I feel hated. My entire family has abandoned me. They seem deluded by fanciful ideations of their own suffering. I wander my father’s grounds between times supine or seated. Their hate seems to be resultant of their desire to quit. I, however, was maimed in 1994 and sublimated and sedated these decades since a 1998 diagnosis which sublimated and sedated me for the initial decade and a half or so on antiquated drugs like Clozapine and Lithium salts. So, I sit here, now nearly thirty years, without responses to my essays and letters. I try to empathize, and in answering comprehensively I offend. For years in solitude I have sought their answers, and found that they hate the explanations they seek; as such explanations compromise their egotistical concoctions of rationale that suits themselves. So, I cannot serve the simple minded delusional masses any more, and I retreat. Hermetic avoidance of the compulsion to address illiteracy is my only recourse to a conscription to the paradigms of the blessed flock in which I believe and only ever sought to be amongst.

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