Life inside the Mental Health Ward.

One: The Beginning.

New York was not the best place to be for a fat & depressed, passive-aggressive immigrant Asian kid. At least I acted nice at the gas station where I was working, so much so as a child rooted in commoner's background I could sense the needs of everyone (or women) who were working there, whether they happened to be all whites or not. Since back then TMJ was not my prior concern - making a living of my own was.

......

But that was the happy moment after I got out of that insanity-provoking unit. If I was pilled, I was given pills. If I was restrained, I just had to be so. The internal state of me, unexplainable on common standard. Everything just "happened"; besides the 'bad stuff' I was doing before, which was stalking my beloved (?) idol at the time being. Thanks to that my aspiration of becoming the best Cyberpunk (or contemporary) artist through the interwebz is now good as gone but instead I find myself writing this for whatever reason.

Bullying is bad. Shit would just apply true to a stalking behavior as well. Only that the former is what everyone agrees to, if the latter happens on a 1-on-1 scale. The former, publicized and magnified. The latter - hidden out of sight, until the victim becomes, well, end up where they are. The women in the news talk about being raped by their stalker. In my case, I just got myself into the trap of becoming worser version than where I was, if the supposed target of mine - is just enjoying his life as he deserves to be. At least I didn't go to the Women's Unit, where there's gonna be the drug addict's daughter boiling with her sisterhood's rage, or the heroine-addict baby mom who's about to have her third child after sending two away to foster care. Let's just not get to the crowbar part, shall we.

.......

Two: 'Special Circumstance'

...

I was born in Busan, Korea in the year 1992 as my ID suggests. I do remember myself as this 'cute kid' who rode on tricycles and bumping onto this unknowing grandpa while riding on bumper cars. Besides that, everything else seemed to be normal - except that we lived in a house of 3 females: My maternal grandmother, my mom, and me. That is after my "real" dad was gone at my age 7. Now at least I'm not totally alone in that statistics, right? Come into the genre of women's films, you'll get to witness even worse accounts of male familial negligence. Stuff that makes intelligent women decide things better for themselves than playing wifey and having her hussy's children. ..Of course, I know better not to offend real mothers like that.

.....

Skip the years of me jumping around with my fat-child body, feeling oppressed by the fist-throwing local boys of Haewoondae - I now find myself at Hae-gang High school, while I have no idea how to deal with my "weird" status where I'm the only one who a) went to military-base American school and b) who had to go to specialized institution to get GED to "fit in" to that Korean high school I insisted to belong on. And the worse it was, I still had bullies around me - besides the fact that the whole classes were divided by the gender. So it was technically a unisex school, while if you were a girl you belonged in all-girl's class. If you were a boy vice versa. And turns out, the "monkey hierarchy" stuff would run the same no matter what. Psychosis stuff would develop gradually, until a doc in New York mentioned it to me & my mom.

...

Three: 'I want to have sex with my idol'

So come back to the Mental Health Unit of Binghamton, NY where I was housed and I'd find 1) a black guy dancer who'd literally shake his dick inside a darkened room 2) One random old white man who'd keep offering me Snapples 3) An old woman with bulging eyes with a thing for brushing her hair who reminded me of a fictional creature in a fantasy novel 4) One chill dude who liked my drawings (Thanks, Shane!) 5) Girl who had worse sleeping problems than me 6) Girl who had worse laughing problems than me 7) Boy who looked like he just got pulled out of an Italian gang 7) And finally, a old blonde lady with big glasses on who left me with encouraging drawings for my devastated mind. Of course I now more than understand why my first English teacher (who rather had an appearance of an mountain man) in Norwich High would offer me to watch One Who Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest, written down in a piece of paper.

And this one white dude I'd (literally) keep being promiscuous with, believing that he was that someone I've kept "chasing around" online. One of the craziest things I remember thinking of doing is trying to sneak up into his room while he's sleeping. ...While till this day embarrassing to say I have no idea why I was willing to go beyond being slutty. One could only argue that the early-on years of bullying Park Chung-Hee style did something to my growing brain. Sad.

Well, I see that time's up for now.

.....