Member-only story
People are actually made of a jello-like substance.
September 3, 2022
Writings From the Nuthouse, Redux
I have a massive crush on a schizophrenic.
R* is so not my type, but so my type. He’s in his early 50s, bald, short and stocky. He has the most incredible blue eyes. He is so funny; I laugh out loud, and nobody laughs out loud in a psych hospital. He’d laugh with me, and then others would laugh. His goodness, his humor is simply infectious. R* is snarky and witty and smart. He’s kind and thoughtful and extroverted as all hell. He’s probably the most interesting person I’ve ever met.
R* has constructed an entire universe in his own mind. Sometimes, he’ll go on about some concept that is completely unreal, the stuff of really good science fiction. The first time I figured out he lived in a parallel universe was when he talked about walking 486,000 miles and “the 20,000 books of Shales”. After a while, I figured out Shales was his surname. From what I could glean, he’s lived at least 40,000 years, he’s had multiple identities, and he’s immortal. On his “walk arounds”, he simply finds someone that wants to “twin” with him, and they duplicate one another and continue on their way.
When I first figured out R* lived in such an incredible place, I did what I usually do: ask questions. That shut him down. I kept…
