When It Hurts II

Days passes by and i recall memories. The medication make me weak and dizzy. I have not quality on life and it seems like my pased get me. I float back to better days when i was well and in stamina. I think about it all and tries to write a novel about the psyciatric field in a humourous way to make people see how bad the treatment is. I dont recall all my life and the psyciatric treatment drag me into a role where i am not ill, but depressed over my situation and only focusing here and now when i talk. It is no place to be. The doctors is in the believe that i am better. But i am only resigned with no forces to fight. I read, listen to music and paint to make the days going and only hope that a better psyciatric field is beeing developed with happiness to the patients. I walk as a bag. Short steps and very tired. It is no good treatment to be in the role of a passive humanbeeing without the control to use youre own will to reach youre dreams. It seems like i make it through. All i want is back to my appartment, be together with my good friends and write novels and paint. It is not a lifestyle that requires medication. Actually i understand very litle in how they treat me. " Turn My Head " i put out today, because i have a love story i cant remember all of. It seems like the years erase the feelings and the thoughts. Or maybe it is the medications. I hope all can have the reality to dream and reach theire dreams. I still dream - but very litle. It is just to try to hang in there as long as i can.