Entry 3: So Many Pills, So Little Time

I am on restriction. Again. This time it really wasn't my fault. What did they expect for me to do when the ward nurse had the inane audacity to say that I was a homicidal maniac? I showed him exactly how homicidal and maniacal I could be when I shoved his head under the automatic bed and started to lower it down...oh so very slowly. His screams of pain and his begging for mercy brought help and I was knocked out and put in restraints.

I find it very humorous that the guards carry tranquilizer guns when they have to deal with me. You'd think they were terrified of me or something. What could I have possibly done to make them fear me? Other then lowering the bed down on the nurses head. I have been a model prisoner…inmate…patient…whatever. Oh alright, I admit that I walk around and talk to myself out loud. Damn it! What do they expect? I have to have someone as intelligent as myself to talk to. Otherwise I would really go mad, insane, loco, crazy, around the bend, have toys in my attic, be so far over the rainbow I may as well be in OZ, be one summoning short of a full possession, my elevator doesn't reach the penthouse, unhinged, w…

And there it goes again not being able to keep a clear and concise thought in my head for more then five minutes at a time. This is the main reason that I am keeping a journal, so I can not only keep track of days, but also my thoughts. Which sometimes I wonder if they are even my own anymore, or are they subliminal messages that are being fed to me.

I am so very glad that no one else is reading this, otherwise they would probably label me as being overtly paranoid. Which would add even more pills to my daily I had written earlier I am on restriction and due to this I am not allowed visitors. That fact makes me very angry with not only the staff but myself as well. I was looking forward to seeing Dante again. At least I was allowed to have the basket of goodies that my Dante brought for me. My hair and skin feel wonderful and are not only silky soft but smooth as well. And my bed, ah the glory of 800 count Egyptian cotton sheets, they feel quite wonderful thing against my skin at night. Now all I have to do is try to behave long enough to be allowed my own clothing.

I think that I may have mentioned earlier that the doctors have me on a medication, one of the many, that is supposed to make me work and play well with others. How do they expect me to do this? When 'they', the other's that I am supposed to get along with do not realize that I am their superior in every way.

One of the psychiatrist has debated with me about my intelligence. He was shocked into silence when I told him that I am far more intelligent then any person here, especially him, and as soon as everyone realizes that fact things will be so much easier for me. AND THEM! Especially them. Otherwise my new life's ambition is not to successfully raise the Temin-Ni-Gru, but to make the rest of their miserable insignificant lives as miserable as resulted in an anti-psychotic to be added to my already heavy regiment of medication. How is telling someone that I am far more intelligent then they are psychotic. I was only stating a fact. As for the medications that I am on, the warnings vary for each one…May cause drowsiness, may cause insomnia, may cause loss of appetite, increase in appetite and the list goes on. So far there have been two that I have had troubles with that I didn't list. The first being the fact that I am easily distracted now. And the second, well a conjugal visit with Dante would take care of that. Lose of sex drive my left testicle.

I AM AS HORNY AS A DRAGON IN RUT. A SHE DEMON GONE INTO HEAT.

If I don't get laid soon someone is going to die