Every empty park bench has a story

Out in a small rugged old town there is a park with alot of life. It has a park bench where two old friends once used to sit and both giggle and silent away.

Towards the end of each day, a man sits on it alone. He listens to the birds whistle and sing, watches the children play and observes the people walking on the park trail.

Meanwhile, surrounding the trail and bench wanders a little girl with starry curious eyes in the grassy field. She is seeking flowers, the first signs of spring flowers. People always tell her that it is far too early on and that she will never find any flowers, yet she keeps looking for them.

Unnoticed, this little girl walks up to the man and asks
'Why are you talking to the wind?'.
He looks a little startled but shortly responds kindly
- 'Because the wind carries prayers'.

And as the girl grew up, she carried that with her and nowadays the spring flowers are always there in time for her.

The Fox and the Grapes

The fox who longed for grapes, beholds with pain
The tempting clusters were too high to gain;
Grieved in his heart he forced a careless smile,
And cried ,‘They’re sharp and hardly worth my while'.

Harmonizing me

She adored him so passionately,
He was so godlike in her eyes;
and being, though untrained, instinctively refined,

her nature cried for his tutelary guidance.

When the mind takes over

To say that we will never have a wonder cure for Schizophrenia is bullshit! To ask someone with thought disorder to verbally explain is nothing but torturous. So to have psychotherapy as the only other option is even more bullshit!

It is so important that we remember Manfred Bleuler's words, the father of Schizophrenia, that there is a normal psychological life within each schizophrenic person hidden behind the psychosis. After all, he was so right! Schizophrenia is bottling up angry sadness from hurt, being a storehouse of horrors. They are not caged in misperceptions as commonly believed, they face symbolic consequences of being maligned and ill-treated.

The same way a child's imaginary friend serves a pristine purpose, the Schizophrenic's hallucination serves to allay the imminent catastrophe delusion from continuously being battered with realism. In reality, the schizophrenic is the creative child. A child who does not need to be subdued by neuroleptics or longterm psychotherapy, which is treatment-refractory in Schizophrenia anyway. They need an alternative way of expressing since verbal language fail them. Art therapy is an encounter with the image and the psyche, our inner world represented outwardly by our creative expressions. Give him a pencil, color pens or watercolors and he will paint! The process of art therapy in Schizophrenia sessions reveal the vivid inner life, which words so often fail to bring forward. Therefore it expands communication and offers insight outside the scope of the reasoning mind.

As for psychiatry, it seems that it has learned nothing from the past nor present, seeing as they keep isolating schizophrenics from their external life through hospitalization. Now how would someone, with an already bottled up internal life of silent demons and internal chaos, possibly contribute from being isolated externally as well?? Art therapy may be one way of entangling the symbolic chaos of Schizophrenia, however it will not serve any good if psychiatry stays conservative and change avoidant.

Moments of escapism

A spiral wind to end nowhere,

Keeps me swirling since I do not dare.

When happy cherub faces sting,

Feathers and tears fall down my wing.

Yet always kept in steady a hold,

Thus, escaping the chevy cold.

The bittersweet life

Don't ever give up

if you still want to try.

Don't ever wipe your tears

if you still want to cry.

Don't ever settle for an answer

if you still want to know.

Don't ever say you don't love

if you can't let go.

Life is a great school and teaches us lessons that could never be learned, by the soul, in any other way. We come here to experience both love and loss. Whatever is sweet in its happening, will be bitter when it ends or changes. Sadly, this is the reality that many people settle for, without a single thought on mounting it, when it is the steps you take afterwards that are the ones that determine what it turns into. That is what being courageous is; Courage is not the absence of fear, but the ability to move forward despite fear.

Fighting the unbeatable foe

To fight the unbeatable foe

To run where the brave dare not go

To love pure and chaste from afar

To reach the unreachable star

We are all storytellers, that is what we are all here for.

Through flickering lights, sometimes one can get to talk to millions of people at a time, if one is lucky enough. But I would have done it on the back of a wagon in Shakespeare's times too.

I would have been in the wagon that is mentioned in Hamlet.

When you grow up in a suburb, a dream like mine may seem vagely ludacris and completely unobtainable but it is directly connected with those childhood imaginings, and for anybody who is on the downside of advantage relying purely on courage;
- it's possible.

If the eyes have no tears the soul has no rainbow

When lucky numbers in the rainbow end,

bad luck is my only friend.

How is it that everytime undeniable strokes of good luck occur, people tend to see purpose in it, thinking it has a higher meaning whereas when something unfortunate happens people are quick to feel they are doomed with bad luck? The truth is that cognitive biases make this possible and it seems as though the fine line between the two is thin, just as with other opposing superlatives. See, if you believe and dream it, then you can achieve it!

The 'soul' or our 'inner self' has resources we cannot even begin to fathom or imagine. It has the ability to lead us to the people and circumstances to help us succeed, heal, and overcome obstacles.

Because if you think it, want it, dream it, then it's real. You are what you feel.