Prophet of the psych ward; AGAIN

This has been my role for so long.

Life drives you to this.

I had the coronavirus mask; and the sunglasses to cover my poor broken eyes (shock; eyelashes all gone.) And then one day I put on the hospital robes, one front to back, the other back to front; and it triggered my old MO on the psych ward.

So, something clicked. I was the prophet of the psych ward; AGAIN.

I said, “IT’S NOT THE END OF THE WORLD.”

“IT WILL BE OVER IN ABOUT A YEAR.”

Because the Lord told me to. If the Lord told you to build an ark you would, right? in case it gave anybody a little hope.

So, I am OFF of the psych ward again and battling for my place back in society as I now know it which is the battle for my son and his fiancee; and my relationship with my father who wants me literally dead over my mother’s recent death.

And right now I have nowhere else to stay except with him, my father.

It’s 2:27 on a Thursday afternoon. I just got up and went downstairs for a smoke; and to talk to him; but he is in bed. I need a shower and to go to the supermarket.

So, my MO now is to have a book project in the works so I am going to see if I can go to lulu.com to republish my two self-published books from 4 and 2 years old, respectively. “Every Cloud…” and “California, A Prolife Novel…” They are pretty silly books but it was a start.

So as to the other book projects that I have in mind at this time I will continue thinking of those.

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