Let’s go here…
I went through some of the most painful experiences (paranoia is very painful) in my life in England on a layaway then a psych ward (inpatient of course). I was not too old, late 20s. I was detained, basically. And they kept me in the ward, and it was so painful I don’t even know how to “come to terms with it” or so they say.
The cars. I walked on the sidewalk. The incoming cars looked at me. It hurt.
I need to learn to describe magnitude of pain if I want to have a hope of striving to describe how powerful this all was. How powerful the enemy was. I think they’re still at large. I don’t know who it was. It was every citizen of England. What a terrorist den. Wow. That country. Not very civil. They did not welcome me with warm arms. They tortured me. And gas lit me. And detained me. An American citizen. For no reason in particular. I guess I was drunk at the airport.
I want this to be in a regional history book or something, but I don’t know how to achieve that. We’ll figure it out. We’ll figure it out.
And the Tesco’s. Walking there. The strangers. And death. They, the strangers, who saw me. Something was wrong.
Wow. I don’t know. How?