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The Care Facility

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posted on Jun, 29 2009 @ 03:53 PM
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It's a misnomer, they don't care.

They say they want to help me through this terrible depression, but they don't.

I've sat in this chair for three years, looking out of this same _ Looking down
on the sidewalk below, the sidewalk that brought me here in the cold rain. It leads
to the front entrance on the first floor of this care facility, but I've never been back
down there since the day I arrived, three years ago. I've just sat here in my chair,
waiting.
I never noticed how dirty the screen on the window is, until today. But I love that
screen so much. Because it is there, they allow me to keep the window open, and
when I keep the window open I can smell the clean fresh air blowing in, trying to
cleanse the medicinal clean air forced through the vents all around us. And there
are certain times when the rain penetrates the screen and lands on my face . . .
cold, and wet, and wonderfully exciting. Those are the times I escape.

It's raining today. I am watching the sidewalk below, to see if someone is finally
coming to claim me. No one knows who I am. I don't know who I am.
I don't know why I don't know who I am. But I feel deep down inside that I want
someone to find me. I am here waiting for you to find me. The staff says it will
happen sooner or later. I've sat in this chair for three years , in front of this
window . . . waiting.
I know I'm not crying, they say I haven't cried since I arrived three years ago. It
must be the rain coming in through my screen, landing on my cheeks.

If you get this message I'm broadcasting with my mind, please come to see me.

You may know me.

It's raining. And . . . I'm escaping.




posted on Jun, 30 2009 @ 04:40 PM
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J o h n D o e johndoejohndoejohndoejjjjjooooohhhhhnnnnnjohnddddoooo
eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeejohndoejohnPdoejohnLdoejohnEdoejohnAdoejohnSdoe
johnEdoejohnHdoejohnEdoejohnLdoejohnPdoejohnMdoejohnEdoe.



posted on Jun, 30 2009 @ 04:47 PM
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I put . . I put a message . . into . . what they call me . .



posted on Jun, 30 2009 @ 08:48 PM
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Definitely thought provoking and I would come find you if I myself weren't lost.

But I am lost as you are trapped within that lonely room
I am lost within myself trying to escape this gloom

The endless maze of life and mind harbor me so caged
Behind these eyes are bars within that taunt me in cruel ways

Someday they say, someday they say, someday far yet still soon
Too many someday's echo in my mind while I stare at the moon

Waiting your message reads, as I find your like me
Together we wait for something more, something to set us free

Caged inside our different cells we call out to those
That might hear us waiting, lost, before we feed the crows

Message received, encoded thoughts escape my simple mind
Yet by the hope screaming from them, someday the truth we'll find

Some days I fear, some days I hope, some days I trail behind
Still waiting to be free of me, within this prison mind



[edit on 30-6-2009 by N3krostatic]



posted on Jul, 2 2009 @ 12:55 PM
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As he was nodding off, the pain came,
" . . . . . . . ." there it was again!!

Someone has received my message,
someone has reached out and touched me,
my mind, . . . and I feel fine,
draw the line, drink some wine, thoughts that bind,
is it time ? . . . to escape . . .can't wait !

I threw the blanket aside, and stood up, (for the first time in three years),
my kneecaps cracking and groaning, the nurses staring in disbelief and
muttering "Oh my God, oh my God", and my fellow patients silent as stone.

I felt dizzy, but determined. Staggering over to the elevator, I pressed
"basement" and the doors immediately closed. Down I went, escaping.

Then out into the night . . . what a sight . . me, splashing through the
puddles and rivers of rain . . . there's no pain, now.

I'll be sitting on that park bench over there if you want to read my mind
again. It's okay, you can, . . I want to find out who I am.

And who you are.






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