The New Reality - Letter to home
Oh how could they, destroy that beautiful place inside our minds?
Deep moonlit scapes, wonderous pool under the waterfall.
I was sitting in a chair, mindless and speechless, a husk of my former self, staring at the four walls.
You were gone.
You have been gone more than ten years.
Or so they tell me.
I don't remember anymore.
The medications make it all surreal, a dream, if I remembered it, I might kill myself.
Sickness in a mind, reports say, I could be quite sane and it is the rest of the world that's mad.
I try to tell the doctors here that.
Maybe they are the sociopyschotic mad men in their deep starched white coats meandering room to room looking for something to cure their sickness, writting it down on their clipboards.
Angry suicidal, homicidal, I have become, or would, if the medications wouldn't step in and protect the idiots at the supermarket.
Blocking the aisles, chattering like rats over some dead issue, tissues?
Who cares.
I just want my box of cereal.
Toasty oats.
With raisins.
Anyways, tomorrow, if I'm good, the nurses say I can have two cookies with my apple juice.
Anyways, good night Mom, I'll write more later, I love you,
Your son,
George
