[T]here has been lot of moments of legitimate fear, concern, and uncertainty at the psychiatric center—somewhere in Buffalo. however, those days are benign compared to the moments of happiness and hope in humanity.

During my stays, I’ve had the delighted opportunity to meet incredible human-beings—whom you would suspect to be rude and angry because of how socially castrated they were—-but that was not so, these people were super nice, polite, and possessed a cordiality so supreme, child-like, innocent and humble—compared to the supposedly sane human-beings out there in  the world. For example, if you were reading the newspaper, and someone else wanted it, that person would polity, in a very innocent and child-like way ask if they can read it when your done with  it. unlike, some in society—out there, beyond the walls of this institution of cordial decency—would just be rude and be pushy with you about reading the paper next. Secondly, if you dropped something on the floor, someone would ask in a very calm and sweet voice, like “would you like me to pick that up for you.”?

Thirdly, if you were watching television and someone walked up next to you—-not quite blocking your view, but just slightly on the peripheral where they’er presence would be somewhat annoying; that person would sense that, and ask you ” if am bothering by standing here just let me know.”


Visitors are like a piece of heaven around here. Mad or un-mad, we all love when our visitors come and visit us. For some, they maintain our sanity and mental health, and for others they further extend our insanity and delusional contingencies.

Visiting hours are from 1pm-2pm and from 6pm-8pm; visitors are required to put their belongings in a private locker before visiting. My best friend lee, his mother and my brothers came with a piece of heaven; their obvious happiness, their ear to ear smiles of hope, a book, a Twix bar and cinnamon flavored bagels with strawberry cream cheese from Tim Horton. While other visitors came with cigarettes and questionable contraband. Although, the psychiatric center made it plain and clear that visitors should not bring anything contraband-relating, to visiting hours—–some visitors choose to ignore the latter.

Ultimately, the ignorance of the latter caused us to loose some visiting privileges that we enjoyed. Now, something such as visiting—meant to bring a ray of sunshine and hope—now brings supervision and limited social mobility.

Farewell to 6 Days of Madness

What I am going to miss the most is the plethora of interesting people that I had the delighted opportunity to meet with while staying at the psychiatric center—somewhere in Buffalo NY.

Person #1 Anonymous; white and tall, at least 6 foot 1, dirty Burnett hair, and bright blue eyes. he would always say to me ” I am connected all the way through with my god.” In the real world, we would never have met—-my positive energy and socio-economic mobility would prohibit such encounter, but in here it was permissible.

We talked about the defaults of man, we debated—throwing our beliefs and theories of life at each other as if we were two governmental employees doing oral battle in the oval office. His only wish was to go home and spend time with his two daughters. although, that would not happen any time soon because of how rebellious he was; denying medication, and choosing not to participate in occupational therapy—indicias that would expiate his latter desire. My last vivid memory of him was when we were outside on the hospital balcony—-the sun shinning, the wind blowing his face, causing his hair to dance like a sunbean—while illuminating his bright blue eyes—-uncovered by bees, of course, while I on the other hand was swarm by them as if I was a sitting jar of honey—-when he said to me ” They sense that your trying to harm me.”

Person #2 Pablo; Short stature, loud mouth like a siren, bald-headed with caramel skin that complimented his priceless golden brown eyes. His unpredictable personality was very attractive to me. ” I gotta get out of here,” was synonymous with Pablo. In fact, his oral-signature was responsible for encouraging a pseudo-revolution—-subsequently, discharging many who were brave enough to trodden Pablo’s footsteps. Recently released from jail—Pablo brought all the latter residue of jail with him to C.P.E.P. and to the forth floor. Such obvious residue was the way he would size you up—trying to see if you were a threat. secondly, the way he would almost shout when he was talking—-trying to appear taller by voicetressly inflating his already short stature. thirdly, sneaking into the kitchen that clearly read “employee only,” to secure for himself extra chips, coca-cola, orange juice, cookies, cups and ice.

Person #3 John; A very tall fella, with broad shoulders like that of a swimmer. his favorite attire was very simple—kind of reminds of Steve Jobs; a plain white t-shirt and blue wrangler jeans. John was very charming, long and strong jaw line, deep and sunken’d facial structure that protected and complimented his sea blue eyes. A natural chic-magnet whenever he smiled and displayed his perfect white teeth. John was a writer and avid reader. he’d published 25 articles to the Buffalo news, and read a book a day. Although, he was not of the ripe’d age of Alzheimer’s—-only in his mid forties—-he was prone to forgetting details and moments of his life; here’s a brief synopsis of what our conversation would be like; “so where did you go to high school John,”? I would ask. Then John would reply, ” I went to east aurora, back in, well, I think it was 1980, hold on maybe 1986, but no that’s not right.”

person #4 Ben: I am going to miss him the most, so much so that I am almost attempted to reveal his full name so that I’ll never forget him. Average height, at least 5 foot 11, white and big boned—-but not too big boned—perhaps 189 pounds; and rarely saying anything positive about himself. which is unfortunate, because to myself and the bodies of staff, Ben was sweet, soft spoken’d, cordial, and open minded. He would always say to me ” I want to go home, but I’m not ready yet.” Reason-being, Ben was  severely schizophrenic. Despite the ugly latter, Ben was an idealist, who’s coupled satirical personality was soothing and reassuring. He was hope and despair in one, humility and animality, secular and authentic. I hope that the former moments of us making emotional discoveries, and finding humor within the walls of madness in this institution, never escapes my mind. In the tone of voice and vulgarity that I’ve come to love so much—-Ben would say ” you should be happy your leaving fucker.”