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.