Picture circa 2019
Sometime in 2022
This time there was a certain quality of helplessness. I believed I needed to use sign language and had visions of miscommunication since childhood. Tongue tied. I pronounced all words wrong and had been talking baby talk all my life and that is why I was found to be truly gifted.
Not that I don't know Ive always been smart, but it left me. Torture. The hospital is torture sometimes. They lock you in a room. I see the shifting faces and stature as they assist the others and I am the incredible shrinking woman. Faces morph. I have a job to do there and must be tortured to get to my prize, I suppose. I didn't sing this time. I didn't yell or do what I think to be voice overs for mass media.
Billings became New York City that night and all the buildings and places were new to me. Except the restaurant Jakes which was under remodel. I wandered around the downtown briefly disclothing at the Valley building where I used to have to do urine tests. I sat in the security guards chair naked. Of course the cops were called.
I played in the parking garages and was so excited to find my prize at the end of a somewhat escape room of sorts. Playing to my own song and surely it was to find Jake.
I believe he is out there to be found. I strongly believe that. I believe that each time I cross over to the other realm where I see the medical field to be a scam and all the things they use are a part of history. Like there is no need for these medical processes in heaven. The Billings Clinic becomes a museum to me.
A certain amount of desperation comes into play as I don't know what is going to happen to me or if I will ever be well again. I feel I have no home and no one to take care of the poor dislabeled girl.
I am Fiona and I am looking for an Ogre.
I
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