This strange sense of paranoia can't be true. It is just one of those strange thoughts.
I may be evil but I can't see what terrible crime I've committed. Was it wanting to die?
I've prayed for my death to come. Please.
Sent from my smartphone
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2012
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January
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- Human types and psychology
- Why me?
- Crisis and self management
- Annus horribulus
- Freedom of knowledge and information on suicide me...
- Self medication is a tricky thing
- I had 5 minutes today where I tried to feel good
- Homelessness and stuff
- What is the purpose of therapy?
- No solutions for a broken heart
- Clinical guidelines for schizophrenia
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- Solutions to hard problems aren't simple
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- Useful paper on dementia treatment
- Fuck and bugger
- Fwd: A poem I found
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- What colour would you be in tangible mixed reality?
- Re: [Enusp] Fwd: The Schizophrenia Commission
- More disabled doctors!
- check references for Kraeplin's stuff
- First do no harm, you bunch of fucking cunts
- The real challenge for the future of mental health...
- Fuck
- The best analogy I can give for drugs of death
- Cunts
- Understanding Population Health and Its Determinants
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- I am a moron
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- Coping with wanting death
- The drive to human equality is not easy
- Those who live on nothing live free
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- Another thing I have to survive
- Society doctors shouldn't be doctors
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- If any of the Few...
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About Me
- we
- We It comes in part from an appreciation that no one can truly sign their own work. Everything is many influences coming together to the one moment where a work exists. The other is a begrudging acceptance that my work was never my own. There is another consciousness or non-corporeal entity that helps and harms me in everything I do. I am not I because of this force or entity. I am "we"
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