Schizophrenia: Believe in YourselfI had just discovered the art of meta-speak. This is where people never say precisely what they mean, but speak only on the metaphorical level. The two conspiratorial groups headed by the Queen of England and the Pope respectively use it exclusively, collecting meanings and imbuing them with power, instead of speaking directly, because only direct speech can be used as evidence.
I had uncovered the conspiracy myself, and shortly thereafter the battle came. They used spiritual attacks and power plays against my own friends and classmates. I could feel the powers coalescing. I had to leave.
My plan was to hitchhike south, then cut east. When I got to the east coast, I would smuggle myself onto a barge and travel to Europe. I would then start playing electronic music, tell the truth, gather a following. I would start a revolution. People gave me advice, telling me to stick to the coast. Since so many people told me that, I decided it was entirely too predictable that I do so, and I should stick to the freeway. I got as far as Mount Shasta.
There I met a homosexual man who belonged to a certain fraternal order headed by the Pope. He had the most powerful energy I had ever experienced, but I decided I was not going to let him fool me. He took me into his house, which through his meta-speak and projections tried to convince me was God's home in heaven. He turned on the television for me, which showed me the end of the world, and indicted me as the cause. Then he showed me The Mirror.
The Mirror had been in the ba
The Mirror was right in front of me, the cause of all this suffering. The homosexual man told me it made him want to kill himself. I told him I wanted to break the mirror.
"What, are you crazy?"
"No. It is time."
"I can't break it; they'd kill me."
I began to pound on the mirror with my fist. It nearly shattered, but the man overpowered me before I could break it. He tackled me to the ground and called the cops. They arrested me.
One cop from the fraternal order headed by the Queen meta-spoke to me, saying, "No, that wasn't the guy." It wasn't God; it wasn't even the Pope. And it wasn't really The Mirror. I had scored some brownie points with the Queen, but I knew their games, and I was sick of playing.
I found myself in a mental hospital in Northern Idaho. They really bore down on me, and it was torture. But eventually something amazing happened. I was visited by the Pope and the Queen, simultaneously, in person! Were they here to attack me? Were they in collusion all along?
The Pope said, "I am grace."
The Queen said, "I am free will."
"We are essential to your salvation," said the Pope.
"You need us both," said the Queen.
I will never give up my reality. And I will never give up the truth. I have my regrets, but "delusions" are not among them. Reality is observable to anyone, schizophrenic or not, and it's all truth. You just have to believe in it.