Where Have All The Flowers And Good People Gone
So here I am getting around to writing once again, it has been a bit since I wrote but I have had a lot to think about. As to the title to this blog posting, I am starting to wonder about people in general, the hospital staff I deal with on the ward, do not seem to get the message that there is nothing wrong with me and they are in denial about the radio and TV presence I have with Reporters and DJs mentioning parts of my life along with their desire to interview me as an individual and Artist that has been through the mental health system. A Reporter did an article on me in the past and I intend to have future interviews with the media, it is like it is hospital policy to be in denial and screw people over with their corruption.

Society have a lot to be desired when a hospital ward becomes a prison full of lies, with floor staff bowing down to corruption, it is through out the hospital then because staff members float between floors and the young Nurses in training are taught to be corrupt at the grass root level during their stage at the hospital.

Just last night as an example, the DJ on the radio station I listen to, was talking about the period in life when I stood up for the National Building Code against gyprock over plaster installations when my ex girl friend's family did it in a building here in Montreal. Due to me finding problems with them doing this type of work they found nothing but problems with me and my work and had me hospitalized on numerous occasions to get out of the way.Psychiatrists could not even fathom the engineering logic about this issue and I ended up on disability pension from being heavily medicated and not properly treated for the ensuing side effects as a way to shut me up when I mouthed off about a criminal act in renovations.

At least now some Psych ward Staff Members have a way of revealing truths to me about my case story along with certain fellow patients. I do not always have my tablet for it is locked in my locker so I do not get to up date postings as often.

After 28 years as an inpatient outpatient there has alwys been a lot to write about. In finally finding a close for this post, I will put it this way,just because a Doctor is a Doctor of Medicine, it does not make them the all knowing God that some of them think they are in the likes of psychiatry. In every profession in the world there are practicing idiots, just like in psychiatry. It is like after all these years I have no ability to judge a my Psyciatrist's capabilities when they are much less than perfect. It is like what makes a Psychiatrist, were their parents control freaks and the then to become freak child wanted to control the mind of others because he had no control of their own youth. In the Courts only a Psychiatrist can judge my character, no one else can which is a crock of shit, I can judge character but not fit to for the Courts due to the stigma of psychiatry. It is always "he is a very good Doctor"but probable that other Doctors will say the truth about idiot Doctors at a party amoung themselves under alcohol. I can certainly judge an idiot Psychiatrist like I have now,I am not the only patient that has a bitter distaste for him!

Derived from Romans (12:9)
Let medicine be without hypcrisy, abhor what is false medical practice. Cling to what is good medical practice.

The Nerve Center Of Creative Out Put While In Hospital,The Radio Keeps Me Company When There Is No One

So here I sit on another long weekend Monday once again making a blog posting. Thank God for the Tablet and the wifi on the hospital ward, it is a real God sent for having something to do while in hospital. Mum is just about the only person I have, she comes and visits every now and again and brings me what I need to survive on a hospital ward. With the radio in my room I get to interact with the radio station that I listen to, via email. I do not have people to email on any sort of email list or any thing, I never did quiet succeed at a social life. Some people seem to have more problems than me and when I size them up I find they are not worth dealing with. It is like all the good decent people my age are married with children and run their own lives between work and family.
I do my art and play my lute at my hospital bed side and get off the ward six times a day for my cigarette and buying coffee. If the face of the world blew up tomorrow for some strange reason and there was no one left on the planet but me, it would be like my normal lonely life. What a way to put it, so I do my own thing locked away in hospital. I get into reading philosophy on the Internet, as well as what ever scriptures I to turn to absorb thus stimulating my personal growth. I am getting kind of short of things to write, I will have to reflect for a bit and it is near lunch time any way.
So here I am back at the key board trying to make sense of my life, I could alone in my corner in my own apartment as much as I sit alone in my own corner of the hospital. One gets to here the rumours that float around the hospital when they go for coffee and a cigarette like I just did. Sure I get a few words into people when I go buy my coffee like I get a few words into people when I go buy my beer when I am out of hospital. I have no one to get me art supplies so I use them sparingly. It is like I emailed the DJ at the radio station, what am I suppose to do with the art I do create and put together and it is like I am playing my lute for my self as well. I never did really work with another Musician except in the hospital music therapy group, which is a complication within its self due to the jealous comments from other participators. They all can work hard at the creative arts like I did over the years, but it is easier for them to make a lude comments over what I produce in music group by using one or several of the array of instruments at hand. Sometimes it is easier on one to sit in their corner dreaming of having a woman in their life to create art for than to listen to the stupidity of others. Either way it is like a no win situation with how I get slandered through the petty jealousy of others and how can one meet a decent woman around the age of 53 when they are all married off planning for retirement in the next 12 years. That brings this blog posting to a close this time around until I figure what to write next time around.