10-pill night

I am sick and tired of taking 9 pills every night and I can't stand it any more. As a result, I took 10 pills with Solian the alternative antipsychotic.

Tomorrow and the week ahead will be the time to judge whether Solian could help with my psychotic symptoms.

Red Red Wine

Strange things are so common in my domain that they are but part of the baseline model for my everyday life. However, something exceptionally weird took place today and really caught more than my eyes.

I think I was reaching for my wine and the next thing I found was that my right hand pushed down the pint of water while the left, my wine glass.

In addition to the usual suspect called that chip in my head, there might be something pretty fucked-up neurologically. (Oops, pardon me for my language.)

Heat: Ratprincess' psychotic model 2013 and Happy New Ye...

Throughout the years, I have become ever more intolerant to heat. The threshold of getting overheated today has dropped down to around 26-27 degree Celsius.

If exposed to "too much" heat, my entire constitution becomes flaky, feeling like the system was to break down any moment. I have to ship my behind to an AC-ed environment, getting myself refrigerated like some dairy product. In one extreme case, my body didn't start sweating until almost 20 minutes after I entered an AC-ed environment. Yes, sweating is only the beginning of a journey to get myselves back to be normally fucked up... "Oh, paradiso."

This extra minor inconvenience in life called heat makes it a bit more cumbersome to maintain myselves to be functional for about 2-3 hours a day.  Well, what else could I do? Live with it.

Then, earlier on, I realized that I missed two events two days in a roll in my event-less life.

"Did I miss the gathering to get drunk last Saturday?" I exclaimed to myselves and the tofu inside the head froze in the aftershock.

The stillness of the silent freeze was broken by this fleeting thunder of quantum coherence and somewhere on that vibrating tofu my psychotic model waved at me, "Bull's eye!"

Even more limited has been my limited capacity when "Not otherwise specified" soundered. (See page 17 in the linked file.)

Ratology Reloaded: Ratprincess' psychotic model 2013 and Happy New Ye...: I have been talking about this book I have been working on.  Unfortunately, not too many a person has seen the ghost of it, not to mention ...

10-year anniversary for my absolutely unheroic whatever disabling accident

Escaped was my graviton, hypothetically, 10 years ago when a chair collapsed under my big fat butt.

It was on June 19th 2007 in NYC and already June 20th in Taipei. It ain't no nothing to celebrate about though give me a great excuse to drink up in the company of Absinthe and more.

Salute! À Votre Santé und carpe diem!

Day of Remembrance

Today is the Day of Remembrance for NASA's heroes.

https://www.nasa.gov/specials/dor2017/

It is 2:00 AM on February 1st in Taiwan while most places on this planet are still on Jan. 31st.

While I am not sure which day the official Day of Remembrance is, it doesn't matter because they are remembered everyday.

In the morning of February 1st, 2003, I was on the 8th floor of St. Luke's Hospital recovering from reverting the world back from Apocalypses one to many times. Then, we heard from TV that Houston had lost contact with the Columbia Shuttle.

In my world of alternative reality, I looked down at St. John whose top was blanketed with snow. I asked for help.

I tried to channel with whoever I could connect with on board of Columbia. I try to keep the connection open.

So the line was kept open and I tried my best to engage conversations with them and encourage them too pull it through.

"Hang in there. Try to hang in there. The search and help was on the way." I pleaded.

Time passed and the official statement was finally released on TV.

Debris were found but there was no trace of survival though the search would continue.

My pal on the other side of the line bid me farewell, "Now I have to go."

I could bring the world back from the apocalypses but there was nothing I could do to save the astronauts on the Columbia Shuttle.

"I am sorry. I am sorry. I couldn't be of more help."

One life. At last one life. That was what I asked for.

I knew. They might have a chance and the sad ending could be reverted if I wasn't so weak.

That day, concern and worry was on all my ward mates' face though there was no telling what was in their minds.

14 years later today, I grieved for these astronauts, those who I try to help saving, the same way I did when the communication channel dropped on the day of the accident.

Do I know now that the astronauts had no inkling who I was and am? Yes.

Do I know that I was a telepathic delusional with hallucination? Yes.

Albeit with all the insights, my regrets still get the best of me for one simple reason--it was life lived for me: a traumatic failure to bring them back safely.