xanthian@zorch.SF-Bay.ORG (Kent Paul Dolan) (05/08/91)
In talk.bizarre and alt.angst, mikey@ontek.com (michael "krill-man" lee) writes: [A tale of triumph over the deadly daemon drug Caffeine.] > Those homeless people wandering the streets? They aren't afraid of > starving or freezing. They're afraid of the shadows and the voices. > The devil whispering in your ear kind of distracts you from trivial > things like survival. Absolutely; when they locked me away, one of my cohabitants was a fellow named Jim who would hold conversations with his nemesis "Smelly Bitch", who controlled his life, made everything come out wrong for him, talked other people into beating him up as if he were some kind of whacko, and whatever. Of course, you could only hear his side of the conversation. The really scary thing was, Eastern [Virginia] State [Mental] Hospital took care of him after months in hospital not by curing his persistant auditory hallucination, but by buying him a one way bus ticket back to New York. It was his avowed intention to go back to living on the street, where he "had it made", to quote him. > All I know is, I ain't goin' back. I *like* being sane. It does have it's attractions, yes. Not completely as advertised, but pleasant. Anyway, glad it worked out, hope my ragging on you about it was part of what helped convince you to take the plunge and keep it taken. Still a good show even if I can't grab any credit. > So Kent, I dare you. Moi? Please not! Say it isn't so! > I fuckingly double dog dare you. Moi. Sigh. Mouth, my big, and me. > Fuck trish. Please; I haven't eaten yet. > Fuck the net. Probably going to have to anyway; moving to a place without a phone, and don't really dare put one in. > Fuck your *ego*. Hey, I'm equipped with a somewhat below average (or at least the average of the bragging I hear) tool; you're talking about a task for a guy whose walk looks like leap frog with a telephone pole. That is one *big* ego. > Put down the coffee and take a short, three month nap. Last time I did that it took two years to wake up, and my wife promptly filed for divorce; I came home from work and collapsed every day, she wanted the bright lights (of rural Virginia, go figure) and the smell of the greasepaint. > Do you have anything better to do? Got code to write, but I can cope. Did before; I just wasn't very interesting while I did it. > the krill, i didn't Yeah, and if you'd go back and look, that nice young lady probably didn't have more than a quarter inch breast pelt, either. Well, I've found myself getting ever more shrill and obnoxious, always in "good causes"; I had to publically pull myself out of the m.a.g battle in news.groups already when my postings hit E above high C; I suppose it's time. Somebody wake me up when the robins arrive in 1993, OK? At least this way there won't be a Birthright '92 campaign to suffer. God I hate having to take the advice I gave soembody else, just because it worked for him. It's been real, people. Kent, the man from xanth. <xanthian@Zorch.SF-Bay.ORG> <xanthian@well.sf.ca.us> -- It's the last fair deal, gone down; it's the last fair deal gone down; It's the last fair deal, gone down, Great God, on that old Rhode Island Line. You going lie for a nickel on my time, you going lie for a nickel on my time; You going lie for a nickel, Mama, you going die for a dime; You can't lose honey if you put your money on mine. [Cho]