Sincerely Schizo,

Shadows shake silently as I make sense of reality.

Sirens of suicide ring their song in my ears as I dangle on the life raft of despair.

Close your eyes forever, there is nothing to live for.

These tangle thoughts connects dots that are not there.

My mind runs rampantly down every single avenue of contemplation.

Aliens are attacking us and they want to cleverly control us.

The Government is listening, bashing our brains with MK Ultra Mind Manipulation.

Filing us with a project Paperclip.

Voices verbalize varying levels of pain like small knives pricking the skin.

They say to me:

“No one never likes you.”

“Kill yourself.”

“You’re a burden.”

“There is no hope.”

NKYT, whirl whaling whatever their falsehoods tell me.

I’m not good enough, so I’ll run away into my disorderly thought, delightfully delusional delivering desperate despair.

Delusion Number One:

The Earth is living and we are its cell.

Transmitting messages throughout the body of the Earth.

Our attitudes and beliefs are like good cells support the homeostasis of the Body or cancer infecting itself.

This planet is not for us.

We are a host.

Our lives are meant to serve the body.

Delusion Number Two:

I am Lucifer.

Lastly living luxurious in my mental mansion of Barnaby Alkire mind.

I possess patiently taking over his thoughts.

It's fun fighting for space as I take away his freedom and will.

He says he is a Christian.

My Luciferian lies lie and wait to expose him as an imposter.

Barnaby’s my vessel.

Sex no problem, let us sign up for Tinder.

Reputation?

What reputation?

He’ll be embarrassed before the digital town square.

I’ll make him suffer by self-sabotage.

Seeds of deception sow themselves deep in the conscious.

Rooting and germinating into the subconscious.

You are me and I am you, Barnaby.

I will give you bread that Jesus rejected in the desert.

I'll make sure every stone is baked and you’ll have plenty under my rule.

Want to have silly sycophants?

Pleasing pathetically after every thought?

I'll give the fans.

Barnaby, only you bare the nakedness of your contemplation.

Jump!

And let Christ angels attune themselves to break your fall.

Do it for me, Barnaby, my precious puppet!

I will indulge you and gratify the passion for this World.

The desire for the riches of the world, I will give you.

The power will be among me!

Laying there Lucifer tempts from all angles.

Trying to control this schizophrenic mind.

This art, artfully attest the reality of my work.

I am a human being who writes the reality of his life.

A book of categories, define my existence.

Damn DSM-V.

Instead of contextualizing my biological disorder with child trauma of neglect, divorce, and lack of affirmation, we reduce him to a category.

A box.

Lets poke and give him this medication…

Better?

Can you think clearly?

Did the Morning Star set himself?

Barnaby, you are a human being with a biological condition.

The category of schizophrenia doesn't define you.

I am intelligent, interesting, intriguing.

I have the keys to unlock the thriving nature with this disorder.

I am Barnaby, this is my attempt to capture Schizophrenia.