Psychosis and love in a psychiatric ward: a beatnik narrative

Loving Pschizophrenic

MALE VOICE (IN THE TONE OF A BEATNIK READING POETRY)

He thrived upon the collaboration. At times they brought a large copy of the Webster's dictionary to randomly find topics and adjectives that would soon hypnotize their readers into the concepts of the fantasies.

FX

Boy and girl murmuring, turning pages.

MALE VOICE (CONTINUES)

They wrote for months until the girl grew paranoid and very insecure. She began to Question herself, the ward, and then the boy. Immediately the boy grew worrisome, wondering why they were becoming strangers? The girl became mad one sunny day of April. She ranted about; "Why do you hate me?"

FX

Muffled orderly voices, heavy metal doors slamming.

MALE VOICE (CONTINUES)

The boy knew not why or how this had come about. All the words of love and guidance bounced fervorously out of her comprehension. She seemed not to be making any sense of his "words" of encouragement.

FX

Boy speaking directly to girl, ambient noise of the psych ward.

MALE VOICE

Hey, come on, why you gotta be like that?

MALE VOICE (CONTINUES)

The boy too went into his own fit of depression. He began not to recognize her. He often elaborated her true origins of existence. Perhaps the facility had a routine cycle of its patients to keep to a synthetic authenticity inside the walls of the ward?

FEMALE VOICE (MALE PATIENT'S SISTER)

The first time I truly knew something was wrong was when he told us about the radio.

MALE VOICE (CONTINUES)

Dark foggy night, Bakersfield, California, summer of 2000. I am eighteen and my grandma isn't worrying about me tonight. A raver (James Gay) is standing next to his car outside of Steve's house playing some type of music with a noticeable bass line through the walls of Steve's house. He is calling me, I have to go there. Steve ushers me out there, he knows I have a mission.

Steve just introduced me to James this summer.

FX

Car doors opening and closing, sounds of a rave, trance music.

MALE VOICE (CONTINUES)

When we got back to Bakersfield and went to Steve's house for the night, we were still a little dazed from our trip. We go inside and play dance under Steve's black light, giggling laughing.

We both hear a noise outside on the street.

FX

Car noises

MALE VOICE (CONTINUES)

It is James pulling up to the house again. "He is calling me, "I have to go out there." I can hear him talking but I hardly understand him. He asks me about the music. He told me, "Sing along, this is being transmitted," and he told me the various places throughout southern California and worldwide where the tunes were being broadcasted. I didn't want to waste precious air time so I immediately began jumbling off my pocket full of rhymes. I began to have a remote vision of all the locations that were listening to the psychic radio that night. I started to get worried if all of the listeners were getting proper reception, so I started making shout outs to give thanks to all of them listening. My eyes slowly focused on James nodding at me giving me the signal that the airtime was about up.

From then on I dreamt of having James' ability or even just one of his organic radio started kits so I could get my own neural transmissions flowing.

FX

Two males arguing, ambient noise, murmuring female voice in the background.

MALE VOICE

We've all got a radio inside our heads and everyone's listening trying to steal my ideas.

MALE VOICE #2 (MALE PATIENT'S BROTHER)

You're such an idiot.

MALE VOICE

No, dude, I'm telling you.

FEMALE VOICE (MALE PATIENT'S SISTER)

I wanted to defend -- to believe him . . . you know, "He's not an idiot." But my head . . . And my heart . . . I just, I just couldn't.

MALE VOICE (CONTINUES)

They eventually threw me in the psychiatric ward because I was overwhelmed by the transmissions. I would tune the radio to static, hoping James or some goodly spirit would come and save me.