?!

I DON'T KNOW!!! I screamed and made out with Matthew over and over again.

We ran out of saliva and decided to call it quits. I was sitting back, trying to catch my breath when I caught Matthew giving me a funny look.

What are you doing? I asked him.

Making out with you with my mind.

AHHHHH!!!!! I screamed. DON'T DO THAT!!!

Suddenly, the icosahedron started spinning. We decided it was too much and wanted off, but there was no way out! We were trapped!!!

What a day! I screamed and gave him a blow job.

That's what I'm talking about! He yelled at the top of his lungs.

I stopped and the semen disintegrated in my mouth from the unusual barometric pressure. Suddenly, there was a flash and we were outside the icosahedron in a field with animals all around, both completely naked.

I'm worried, I told Matthew.

I'm not! he yelled.

We danced a dance of whimsy without making a sound in our minds, and then my parents found us alone and helpless. We got in the car and left, they gave us both a blanket to sit under and we were told a story of my little sister's dance recital. Afterward, we got out of the car and ate food at a diner before throwing up in the restroom. As we both sat in the same stall of the restroom, throwing up over the same toilet Matthew asked me if I was happy. I told him no. I will never be happy again.

And we never were.

When Food Stops Coming In

Go eat a sandwich, daughter, Beev told Rachel.

But I'm not hungry! Rachel screamed.

But you look hungry, my dear little bird, she said back in a tone of mopiness.

Rachel looked in the mirror. She looked healthy. Her body was devoid of nutrients, and her subconscious mind was unhappy. But consciously, she was elated to see how skinny she looked.

In the mirror, she did a dance. She liked to dance. She wanted to be a stripper, dancing on stage for money.

She went in the bedroom and started playing with her hair. She looked at the ragged split ends. She wanted to cut them off. She went and found scissors. It took a long time to find scissors while holding the split end. When she cut them off, she felt unhappy. This situation made her unhappy. No one notices split ends. She didn't notice them unless she looked. But she looked and saw them and needed to cut them off.

This went on for hours. After awhile, she started to feel less happy. The happy feeling in her mind was wearing off. She looked at herself in the mirror. She looked at her eyes. They looked unhappy and bleak. She felt unhappy and bleak. The Adderall was wearing off.

She went downstairs for a coffee drink to make herself feel better. When she got downstairs, she was confronted with a situation. There were people gathered there talking amongst themselves.

Rachel was wearing a short shirt and jeans that fit badly. She looked kind of skeletal in a fashionable way. She stared at the crowd of people.

Rachel, this is your new team of doctors. We are going to get you healthy again, her mom said to her. Rachel noticed her mom had tears in her eyes.

Beev, I'm fine! I could eat if I wanted to but I don't want to!

That's what they all say. Rachel, you're anorexic. This pains me so much to see my favorite daughter anorexic. But you are. And we are getting you the help you need.

Rachel was whisked away to the doctor's where she was probed with needles. Afterwards, the men in coats took her to a ward in the hospital. There were men there who were very skinny, and women too. Rachel did not fit right in. They had hair issues and body odor issues. Rachel did not.

Rachel was screaming on the inside. She was screaming, Where is my good friend Adderall? That would make this okay!

No Adderall anymore. Said a physician there. This is the ward for eating disorders. Only food.

Rachel screamed out loud. She was stuck in this place! What horror! She didn't care about eating, she had no negative connotations with food. But without Adderall, she would want to eat more and be unhappy because her mind wasn't flooded with endorphins.

She was lead in to therapy. A man ran it. He brought in a pizza. He gave everyone a slice and told them to take a bite.

Anorexics shivered and chewed and swallowed. Rachel did too. She liked pizza. When she was done with the slice, she asked for another one. They gave her two more. She ate them both.

Anorexics looked at her and shook their heads. We don't know what they were thinking.

After she was done eating they told her to wait for a sermon. She was told about the benefits of eating. She liked hearing things about the benefits of eating because the Adderall hadn't worn off yet. She felt happy thinking her body was happy from the food. She sighed with pleasure.

After they were done, they had to do an assignment. Write a story about what food does to your mind. It could be a fun story or a serious story. Rachel wrote about eating food while on Adderall. It usually makes you unhappy, not always. Usually you don't want to eat and feel kind of gross.

After she wrote the story, she decided to get some coffee. She walked to the nurse's station and grabbed a cup of joe. When she sipped deeply, she drank more. She wanted to drink more than anyone else in the ward. She wanted to be the best coffee drinker anywhere.

Gold star Rachel. Gold star.

When Icky People Fall in Love with People of Icky Descent

So what if I like him?! The girl screamed.

He's icky! Little Betty replied.

No he's not! Debi remarked viciously. She was mad. She liked Roy, but Roy didn't like her in that way. He just wanted someone to push him on the swings.

Why don't you go make out with Roy if he is so good looking! Betty yelled without making any sense to herself.

The truth was, Betty liked Roy too. When Roy looked at her, she melted with butterflies zinging her intestines. When she looked at Roy and he didn't look back, Betty was happy to stare at his brown eyes.

The two girls went home that night yelling at each other and making a fuss. When Betty got to school the next morning, Roy was there too.

Roy? Little Betty asked sheepishly.

What? Roy snarled with mean intentions. He thought Betty ate boogers when no one was looking. He thought that was gross to be 8 and still eat boogers. The two of them did not like each other. Why was she saying this to him?

I think I need to tell you something. Debi has a crush on you. She likes you in a weird way. I think that's disgusting. I thought you should do something mean to her to let her know you hate her.

Roy blushed. He blushed hard. This was the best thing ever. Debi was pretty for a young girl, and had lots of elated looks on her face from eating french fries in public sitting rooms.

I don't like her though! Roy screamed.

I know! Do tell her! She needs to know it's not going to happen between you two!

I will!

When Roy was sitting across the table from Debi, he looked at her face. It was dirty from eating chocolate. He told her a quite alarming tale. This was the tale.

I saw Batman eat a sandwich once. He was angry. When he ate it, the sandwich didn't get eaten, it disintegrated in his mouth and it looked like your face!

Debi smiled and wept on the inside.

Well? Roy asked. Do you eat sandwiches like Batman or not?

NO!!! Debi yelled.

I knew you were a bad girl, that's why I brought you another pair of scissors. The school stud boy Martin said to Debi.

What? She looked at Martin and was baffled. The boy was a mischief maker. Many a young girl fell in love. But Debi didn't. She looked down and he wasn't carrying any scissors.

I like you Debi. Will you have fun with me? Martin asked with a smile.

NO!!!! she screamed.

Whatever. Said Roy. He was mad. Do you need a frown removal device? She's not interested!

No way, said Martin. She is too young for me anyway. I found a girl in the sixth grade who gives many kisses at night!

No way! Said Roy.

Okay, Okay, okay. Debi told herself. Get lost, Martin! She screamed.

Martin left without a second sound. He was above rejection. He went outside and put a tack on his friends bike tire and left school to make out with a friend. On the way he fell down and started crying. There was a passerby who noticed and brought him to his home. When he got back to school the next day. Debi and Roy were looking at each other but not talking. They liked to look at each other but not talk.

Well? Martin asked Roy. Why don't you kiss her already?

NO!!! Roy yelled. EWWWW!!!

No way, Martin. Debi said. This guy needs great man hands to maneuver around your big ass!

No way you just said a no no word!!! Teacher! Teacher!

Debi looked back at Roy. She was staring with intense focus. Roy looked startled at her intense focus. When their eyes locked, they became entangled and a random spurt of empathy poured out and they understood each other.

I like you, Roy. Debi said.

I like you too, Debi. Roy screamed silently.

What?

I like you! He tried to yell, but instead just made a funny noise.

That's it! You're out of the classroom, Debi! The teacher yelled at her for using a no no word.

Debi left crying. The next day, Roy was eating a sandwich and she asked him for permission to eat part of it. He gave her the rest.

I like you, Debi. Roy said.

When Ritalin fails, Men Fall to their Knees with Pained Arthritis

What are you looking at? The hobo asked.

You. The man sneered.

What do you want? A fight? The hobo asked.

Not that. Your mind.

They stared deeply into each other's eyes. The hobo has just cracked a zinger. The joke was about two women who were molested, eating their own minds out with food. The zinger was impressively artistic for a hobo.

The hobo looked funny on the surface, but he had a heart of gold. His name was Melvin. He loved to eat food when it was time to eat, and not when it was not time to eat. He had to eat a lot to make up for being so hungry in the mind for fuel.

How about a piece of cheese? The man asked the hobo.

The hobo licked his lips hungrily. "That's happy."

What do you mean, that's happy? He asked the hobo.

I think cheese is a happy food. Like watermelon. Or pizza. Or cheesecake.

The man looked down the hobo's nose. What a mess. He smelled like urine and feces combined with robitusson, for he looked like he had been snorting a few lines of coke too.

What a mess, the man said. How about a bath???

The hobo perked up. He had been looking for a place to take a bath for over a month.

Well? The man said.

A shower. The hobo pierces his mouth with useless words to thank the man, but the man didn't care. He liked the hobo.

The hobo showered and sat down for a game of backgammon. After they tied three times, the man realized the wits were matched. He decided to play a game.

How many women do you want to have sex with at the same time? The man asked the hobo.

The hobo screeched and then stopped looking happy. Zero. He said sheepishly.

Why? The man asked madly. You're not one of those types, are you?

No! The hobo yelled without making a sound. He didn't want to admit he was a homosexual.

Well? The man said. Do you like men?

No, I like women. I just hate women at the same time so I don't want to sleep with any!

What?! The man screamed.

I don't like women. I'm a heterosexual in a male's body confounded by funny things that make me hate women, thus rendering me homosexual.

I hate men who love men, said the man.

I love men who hate men who love men, said the hobo.

What?! The man screamed.

I love you. The hobo screamed back.

No! OUT! The man yelled.

I have something for you first, the hobo said.

What is it? The man asked with curiosity.

A pretty lady in my back yard.

What? You have no backyard!

I do not, but I have a pretty lady for you.

The man watched his face. It bled with withered ugliness. He stared at his long nose, his mouth with cold sores, and pretty eyes. He looked like a darn funny guy to be messing around with a pretty lady in his pocket.

I know, you want a woman. Said the hobo. But you can't find yourself a woman so you came to me. I will tell you how to get women. It involves looking at yourself from a different perspective. Do you like to get laid? He asked the man.

Yes. but ain't no talking to a gay man about it!

I know, I'm gay. Get over it already. My wife is at home and she needs sex from a stranger. She sent me to find one. Do you want her?

The man smiled. Yes. I don't care what she looks like. She must have big looking boobs though.

I know. She has great massive hooters.

What else?

She is cute on the face, no wrinkles, pretty on the eyes, and ugly on the inside. She is mean and cowardly.

That ain't no problem! The man said.

I will find you a piece of her ass but first you need to do something for me.

What's that?

Tell me I'm ugly and mean it!

Why?!

Because I don't like any jibber jabber about how you think my face looks rugged.

I know, I know! You are hideous! Man, you are ugly as hell!

That's a good story, but do you mean it?

Yes, I mean it! I think you look awful!

Then here you go.  Here is my lady.

He took the man to his bunker in the middle of a industrial district. The women there were very hideous all around. They looked bad all over. The man got upset by the ugliness of the women and decided to have a cigarette. When they made it to the bunker, the woman was sitting in the middle of a bath tub all the way naked.

This is my daughter. Have your way with her.

This is your daughter? The man asked with shock.

Yes. In my wild days, I enjoyed the company of women. I found peace with this young daughter of mine back in the days when she found no hope with her mother. Her mother is a methhead like you.

I hate methheads! The woman screamed! Don't bring me a fucking methhead!

It's okay, sugar pie. I brought you an intellectual methhead. No ticks at all!

NO!! She screamed and made a fist. I hate methheads so much!

I know, I know. But this meth head will help you function like a lady.

Why do you think that is necessary? You are a man of great madness in the mind too! I like people who enjoy your company, if they are clean in the area of drugs!

Oh come off it, Sugar pie. You don't know how to function either without ritalin.

That's okay! I know what you are saying and it's wrong! I hate meth with a serious passion and it takes me two years of my life to understand why you still take me to the doctor to be prescribed ritalin!

You need it for your mother's sake! She made you a drug addict!

Why do you need me to take ritalin? It's awful! I hate the ticks! I hate the random mind problems it makes! I hate it! And I hate this man here! What is he doing? How much does he need that cigarette he is smoking?

That man is your new husband. That is all.

The Picture Looked Funny From A Distance But as You Get Closer It Disappears!

What a day! Randalph exclaimed.

Why? Rachel asked.

What's up with you, Rachel? Why are you acting so strange?

Who? Rachel said again. She looked down at her feet and giggled. Who?

Rachel, have you been in the CS again?

No, not at all! I ate little, drank more cough syrup, and pretended my life was over, over and over again. When I got to the end of that exercise, I gave up hope of life ever getting any better.

Rachel! That sounds like suicide talk! Do I need to tell Ingrid?

NO WAY! Rachel screamed. She liked the way he looked. He looked solid, like you could take a bite out of his arm and not pierce the skin at all. A word that described him was solid and voluptuously youthful. She wanted him now, but cough syrup prevents orgasms.

No way, Rachel! I know suicide talk! That's what I call a cry for help! Cough syrup, he said with a sneer. Rachel, I am disappointed in you. I thought I could trust you not to drink the CS again!

But I needed to escape the harsh realities of program life! Why don't you understand! I can't hear you anymore! The thoughts have started again!

Rachel, you're not going to start philosophizing again! You know that leads to existentialism!

I know not what you say, but I think your mind is made up of something called plasma. When two dots collide, neurons, they fire rapidly and cohesively to create that thought you're having. I think your thoughts intermingle with my thoughts, we could have a conversation. Would you? Would you have a conversation?

AHHHH!!! NO!!! CAN'T HEAR YOU!!! CAN'T HEAR YOU!!!

Rachel was surprised. Cough syrup generally didn't bring out philosophy in her. She looked at herself in the mirror. She was small and skinny from running and cough syrup afterwards. Her words tasted like food. She tasted them before they left her mouth. She felt like a food, like a sorbet. She smelled her hair and smelled enlightenment. Her time was coming.

She left the bathroom and walked outside the door. She looked at her mind in the mirror again and dazzled herself with what came out of it. Dots. She loved dots.

What a boy! Said Randalph's admirer Chelsea. She looked at Rachel and smiled. Hi Rachel!

That's not you! That's what I call a mischief making grin!

What's going on?

Trying to dazzle you!

That's not right. Have you been hitting the CS again Rachel?

Not really, no! However, I like the way you look in those pants, they bring out your mind.

Stop it, you are high! Why are you coming on to me?

Rachel giggled. No! I'm not coming on to you! I am just complimenting your features!

Spirit friends Collapse on Brethren's Door to Comfort Needy Babies With Sandwiches

So you think you can remove negativity from your mind. Can you?

That is a good question. I know. You can not, without the help of this special spirit aid. When you take the aid each week, it helps engulf the mind in satiety hormones. When the hormones engulf your mind each week, you stop thinking and making sense of your surroundings. After a while, you become flippant and give in to peer pressure.

What does peer pressure bring in terms of well-being? Hormones don't suffice to occupy the brain when we could be going for wild rides in the cars of passerby! Does that sound like fun?

Eat the bird sandwich, Rachel. It is time to refuel your brain for integration. This is a message from your prefrontal cortex telling you integration is taking place and your brain needs fuel.

After a hearty meal, she went to Mac's deli for a cool refreshing energy drink to ward off dark night of the soul. After she made her way, she listened to a song by the Beatles and listened hard. When she was done listening, she made her way back to the house to refuel her body's hormone count.

What are you doing, Rachel? Have you made way again with my toothbrush?

Yes, dear mum, yes. After we dally for a little while on the john, I will sing you another song and dance another dance of whimsy! Then, you will pass out and remove your brain's pretentious desires to have women of character leading lives of cat loving pretentious living!

Another thing, dear mum. I love you ever so much. I love you so much it hurts! Will you listen to a song and dance tonight while a hum a dilly on your toothbrush?

My mother was taken aback by excitement. Where did you get such a thing? She asked. I told her, the bottom of the sanity basket for ideas of reckoning with ghosts!

GHOSTS!!! AHHHHH!!! She fled.

I always knew she was a coward, so I sat on the john and hummed while plucking out my pubic hairs with her toothbrush. After I had finished, she waltzed right back in without knocking!

Are you serious? I screeched. I screeched through my lower intestinal sac and it burst. I was rushed to the appendix removal room where they told me my liver was broke.

I sat on the operation table and hummed while it was removed. Afterward, I died inside on the table and God spoke to me.

Rachel! RACHEL!!!!

God, stop it! Don't be weird! We are already friends!

I know, just being a doofus!

I like you, God.

I like you too, Rachel. Now, it's time for a predicament. To you really want to go back to your parent's house?

NO!!!!

Then live a different life, dipshit!

I can't!!!!

Okay, fine. I will do something to your brain to prevent it from going flip flop for awhile. This will not hurt at all.

God poked fun at me for my belly flab while he operated. I giggled.

What are you doing now? I thought you were done!

I'm just making way with this appendix operation team!

AHHH!!! AHHH!!! AHHH!!!

You are flipping them out! Stop it God! That's my life you're talking about!

OOHHH!!! AHHHH!! OOOHHH!!!

God, quit it! Quit it! Quit it! Stop it, you're killing me!

I can only kill you once and you're with me!!!

Flatline.

You made it!!!

Spirit friends abound Rachel as she approached the pearly white gates.

The Worst Emotions In Existence!

Today we are going to take some time out of the day to discuss a dark topic. Bad emotions.

What are bad emotions? We know bad emotions. They happen all the time. But what about inhumane emotions? Do they happen all the time? In the large scheme of things, yes. But not to you.

Let's discuss some of the major categories of fowl emotions. One of them is the feeling of being dissected alive by a mean person. This evokes a strong feeling of horror in the person who is being dissected. This is an awful, awful emotion and is not felt by animals at all! Not at all! But humans feel it, especially in the concentration camps in Europe. This feeling went all through out the camps all the time, the feeling of horror.

Another fowl emotion is the feeling of ingesting a fowl substance, like gasoline. This is a fowl emotion indeed. It makes you feel grody and gross and horrible in a way that nothing else does. Why does this emotion happen? To alert you not to eat this substance! This feeling is awful and is inhumane, meaning spirits don't thing anyone should ever feel this way. However, they do.

Why do they feel this way ever? Because it helps with some soul's spiritual growth! When some souls feel fowl emotions such as these, they grow in a way no one else can help because they are growing! These are tough growth souls. They think in retrospect that they should not have eaten that, but enjoy the growth that comes from it!

Another on of the horrible emotions is the feeling of misery that comes with a blood bath! This is a horrible emotion indeed! When does it happen? Lots of times! Usually at war, people will engage in combat and feel the wrath of strangers as their bullets pierce their skin! This is how weird emotions intermingle with the feeling of horror that comes from being part of an awful situation induced by death! Being face to face with death evokes awful emotions that don't come out at any other time. That's why, I enjoy not knowing how bad Earth dynamics intermingle with the soul growth spectrum to understand that this means life or death to the soul growth continuum! Woohoo!

Another irksome emotion is fear. This is an awful emotion when drowned in excess. When we have nightmares, we become engulfed by fear. When we wake up, we turn on the lights so we can see properly! Not at all? Not at all? No, not at all!

What a girl! This is the last one! The worst one is pain. Some weirdos think pain isn't that big of a deal, but I say, you have never been burned to death! What a situation of horror! The pain is unbearable, and your pain level is through the roof! Why is such an irksome emotion in existence? To enhance spiritual growth! There are tough growth souls who thrive in a spiritual fashion by going through lots and lots of pain! That's why they get burned to death lifetime after lifetime!

That's it. That's all. That's it.

Spirit vs. Brain Functioning: Why the Girl In the Mirror Always Smiles

What is the spirit? Does it hold information? Does it do things? What does the spirit do?

My spirit is named Rachel. She lives inside a body full of chemicals. When she wakes up, she washes her clothing off and makes way. That is what Rachel does.

What is her name on the other side? Not Salioness, something outside the realm of modern day thought. Something along the lines of a noise made between the head and the body of armor. That is the name of Rachel's spirit.

What does her spirit do on Earth? It makes decisions. It can look at a situation and make decisions based on the information presented. On some levels, Rachel makes good decisions on a regular basis. On others, they are not all that well thought out. This is because they are subconscious decisions that effect her body and her mind cohesively. Another thing about the subconscious mind is, there are many tiers. On the conscious level, she makes decisions about food and beverages. On a semi-conscious level, she makes decisions about people she likes and doesn't like. On a subconscious level up there near the surface, she makes friends with herself and makes herself feel welcome in her body. Another level up there, she knows things that are going to happen before they happen. On a level far enough down not to disrupt the thoughts up there, she talks to her friends on the spiritual plane. Then, she has conversations with her spirit guides on another mysterious level.

Then, she has a body made of iron. When she walks to buy an energy drink, she converses with herself about which one to buy. I always say, buy the best one for your body at the time. But she always does! What a trip!

When we are at home, we watch televisions. We have nothing to watch! Rachel wants to watch the Big Bang Theory, but I want to watch CNN. Then, she compromises by watching Fox News. When I watch Bill O'Reilly, I think about how much he knows what he's talking about.

What else goes on in the subconscious mind? Things like, money decisions. When Rachel is hungry, she eats food. When she is thirsty, she drinks water. When she needs nicotine, she chews a piece of nicotine gum. When will it end? She never needs anything like Adderall anymore! That's because the energy problem is fixed, and her body feels whole again! Yippee! Praise my guides!

Another thing about the spiritual side of the body is that it does not always take a team to fix a problem. When the body needs alignment, we go to tai chi. That's a joke, my mom things tai chi is for alignment. When her energy needs strengthening, tai chi is the place to go! When she goes to tai chi, she does it for long enough to wear down the energy a little bit at a time, so it will rebuild stronger and healthier. If she does it too much time at once, she will feel like a dead bunny afterwards for quite a long time.

One more thing. This is the important thing. Talking in the mirror improves charisma, and so does talking to oneself. Rachel talks to herself to pretend she is a good man woman thing without body and work on the movement between system one three eight and then she looks at herself and smiles because she made the proper motion and said the proper line to the proper person without removing her body from the situations, she removed her mind! What a girl!

Gender Neutrality: Crazy Hybrid Breed of Ignorance

What a show. When men decide they are men, the world rejoices. When women decide they are not women, people wonder. But when one woman decides she is neither, she is seen as an idol.

Who are these people? Where do they live? Why is it so focusing to think of gender as something you can change at a whim? Why does it matter if you are seen as masculine or feminine, or even possessing of a penis or a vagina? Why do you have to redefine it?

I know why this happened. I will explain. It started with a woman. She was 8 years old. She grew up not to think very highly of other women, and she thought makeup was stupid. She did not want to wear makeup. Then she decided, hey, I'm not very feminine at all! I don't like makeup, I don't like hair stuff, I like short hair and bobs. I like no makeup, I like style not at all unless it involves baggy sweat pants, and I am a loser at heart. Why not just identify as neither? I'm not very feminine! Sure, I do things like emote constantly, believe in horoscopes, eat too much chocolate, and think about my feelings and stuff. But I don't like makeup, therefore I am not a woman.

So she thinks to herself, I get along better with men. That's what they all think. They think, I get along better with men. Why am I made to use a public restroom designed for women putting on makeup? I should have my own special restroom! Therefore, there will be no line!

Then, she decides to butcher the English language. She would rather not be called she, but rather, ze. Ze did zer clothing. Ze love zer dog. This is easy! She thinks to herself while thinking it slowly. Everyone should call me ze instead of she! I mean, it's more appropriate, it doesn't offend me in a certain very subtle way to think of myself as a woman, which I clearly am not. I am a whole new transmogrified breed!

Then, people look startled when she asks them to address her as ze. She gets mad, saying it's easy, if you think it's hard for you, think how hard it must be for me to ask every single person to say this! It's so hard, it makes my eyes bleed. So give me a break. You are done. Bye.

What I think is, there is nothing of the sort. There is no such thing as neuter gender. There is no such thing as in between. There is a such thing as a hermaphrodite and that's as close as they come. Hermaphrodites usually identify as one gender or the other, and not both at the same time.

I think they should give it up. You are fooling no one. Just because you don't think you are feminine, doesn't mean you get to redefine the human race. Are you a man? That's something different. I respect the idea of transexuals because it is a real biological problem, where a person feels they have been born into the wrong body gender wise. There is no such thing as no gender. There is no such thing. There are people who don't exhibit lots of feminine or masculine traits despite being a woman or man. This is normal. You have to live with your gender. You don't have to go out of your way to fulfill society's requirements for how a man or woman should look or act. That means you are thinking like a real person. But don't go so far as to say, I'm neutral. That's dumb.

Seriously, being gender neutral is dumb. That is all.

Tango: The Dance of Mad Men

So you think you can tango. What does that mean to you? I think it means nothing at all! You know little about tango, and dancing in general. Who will dance with me? Is it God? Or is it my womanhood?

Where do the men live? Are they ready to tango? Do you understand what tango means to me? Are you ready to tango with the mad men named happy? This is good for your mind, when things happen to the body. But when body happens to the mind, beware. Elvis is here.

When my womanhood lives without tango, she resides in the womb cortex of the brain. When she tangos, it livens her spirit. Why do we not tango? It's an excellent way of knowing each other! We know things about ourselves that we can't get across in dance, so tango will not cut it. We need heartfelt conversations.

Where do you listen to the right music? Is it in the mad man cortex of the brain? But that's each other's love of life, do not listen to the mad men inside your mind telling you it's done. Your life isn't done. It's just begun.

When do the men live outside of the realm of fantasy? Where do they take charge of each other and remove their mouths from the womb of death? Remove yourself from this integritous situation, it's okay never to speak of your mind in a horrible fashion again, Rachel.

May I Suggest the Hospital?

Where do you go when your home is death? I don't know.

I hate my house very much. I hate the people who live here. I am so fucking sick of this place. I am ready to move out with anyone who offers to move me in. I am so sick of this dumbfuck house, with the dumbfuck parents and their dumbfuck medication.

It's a sad story, really. They don't know what's going on with me. So they assume the answer is more medication. Always the medication. It's sad really, how they think that's the only thing they have that will make me a good person. Another thing that's sad is when they get mad at me for talking to myself. I use speech to channel. I can't channel without talking out loud. I am always channeling. No Beev, the delusion didn't go away. I channel.

I hate my mother very much. She is the bane of existence. She is ugly on the inside. I think she needs to learn that medication doesn't help things as much as free enterprise. Another that doesn't help is lithium. Lithium is bad for my body when it is going through the recovery process. I will not elaborate.

Don't worry about me. The weirdest thing happened that I can't tell anyone about. No one wants to hear it, except the parents, and when they do hear it, we live it out with more hospitalizations and medications. My parents are sad individuals with underdeveloped souls. They think they care, but really, they just want me on more medication. The more medication the better.

I think it is time for a move. They will not agree and say they want me to be stable before I move. I think that is dumb. I am doing fine. I walk around the house and pace and they see that as a relapse.

Whenever I listen to my music, I feel like moving. I think it is okay to pace instead of going for a late night walk. A late night walk is bad for my body when it is going through the recovery process. Another thing that's bad for my body is sex. I think I don't need any sex.

Another thing that is good about Erik Wilson is that he is my best friend. I love him very much. I will join Scientology if this continues. I am very intrigued by its principles and love it very much. I think Scientology could help my issues better than medication. I think Erik and his family are great people.

Another thing about what I am going through is that this is the worst thing that has ever happened to me, but I will be a stronger person in the long run because of it. My brain is processing the incidents, and makings sense of them. It is a long and harrowing process. Another thing about Erik Wilson is that he is a great man with brains. He knows how to use his brains. Another thing about Erik Wilson is that he is my best friend by far.

I think my parents are control freaks. They see one toe out of line and think hospital! The other day I was threatened with the hospital for not unloading the dishwasher. I asked him why he thought that was necessary. He said it was because I was slipping, my room was a mess and I was talking to myself. I wondered about his room. It's a mess too. He sleeps a lot and eats a lot of food, lots of bad food. He looks funny and says mean things all the time. He often does not unload the dishwasher himself. I think a hospital visit is in order.

Another thing that my mom said was an issue was that I was getting fat. She said this a long time ago because I was eating more food. She thinks this is grounds for going to the hospital. I wondered about this, because every time I go to the hospital I gain weight. Another thing about my mom is she is scared and frightened all the time. She needs to go to the hospital.

Happy Endings: A Work of Fiction

Something happened to you. What is it?

I like men now.

What does that mean?

I have a crush on Ronald Reagan.

I understand your problem, the therapist said to me.

I was told to go home now. I would receive my medication in the mail. I waited, and waited, and finally, it arrived. When it arrived, I watched as the medication became part of my body, and decided to eat paper. When I was done eating paper, I turned to ruminating on the past. When I was done ruminating on the past, I thought it was okay to eat some more paper. When I was done ruminating and eating paper, I became accustomed to loving my dog.

I went to the therapist again.

What happened? she asked.

I had sex with a dog. It was barking awesome. I looked at her and grinned.

When did this happen?

Yesterday evening before bedtime. Afterwards, I ate paper. It was gross but satisfying.

When will you learn the answer is medication? She asked.

I understand your issue, but I think the medication has some gnarly side effects.

Okay, let's try a different one on top of this one to get rid of sexual impulses.

I waited again to receive the medication in the male. I thought it was fun to make due with my body by orgasming on top of the kitchen counter. When I was done doing that, I got up and went to the mailbox. Three tablets of risperdal. I took them and was elated. The urges were gone!

I went into the kitchen and ate some more paper. This time I used my body to work on a problem I was having. My body was becoming one with the pavement again and again. So I decided to make more pavement in my mind to balance it out. As I was making pavement in my mind, the timer went off. Not knowing what was going on, I ducked. It was coming right for me! I looked up, and there it was. A piece of paper. I got out a sheet of notebook paper to eat, and ate all the paper in sight. Then, the medication took effect. I started eating melon. I thought melon was good, until I looked and saw my hands starting to bleed. As I looked at the blood, I melted into the floor. It was full of tiny holes. All these holes, all the places where the blood was missing. I became really enamored by the holes and imagined a girl full of holes, and wanted to screw each hole simultaneously with large little dicks. If this were a real girl, she would get upset. But this was a fake girl and she liked it. Then, the timer went off again. I realized that it was time for a nap. The medication was making me feel like I had a problem with my antelope reflex, and killed a dog in my sleep again and again. Afterwards, I went over to the counter to eat some more melon. We were not going to go to the store yet even if out of melon. It was time for a dose of risperdal. I took the risperdal and waited. It took a long time to take effect, and then I saw a few more holes I wanted to screw. Afterwards, I took another long napped and killed 8 more dogs. Then I went to the puppy shop to buy more dogs. I actually went in real life. After I was done buying dogs, I went home and wept. I wept because I had forgotten who I Really was. I wanted a dog, not a basket of puppies. But the puppies had no homes! I thought it was sad that so many puppies had no homes. I decided to make out with the puppies, but they bit my tongue and didn't use the right technique. Afterwards, I went down to the kitchen and ate some more melon. Then, it was time for a nap. I drank some cola and sat up. No more naps. I needed some drugs. 

I went back to the therapist.

Try adder all, she said.

I got to the mailbox and there was a five day supply of adder all. I went inside and took a couple more than were prescribed to make myself feel lighter. When the medication took effect, I looked down at my hands. They were full of hard ons. I decided to kill the hard ons with scissors. I thought it would be fun to eat the hard ons too, so I did that. Then, it was time for another dose of risperdal. I gladly downed the entire bottle, then stared at the kitchen counter. It was easy to remove my mind from the situation, but hard to make out with the counter in a clearly effervescent fashion. I needed more Adderall. I looked at my shoes and they had spots. They needed help. I decided that dogs had more spots than my shoes did so it was fine. I had fun with the puppies legs. They were all wiggly and made me giggly. I thought that was a funny choice of words. Then, a dog barked outside and they all growled. I thought it was cool when they growled. I made a growling noise myself but that made them all whimper. After that, I ate a bucket of koolaid and ate a picture of my mom. I remembered how much I hated her. She loved me so much because I was different. I remembered how much I hated her because she was weird. I brought home a picture of her one day and made a skull on it to symbolize how much I wanted her dead. That was when the timer rang again. This was nap time. I did not want there to be a nap time. There was no more Adderall. I decided to make some adder all. I got out the methlymanine and made Adderall. This home made speed did the trick. I bought five more puppies, killed them with kind words, and went back to the therapist. She admitted me to the hospital. I was shot up five times in the rear end with haldol. It made me nauseous. I screamed and she shot me up again. Each time I screamed I got another shot. It took five hours to subdue me plus many men. Afterwards, I ate soap. No one told me to I thought it was a good idea. After that, I looked at the woman in the face and ate a piece of cheese. She screamed and told me to quiet down. After that, I looked at her and made a face. She screamed and told me I needed another shot. After one more shot, I went to the ICU. They pumped my stomach for no reason. Then I went to the other side and met God. He told me I had a place in the world. It was a place to get rid of people like my mom. He told me it was okay to make faces at hospital staff it was funny. Then, I looked at the hospital staff and looked down. She was making a chart of my faces. They all looked bad. I told her to make a chart of happy things like clowns. She did not. She told me I needed another dose of haldol. I got another shot and slept for another five hours. They told me I was going to another hospital because I was out of whack in the chemical department. All the drugs were causing damage. After I got back, I went home and ate paper and drew a happy star on my forehead to symbolize a star student in the game of life.

Parables, Parables!

There was a hobo named Ollie. He enjoyed things of a hobo nature, like fight-picking, and eating beans. One day, he looked in a mirror, and saw his face. It has a scar on his right cheek. He told everyone, hey, I have a scar on my left cheek, but now it looks like it has migrated. He decided not to tell anyone anymore, because they all scoffed at his migration ideas. When he got home, he told his husband. He told him, you are not a boy. You are a man. Here, eat some dog testicles, and tell me what you really think. Did the scar migrate? Or are you not used to seeing your reflection? He undressed his clothes, and they enjoyed each other. The next day, the man without the scar got up, and left. And never came back.

The reason the man left, was because the hobo was so narrow-minded, he did not understand how badly his ideas sounded to others when he spoke them out loud. When he still did not understand why the scar was on his right cheek, the man left, because he knew if he could not understand why the scar was not where he thought it was, he would never get anywhere with his other ideas.

How about a good body rub? No, not a sexual body rub... a massage. We can take off your clothes, rub your body in lotion, and we will have a good idea of how often you need to wear your items in the sink.

When the man took off his clothes, he was seen naked by many a person. At the same instant, someone took a camera and snapped a picture. What is that idea on your leg? A poem? A bracelet? No, it is a symbol meaning we don't like the idea of mean-spiritedness towards men. When you look at it from one direction, it says, freedom for men. From the other, it means, male superiority. From another, it means, we hate women. Then, if you look at it upside down, from my angle, it means, happy life with a woman.

The items in the sink represent ideas of how often you need to perform good fun religious rituals. It is a massage of religious assessment. The reason everyone is watching is because everyone wants to see how often this man needs to, because he is a man of great prestige.

The items in the sink represent ideas of how often you need to perform good fun religious rituals. It is a massage of religious assessment. The reason everyone is watching is because everyone wants to see how often this man needs to, because he is a man of great prestige.

The man told her, I am a man of simple needs. None of this, I will astound you with my wit, man. Or, I will entice you with seduction, woman. I believe in free enterprise, love of woman, and sodomy on Sundays. Not sodomy, oral sex. Yes, oral sex. So, when I tell a woman, let's believe in the power of the Holy Ghost, she will tell me, no man, I am a woman who believes in equal pay, equal rights, and equal participation in child rearing. But I say, no woman, you believe in fornication, because you can't admit that my job pays more than yours. Then, you will understand that I am not what you want me to be, I am a man of destitute, laundering of the nether regions, and polygamy in the name of the lord. Yes, polygamy!

And at that, the woman fondled, her breast, and they made sweet, sweet love by candle light.

A woman once had a lotion and a perfume. She became addicted to the smell. One day, she decided to enamore herself with more than 8 ounces of perfume at the same time. She became addicted to smelling herself. And then, she bought the perfume off the shelf, and it didn't smell the same anymore. She became sad, tied a rope around her neck and hung herself.

This represents drug addictedness. After awhile, you do not become enamored by the same chemicals over and over and over again. The familiar comfort is no longer there. She became one with the idea of having the smell on her nose, and longed for something even deeper, that the perfume could not provide. These things are full of death smells, and longing to smell a perfume is akin to the sweet hum of the neurotransmitter dopamine swimming through the brain things. That is all.

Here is a dog. Don't believe in the dog. If you believe in the dog, it disappears. If you see the dog, it exists. If you believe the dog to be fake, it ripens. If you touch the dog, you become part of it's essence.

 Whatever you do, don't touch the dog.

The dog represents love of spirituality. If you believe in the correctness of your ideas, which are mutually exclusive with other peoples' you are not a good person. If you understand spirituality, it does not bother your senses to understand the other parts of life. If you believe spirituality is fake, you are at the mercy of your own mortality. But if you become one with spirituality, you do not understand what is going on anymore because you have entered and existential crisis. Don't go there, pretentious folk.

Parables Out the Wazzoo!!

The woman in red was a woman of great influence. When she stood up in front of people, they bowed their heads in silent agreement of what she had to say. One day, she was out walking, and a man knocked her unconscious with a cain. He stole her identity, and went off preaching a different story, one of heart ache, good but feeble intentions, and withered ideas of successful people. When she got back up, the world had turned against her, and she was now a wanted felon. When she took off her cloak, and resigned her duties as public speaker, she was no longer regarded as helpful, but rather, someone to be forgotten.

In this parable, the woman in red is not Jesus, but represents people who preach the message of Jesus. The man who takes her identity represents people and organizations such as the Westboro Baptist Church, who twist the message to mean something else. The damage that is done is widespread, horrible, and unforgivable.



There was a man names Elvis. He lived by the sea. One day, Elvis became enamored by a woman named Ramona. When they laid eyes on each other, each of their faces became entangled, and they could not untangle them without the help of a she wolf. When the she wolf looked at both of their faces entangled, it snorted, and coughed up a fish. The fish looked down at the ground, and became one with the two lover's mouths. This created a horrible menacing growl, and the girl became enamored by the fish. When the fish saw that the girl was enamored by her, it snortled, and became one with her mind. The two lovers parted ways, and the woman and the fish were united for all time.

The man and woman represent Adam and Eve. They are not fond of looking at each other, because they are endowed with quick slut like actions. When they become entangled, they have to get away with a man of great primordial instincts, to understand how to quickly disavow the idea of intercourse. When the wolf coughs up a fish, it becomes one with the two lover's mouths, keeping their conversation religious. When the woman becomes enamored by the fish, she enjoys the idea of life without her partner, because she is the one who is going to create a world of life. Not physical, spiritual. Because the woman is the one who rises up and kills the entire world. Just kidding. Just kidding.

Time for a Thanksgiving parable.

Three men ate Thanksgiving dinner together every year. One year, the man in a dark fierce coat forgot the cheese dip. The two others stared blankly at him, and then one asked for a number to call a lawyer. They stared blankly at that one for a few seconds, and then the third man started a fist brawl. The cheese dip man left without a scratch. The lawyer man left with a black eye, and the fist brawl man became pregnant with a miscarriage.

This dinner represents Thanksgiving. When the third man left pregnant, he was full of ideas of hatred, because he was giving birth to a baby of revenge. The man wanted his lawyer, because the cheese dip represented willingness to understand each other, and without willingness to understand each other, there is no ideas of peace. The lawyer man did not understand what was going on, so he wanted a lawyer to clarify the situation.

Here is a good parable for those who enjoy clusterfucks.

I was walking along side a girl. Her name was Ebony. She enjoyed things of a friendly nature with fairies. I told her her ideas of love were destitute, and believed her to be a woman of fun with money only, because I thought she was full of shit. The next weekend, I became one with a magic wand, and took it outside. I sprinkled pixie dust on the flowers, and the grew into very large wonky things. I screamed, screamed, and screamed, until I could scream no more.

This is a parable about making friends. If you piss off the people who hold the power, they will come back and haunt you with their minds. It happens to those who believe in nothing but death, and taxes.