Rachel (heropsychodream) wrote,
Rachel
heropsychodream

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Old Broom Bailey

After finishing Fight Club and beginning to read One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest, the subconsious has been filled with thoughts of schizoprhenics and insane asylums.

Last night, I was an 80's girl with poofy blonde hair and flourescent purple lipstick. I was vainly gazing into the mirror in a darkened room when a centipede crawled up to my hand. He dug into my thumb, traveled to my brain, and seized control of my mind. He instructed me to indulge in evil plots, and I was captured and sent to the insane asylum.
Here I met my roomates; one lady wore a crimson, colonial-fashion dress and held a candle. She poured hot wax on herself until there was nothing but a cerated stump. She thought she was wet and kept screaming, "I must purge myself of aquiesence!" which really is just a word relating to water that I fabricated in my own head. Another man wormed around in a straight jacket, his face gray and sack-like. His eyes and mouth had been seared shut.

I had to get out. I escaped the gothic-style mansion. A flock of vultures tried to fly after me and peck at me, but I ran down Cleveland Avenue. It was a long, snowy way down the hill, and Canisius had uprooted its trees. I walked inside and found myself not in high school, but at the Mount! There to put up lights for a Christmas festival.
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