It is hard to write, while having bouts of extrapyramidal side effects. They come and go, long term use of antipsychotics as I have stated before.
Where do I start writing about the three faces of me in a snakey life, starting from the cold war, as depicted in the image below. Then again, each face has a woman that got me arrested, ironically the work of art was done after my second arrested over a woman that abused her position of power and the media over me, women have ruined my life in pursuit of one to breed with as a schizo! These works are part of my art collection while held for psychiatric evaluation for the Courts in such a prison here in Montreal Canada.
Still trying to find one in the many faces of a woman!
This next piece of art was done when hospitalized last on a Court order implemented from an arrest warrant, for a stupid common Freudian slip of the tongue to a female Psychiatrist about hanging, I only hung myself at a schizo chopping block, as shown in the second piece, I still have to put the ink to it here at home, from doing the original in hospital. This time being screwed over by a third female arrest.
My Father Always Said I Was Barking Up The Wrong Tree, Can I Ever!
I was always nothing but a hound dog sniffing out bullshit for the RCMP, CSIS, SQ and what not and what not. it started way back during the cold war. With a Gazette customer as a child that I made confession too, about booze and drugs in the high school and admitting I was part of it with my Gazette route earnings, then he showed me his SQ uniform. Then I remember, when as a minor working my Gazette route, I got invited into a customer's home and served up a beer, when she touch me I downed the beer and said bye. Walking out of the apartment complex I ran into a Police car waiting. I explained what happened, pronouncing "you can smell the beer on my breath". That is the start of my suds and rat story!
How do I rat out the injustices of mental health, with a background check nobody will touch me with a ten ten foot pole. So I sit in anger, pissed off what women and Psychiatrists did to me, totally uncalled for bull shit, my life sucks!!! I am just another social insurance number in the mental health system with a bad rap sheet because of the media and women. The rap sheet and all does not portray me in the true light of my being, a shy and timid good looking male that is an innocent victim of a corrupt justice system that can not even ask themselves, "What is truth around this wee guy?". One is guilty from the start, and never given a chance. Everyone around me makes money off the skin of my back, Psychiatrist, Social Worker, Nurses, Lawyers and their Tribunal staff, Politicians, the media, and blackmail still floats around me for standing up for the National Building Code against gyprock over plaster. It never went away, while I am left to fend for myself against the stupid rap sheet that is unjust, a basic character assasination by the Courts and Psychiatrists, in a supposed fair and just society, which Canadian society is not. Psychiatry says I hallucinate the media, which I do not, that is why there was two out of three arrests, but all arrests were done by females and the Courts . I have to admit, psychiatry will not change my record, Psychiatrists stick together like glue and will not challenge what past Psychiatrists have done to me in Court and writings on my psychiatric file. I was born and educated here in Canada and want a way out, but there is none! Once a schizo, always a schizo, and treated as such instead of like a person!
I sit here alone with no one one to talk to or email like usual, the lonely schizo life while being emotionally distraught, fear of growing old alone like the rest of my dumb life. Loneliness can be a killer in the heart, the need and want of a woman in my life is ever present, specially where I have no family to speak of. I ask myself over and over again, "where did I go wrong in life?" Always barking up the wrong tree looking for love, to feel a woman's passion like never before, well I never have felt a woman's passion for me, scared it will never happen, it is like I am too much of damaged goods being schizo. The love songs on the radio are like stabbing pains in the heart, reflections of yesterday and past relationships, three dumb times of getting involved with the wrong women, two with mental health consumers like myself, and one with a nut that did not stand by me, when I was standing up for the National Building Code against gyprock over plaster installations. These relationships led to two abortions force by me over gold digging women, and one hit with a swimmer in the fallopian tubes that called for a stupid operation at taxpayer expense. I learned about a woman's period the hard way, no pun intended. Due to all this I have not touched a woman in eighteen years, but some have touched my heart in a special way, being too shy and timid on my part, nothing came about from it all. Knowing I can walk down the garden path looking for love the wrong way, being in poverty I never met an established woman that had the need for a man like myself, the schizo in poverty feeling more and more alone as I approach my 64th birthday. I will leave this alone for now, I am scared of myself what reminissing can do, I do not want to go down as a lonely old man, but things are looking more and more that way.
I got side tracked from what I wanted to write about, when reference was made to me in the media during the cold war, for what I did that cannot be explained. I tried something with the power of the mind, it was in the media on OZ FM in St John's Newfoundland, that the Russians were going to set something up for psychic phenomena in the North Atlantic, after I tried a stunt with the power of my mind. Sometime later, a young Russian with an Interpol translator came to my presence, they explained to me that the young Russian wanted to defect to Canada. At that time I did not trust the Canadian and American Governments around me, so I laid a thousand dollars over his heart and sent him back to Russia to take on both Governments that I lost faith in. Apparently it turned out to be Putin of the Russian Federation, before he rose to power. I found out who I gave the money to, through present day Montreal media just recently.
The Picture Below Is What Is Missing In My Life, Like I heard A Child In My Neighbourhood Say, "There Is The Guy That Is Not Allowed A Woman!", Why Because I Know How To Breed Right With No Tattoos On Me For Colour Blindness In Child.
I took an experimental drug as a baby to save my life as a rhysis child, I was born blue. Twenty five blood transfusions later, I survived. I was an ugly child with the bad set of teeth the drug induced in me. Dental surgery to take out an eye tooth that grew, but in the wrong place and never grew in right, while it lodged across my upper gum. My Father explain my birth to me one day, and the nature of O blood type, plus my grade ten biology blood chart as an added bonus for giving blood and breeding right. I am O positive and can only breed with another O positive, an O negative woman woman will give me another rhysis baby like myself, while I am an universal blood donor to A,B, and AB positive blood types.
I lost what I wrote just earlier funny enough......what I agreed to in the Canadian Coast Guard College, how to best serve my country, when having a certain discussion with a superior Officer. I lost what I wrote and how to refind my words is the question now, I had a fair bit written, it is just my luck, perhaps it was too sensitive. I need someone to talk to about my stupid life, too many things do not add up right. I said in Coast Guard College if I agreed to do the job we discussed, I said I would get done in and have my art to back me up. I am still getting done in and need a place to live instead of a toxic dump. There was even talk in the conversation to put money away for me as a back up because I would end up with nothing, as is the case. What became of what, I am saving the Government money as to the agreement, with getting breeding facts right and the handicap that comes out of breeding in gyprock over plaster, people are getting the idea that I may be right. My water processing for health ended up as I have been, under nothing but sabotaged. While I have Politicians commenting about me, with one saying that I am just a lonely old man, no kidding I am tired of having nothing and nobody, when I know my self worth with my education, what I could do in a better environment and financed cost effectively. I could not even get my inheritance for the complication of it all, it would help me secure a place to live getting the inheritance. My life is nothing but a regular Murphy's Law, everything goes wrong along the path to success. I am in the media yes, and psychiatry says I hallucinate it which messes with one's head and they get off with it. The first time a work of art I did was mention in the media, it was named the "Firery Eye", the Atlanta Thrashers were considering it for a logo after the hockey strike some twenty years ago. Heard rumours what became of that painting on the radio recently, was that a hallucination too? I know who I gave the painting to as a gift with and invoice from my company. The art was on the Internet through my portfolio with now de-funk Art and Design OnLine. I just wonder sometimes what all went on? A lot of the time people cannot handle the truth, like in psychiatry, they never dealt with the issue properly with my media attention. One loses faith in the system that does not provide the proper support. I am stuck in system that has failed and I am an angry person out of it. All psychiatry did was do me in in the Courts as disbelievers, instead of helping handle the rise in media attention. It goes back to when it was on the radio, "we are not even allowed to interview the guy that stood up for the National Building Code", why because we would make people out to be complete idiots. With Psychiatrists looking just as stupid with what when on with me during those years. There was a report on W5 what became of breeding in a gyprock over plaster house, two children with Autism. The toxic gases given of by the decomposition of the old plaster in the false wall during pregnancy is not so healthy as an end result. Knowing this I could become homeless again or placed out of the way with psychiatry handling my life. While the Government thinks there is a housing crisis, there really is a bad housing crisis. Like one Renovator once said, "I owe that wee guy a beer and a pizza, I am making a fortune ripping out gyprock over plaster!", it was to that effect, and I sit here with nothing telling an unbelievable story of Canadian suppression around me.
The gyprock over plaster was a con job to steal the old eight to ten inch baseboards made of hardwoods like oak and maple, in Westmount in the Montreal area, the wood could also be mahogany. The eight to ten inch baseboards were of Victorian design with it's curves and waves to reflect the eddy currents of of heat from walking, into the center of the room again. Like I wrote in Facebook or twitter, we could make these baseboards again out of plastic lumber, which consists of recycled javel bottles, for home heat efficiency. To think when one creates the false wall with gyprock over plaster, they are adding a half inch to the wall surface, thus the electrical sockets must be moved out a half inch to be flush with the new surface. No Electrician would do this with a licence and invoice, so the electrical was touched without an licence. Colour blindness with wiring and all, one gets ground faults that the Hydro Quebec transformers tries to straighten out, but the city pipes rot out with electricity flowing to ground which is hooked up to the water main. Electrolysis occurs in building pipe work and the city piping from the ground faults. This corrosion from electrolysis comes out in the the water from the kitchen water tap and is consumed as as unnecessary additives to the water. Hence I came up with my water filtration for health, to stop consuming so much rust or copper oxide in my kitchen water. It shows up in our kettles from boiling water for coffee and tea. The hospital is a copper installation, I caught copper oxide in my water filters in hospital way back, I was sabotaged by the Psychiatrist instead of being taken in, for further water research. I gave my water paper to my attending Psychiatrist last time in hospital, and showed the staff the copper oxide in the bathroom faucets, still nothing is accomplished but treated for schizophrenia, at taxpayer expense for my welfare subsidy with my Quebec pension cheque, for paying taxes all my life from working or selling art through my company.
The Sphere Of My Mind Is Boxed In With Not Enough To Do, Flawed As It Is!
The Australian attack by a person with schizophrenia does not play fair, on all our parts of life that deal with schizophrenia. Now we are to be second questioned in the minds of others, because we carry the title as a diagnosis, I hope not. You always hear the bad side of schizophrenia stories, nothing ever good about us. This does not help the likes of me, going through what I do with my arrest record, it is like another quill against me for what I am caught up in with my diagnosis. Miss understood as it is on paper, most of us are harmless, my case story speaks for itself. The stigma still goes on, Professionally and society it self. We are a judgemental people, sometimes the wrong people get judged too easily like myself, while others slip the noose of mental health and commit a serious offense.
What I went through trying to succeed, it is a hard life carrying the diagnosis, and it does not get any easier as one gets older. It was a life of poverty with Mum and Dad helping out when they could, then what I put them through, having and living with the diagnosis. They are dead and gone now, but their ashes together remain with me, along with a few other items I saved from their apartment. Now with being stuck for a place to move, I do not know what to do with my goods I have in the apartment, even my water processing equipment will have to go, as I am caught with limited budget. I am in a bind with no real contacts to get out of the situation I am in, a lot of people need a bailout plan and I am becoming one of the growing numbers. Part of the problem is what to do with my life? I have too much time on my hands, and do not know how to start picking up the pieces of what my life became. Always trying to do the right thing to survive, but no one person is an island, specially when they have a past in mental health, but at times it can sure feel that way. Alone on an island trying to survive the impossible odds. We are social animals, and I am alone too much in my apartment with two roommates that are not the best, I get fed up doing the cleaning for three people, which leads to the downward spiral of my life, depression with what I have to deal with. I am now starting to lie around too much, not wanting to do anything. Erratic sleep patterns are starting to creep up on me, I just do not know how to get out of this rut. My life has become one boring stay on planet earth! How does one go about turning their life around?
An art idea came to mind, to look into 2D and 3D automation of some of my characters that I have, to post a message on my blog through video. When in hospital, this idea came up with with talking to other patients, but nothing came of it. Perhaps now it is time to look into the artistic endeavor, with a search being done on the Internet, maybe something can be done. I looked into it, all takes money which I do not have, even to get software and learn how to manipulate it.
I need occupational therapy in a way, something to do with my life, I have never felt so alone. I need a place to live and some work, but I have not worked in so long. I can not afford to move. Rent is too expensive in Montreal, what even if I do find a place within budget, which both are in short supply, I cannot even afford a moving company due to having no money to pay for it. It is in the news how renters are in Montreal are at plight, Landlords faced with increase in costs to maintain structures, and have to come up with the money somehow, they want a bailout plan too. I know what type of work I used to do around engineering with buildings. Even to bleach spraying the garbage bins after the garbage trucks empty them, for the stupid white leeches infesting them in the summer heat. Then the men and ladies working the garbage trucks said to me, they want the leeches out the garbage trucks, the only way is sterilizing the garbage bins with limited water and bleach with a pressurized vessel of bleach and water. It costs money and who is to pay, the Landlord once again with this added expense for time and money, I could cut a deal to work the garbage bins, and figure out best way to dispose of the leeches in the wash water, working with a team of specialists put together by the city.
For next month's writings I am going to tackle the subject of philosophical duty as derived from reading Immanuel Kant in hospital and taking notes. It past the time in hospital reading Kant and taking notes from my Kobo book selection, the cell phone was handy in hospital for art, reading and writing.
