bedside manner

dear rodrigo,

i talked to the doctor today.  i only remember seeing a nurse before, and maybe someone randomly sweeping up.  no one really talks to me in here, and i've been here, it seems like, forever.

he asked me about my hallucinations.  i didn't want to tell him, but he did get a sketchy outline out of me.  i wanted to know if i had some sickness, like if i was delirious with fever, but he seems to think not.  maybe the mental break was caused by the sleep deprivation, he says.  i just keep searching his face for any similarity to the quetz'l, but i haven't found any, so i don't think...

my tongue hurts.  he says there's nothing wrong with it.  he doesn't see a scar, or wound, or anything else.  he doesn't believe anything physically happened to me at all.  i don't like him very much.  something happened to me.  i don't believe in this whole psychological break thing.  i thought maybe i was crazy while it was happening, but since then i've had a lot of time to think about it.  and i've decided:  just because something might be say intangible, doesn't make it not real.

anyway, the thing is, i look different to me;  i sound different to me;  i'm not sure i'm the same person.  i wish i could actually talk to you!

would i seem different to you?

i don't know if i'm anxious to get back with the general population, or not.  i can't picture myself in workshops or whatever.

what is going on with me?

and, are you not writing me back, or are they not giving me your letters?

cheers to uncertainty,

clementine