The literature of psychiatry as a major aggressors to society and my personal testimony on this
..as it is being written.
By Gregory A. Britt - 1+ (613) 384-2928 - email@example.com
I was sitting on my ass in the grass, I was catching colours in my bloodshot eyes waiting for the bus. "Man!" I told myself, "The psychiatry hospital sure was not my thing." I was almost dreaming how my stepdad would one day call me on not only sitting on my rear end too often, but pulling shit from my ass as well. Deedad will one day call me on being a crook and how would I defend not driving my car before Jake the grafitti artist. "Are you getting on?" I hear in my ears like magic. It was the year 2009 and I really wished I didn't drop out of LaSalle Secondary School 4 years before. "I might not make it on the bus with how much cough syrup I had today!" I told the Bus Driver out loud. "Just get on!" He told me out the fall doorway to what I thought was a really good local enviromental protection program outside the startek window. Sometimes I wonder what the call centre thought of me. Was I a druggy to every last one of them? Sure hope not. Riding down the street on anything was fun back then. The ghosts flying back weeks before halloween on highway 15 in kingston ontario was still a little scary at my age. Finally we reached the downtown transfer point. "Thanks very much!" I told the driver of the city bus. "Oh your very welcome." He answered to my suprise. Normally I find full time city people don't respond on my way home or sound grumpy from near the school I dropped out of only 3 or 4 years before. I don't know how people end up this way. As I walked down the street trying to get to the bank to collect another $20 for a bit of weed while I'm down there. There were drugs on the street back then, so I'd take out only a little. You might wonder why I was up highway 15. Well, I reached in my pocket and pulled out the marker I purchased at a very old dollar store a very long time ago. I finally reached the TD on princess. I was going to do a layup with the red permanant marker, but there were too many people that would see me. Better do this later is what would be a good idea walking into the bank. To my suprise the teller is you? I don't understand how you work here in shock I was thinking. "I'll tag this bank and go smoke a joint rather than work here!" I told the teller. It was a known girl that I saw out at the smoke pit where I went to school. "Nice try!" I said under my breath. "Your cool!" She told me while the marker was in my hand. "Your not!" I responded. I will one day sell her my piggy bank with the 5.00$ in it. I did the next time I was there by the way. Major bank's are as much an agressors as say your local psychiatry clinic or country wide restaurant such as McDonalds Hamburgers. I would reccomend not looking for a place that won't get you upset or angry unless it's a place to call home. They tell you home is where the heart is. There is no enviroment too many people can co-exist whithin while there is almost always the guy or girl to fuck it up.
_4GgrezzorS --- CHAPTER 1