Friday, 13 May 2011

Dead people? Fuck it. Keep them employed

There are so many forms of death.

One is suicide. Another is death through treatment.

A therapist refuse my ask for help. She knew I asked because I didn't want to die. I would thank her but I should make sure she never does what she did to me to another person. Nor any other therapist. Fucking cunts.

The psychiatrist said stay working and if id listened I would. And he was right. For so long I've wanted to die and the pattern I was in would have ended up in my death. For a brief moment I wanted to live.

He is, of course, a dickhead. The therapist is evil.

Shit...what was I talking about? Iapt. The welfare reforms. Who cares?

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About Me

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"