irrationality consumes me this time, as their judgments stick to my face like sap sticks to trees. their laughter is deafening, and i lay here weeping. i guess the feeling of artificial supremacy keeps the blood flowing in their veins. picked apart and served on a platter i am tortured with psychoanalysis. the world as my asylum i am namelessly a-n-a-lyzed until i am nothing but the scribbled lines of a diagnosed psycho neurotic disorder. there is no trace left of my existence i become faceless. placed into established categories characterized with insanity. who am i now that i could fit so dearly into your definitions of behavioural corrections? ~once, nearby a bus stop in a violent city, i found a paintbrush sticking out of the soil so i pulled it out because it didn't belong there. i realized i had caused disturbances by failing to abide to the standard ways of living. they want to have control of all my sensory and motor functions so i don't fall off the right path. they took all that was natural to me and remodelled me back to 'normal'. i became robotic as they tried various ways to keep me from following in the footsteps of my abnormal deviant nature. how could i be given a name that isn't my own, how can i fit anywhere else but into my own skin? there were these weird side-effects from their words. due to these instituted assumptions, preconceived expectations and autosuggestions...i was hysterical.