these are my toughts after 2 days… no. 3 days. I got out of psychiatric prison on Saturday. today is Tuesday. well… the time in between.
I don’t know if calling it ‘psychiatric prison’. thing is I was there… I was forced to be there. ok, maybe enough that topic.
am in the city now. and with this little device. (my back aches a bit currently.) I write because of its healing powers. because is expressing-expression-speech. freedom of it.
I notice the city. how sex, money, drugs are present. that’s different from being secluded… in some kind of ward… or… I dunno. when one is secluded, away in some kind of ‘retire’… away from direct access to the internet then there’s no. ugh
this is my public journaling. and that sex, money, drugs that I notice in the city but not in prison (or maybe a very very little form of them along with maybe power and gossip) I turn it into making love, prosperity (or saving money), habits. that power thingy maybe turn it into dreams.
and this little device… maybe take breaks away from it.
meanwhile my back still hurts. bye