Tis the night former changeover, and all for the period of the ward,
not a moral fiber is up, like we are bored.
Ever since it is a that steadily extra special phenomenon: the fitting composed night. And we're all bored.
Fully, not without a doubt. My nausea woman is bored with nausea, and the father of the croupy young person is bored with her slight being croupy, and the mischievous sprite slight in lodge three, who seems to pass modeled his psychiatric symptoms on a concoction of bad worry cinema and Marilyn Manson videos, is bored with rolling his eyes and muttering, and the affable, white-haired demented elderly man is bored with being affable, white-haired and demented.
I celebrate a few being back seeing a very friendly man who had suffered a punch, and had engineering what they call "amorous dementia". He seemed to be more precise fluent in every way, except that he was tremendously pleased with whatever thing. I walked into the room to see him and he stared and believed "My God, you're a fine looking guy, aren't you?". I asked him how he was feeling and he believed this was the superlative clinic in the world, and the nurses were earrings of women, every one. And whenever you like they brought him the sandwiches he waxed rhapsodic about them, and believed that dignitaries and potentates dining in five highlight restaurants would distrust him these sandwiches.
Now, he was tremendously happy, deliriously happy, preposterously happy and packed with his lot, certianly the happiest of men, but the neurologists had no guilt in declaring him disabled. And he was. He was like a radio only tuned to one forward, strongly colourblind, or cognitively tone-deaf. His own tremendously poor prognosis, the patent make a mess of of his adjacent friends, his quick reduction - none of these restive his in the region of beatific joy. If he had been allowed out of the category, he would pass been the most weak of men, event with all the street smarts of a teen girl on pleasure.
Who would pass alleged that the division to feel fend off, passion and despise was a dangerous continued existence skill?
At any rate, I can seemingly send a message to croupy boy home now. Then write down may be about PAP syndrome, which is a damn welcoming neurological disquiet.
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