From: Gizmo Perkins <gperkins@>
Date: Fri, Jan 1, 2010 at 12:55 PM
To: Stew Locks <stewlockwood@>
As it is this dream I had
As I slept in all white heavy down
Reminded me of the coo-koo’s nest but modern and advanced
They escorted me in and I said,
“Really I’m not all that sick, just a cold. Do I really have to be in a hospital? What kind of hospital is this? AHH, I see you emitted me, in; this is a coo-koos nest isn’t it? Why? IM NOT MAD!”
“Alright Mr. Perkins, we just want to have a look at you, make sure your alright. Please pick a bed.”
“Yes, any bed your heart desires.”
“Yes Mr. Perkins, Please pick a bed.”
“The brown one? On wheels?”
“Yes Mr. Perkins, if you so chose.”
I walk about the room, sifting through beds, considering location, carpets, recliners, TVs, approximations.
“I’ll take the one in the back corner of the glass divide room.”
Through the entrance I skipped and jumped into the bed - there were three beds in that section of the room - great big windows with a mighty sheet of glass separating these three beds from the other beds, recreation, and the doctor’s perches. I had a pillow tucked under my arm and I laid on my stomach staring out - a girl approached and asked for the pillow - it was hers.
“Oh, I’m sorry is this your bed? Did I take your bed?”
She was reluctant to admit and chose another one - this was my first interaction with a loony.
The Hospital used kayaks as a recreational therapy - thought the water to be calming and free. Most of the crazies were terrified of it and refused to participate. I watched from my boat on the edge, other patients zip through the rapids in a cyclonic undertow and blast out the other side through a stone tunnel.
“Oh GOD…I could never do that” One girl shrieked at that idea.
One of the older guys with black tangled nasty hair began to spray me with a hose.
“Stop FUCKING spraying ME…. STOP FUCKING SPRAYING ME!”
The look on his face made me feel bad for grabbing the hose, slapping him in the face, wrapping it around his neck, and completely soaking him in retaliation. Away I walked. Seemed everyone was in the same boat - terrified of this “therapy” - was I the same way? I never recall going in the water.
I walked back to my room.
Laying on the bed again the pillow girl came in, followed by the hose guy and soon after another guy - they asked me to leave the room and began getting undressed. On a sofa in the recreation room, in front of the TV I faked watching, I saw the mental’s fuck each other. One man down, pillow girl sitting on his face, while hose guy wet her pouch and got his balls gargled. They were loud and giggly and conscious of my presence. I had to pretend wrestling was somehow more exciting than a bunch of lunatics fucking. As the moments pass and their positions change and their decibels increase and their arms flail and the pillows fall on the floor and the sheets spread and their dark wet hair flashes against the all white - the head doctor bursts through the side door and stops em’ like deer’s in headlights - even through the glass divide I can hear him scream,
“You animals! You DO NOT DO THAT! BAD BAD BAD BAD BAD BAD BAD!”
Their giggles and moans turned to screams and apologies as they coward and wet themselves on the corners of the bed.
“No, I’m sorry”
“NO NO NO NO! BAD BAD BAD BAD BAD!”
Pillow girl began to rock back and forth.
Satisfied, I woke up and turned in my bed under the weight of white thinking - mind control through dream states - in an alternative reality they study and test me for some sort of purpose - in their world I must be crazy…