Why I am angry...someone asked me today why I was angry and couldn't "let go" of the suffering caused by the tormentors who seem to enjoy drugging me. The answer is quite simple. As I write this my back is writhing in spasmic pain from the drugs. My abdominal wall is locked up in muscular spasm. My left leg has the nerve damage pain, but still it is not as bad as what I went through at the library. This is all the result of the drugging, but still it is not as bad as what I went through earlier today. My torturers love to torment me at the library. God forbid that I read or write or be in any way productive. So, some sweetly idiotic homeless man did their dirty work for them, causing immediate headache, blood sugar crash (which exacerbates the sick headache), and the inability to look up (one of the symptoms of a brain stem "tumor" which I have identified as afflicting me). I suffered so much that I had to go outside and just sit for a half hour before I could get back on my bike.
Why do they persist in this? To make me think I am crazy? Or just to make sure that I can never self-actualize, through writing, or any kind of employment, in any meaningful way that they don't control. More and more I think the latter. And it works...because right now I am in too much pain to stay seated here at this computer any longer.