Treatment Resistant

The people were angry. They hated me. They wanted to kill me. I could hear them shouting and roaring outside of the building. It wasn’t real – I was stuck in the dream box having lots and lots of dreams. I was stuck in the therapy box having therapy sessions. I was having to experience all my issues over and over again until I was cured of them. Only it wasn’t working. The therapy box couldn’t cure me. I was treatment resistant. I was in the dream box dreaming my head off. I never knew it was possible to dream so much. I never dreamed so fast before. None of it was real. The therapy box wasn’t real and neither was the therapy. That was just another dream. The dream box wasn’t real either – I was only dreaming that it was real. I could hear the angry voices of the people outside – they wanted to break into the building to find me – they wanted to kill me. They were breaking windows and throwing stones. They were very angry and they knew I was there – they couldn’t wait to find me and kill me. They knew I was in the building – they could read my mind. In another reality I was a successful TV personality. I had my own show on Channel 6. My show was called Mr Fuckwit and I played a character who always did lots of stupid things. People enjoyed watching this show because it made them feel that they were not stupid. They knew that I was the stupid one and they could have a good laugh at me because they could see that I was such a stupid fuckwit. The show was moderately popular. Then there was a bleed-through of the two parallel realities and I suddenly became famous in this reality too, only I was famous in a bad way. I was famous for being bad and everyone wanted to kill me. I had mismanaged the economy. I had damaged the ecosystem. Their lives were all fucked up and they knew it was my fault. They were very angry about everything being my fault and they wanted to make me pay. Then they would feel better. They couldn’t wait to drag me out of the building where I was hiding and kill me. They knew I was in there. They could read my mind. I was hooked up to the dream machine dreaming my head off. I was in the therapy box having therapy but the therapy wasn’t working…






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