So back to my �morbid� thoughts, I was thinking that I probably should check myself into a mental institution. Then I could parade around in my opened back gown and have my hands tied up in one of those freaky jackets so I won�t hurt myself. I could be myself and no one would think anything of it.

�Why is she doing that?�

�Oh, don�t pay any attention to her, she�s crazy.�

I could shout out my conspiracy theories on the top of my lungs and let my paranoia get the better of me. What beautiful freedom! Of course I would have to bathe frequently�at least twice a day due to my fear of mixing my day and night germs. That one�s a real thing so don�t laugh. I wouldn�t want any of the other freaks to touch me either, especially if they didn�t bathe at least once that day. I would then run head on into the padded walls and feel myself bounce off of them. I could probably spend hours doing that. Then, to end my day, I would huddle in the corner and contemplate how I could sneak a knife, or some other sharp object, from one of the staff members. I would nibble on the ends of my hair rocking back and forth, imaging what I could possibly do with such a thing. What bliss, to get lost in ones mind. Unfortunately I would probably be forced to see a psychiatrist every day. I can�t do that. I have major issues in regards to having people help me with stuff. May have a lot to do with my Hispanic pride, or something like that. I just can�t accept help from people without feeling completely helpless, which in my book is worse then drowning. I absolutely cannot stand feeling helpless. Even physically, I hate being backed up into a corner and I hate being pinned. Both things just drive me absolutely and demonically crazy. Benny did that once, just joking around. I fought him, kicking and screaming, he thought I was playing along until I started crying. He hasn�t done it since. Smart man. Ok, enough with my deep thoughts.