Monday, April 2, 2012


I was informed this week by my classmates that we had a book report due.

Cool. Backwards. But you get the point.

Or do you?

I hate reading. Reading is informative.

And I don't like being informed.

Especially when the book is about mental illness. And shares individual stories of people and how they went totally nuts thinking people where following them and the CIA was sending them secret messages. I had no idea this was like...a real thing. Like I said. Let me live naive. In this situation especially. Because now... I feel very unsure of myself.

Most examples in the book began their mental health battles in their early 20's. Which is not an uncommon age for schizophrenia, bipolar disorder, ect. to surface.


Driving home from work last night, I'm pretty sure I saw a furry mountain goat in the road. Hallucination? Or maybe a government spy?

Last night I turned the lights off and went to climb into bed when I saw a tall skinny shape in my window. Curtains? Or maybe a government spy?

In the middle of the night I woke up to scratching. On our head board. I looked around but I couldn't see anyone scratching our head board. I'm now fairly certain it was a government spy. A mountain goat government spy that happens to be tall and skinny and have fingernails. Trying to send me a secret code that only I could understand.

I have to go finish reading my book now. But I'm scared to. Because there is probably a hidden code in there for me. That only I can understand. And then the safety of the world is going to rest in my hands.

Yo. This is the real deal. Not a face-in-holed, face-in-holed
picture of a mountain goat with fingernails following me.

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