They call me “Mental Me.” I see that asshole mixing the medicine again with my tea. I give the nurse squirrel eyes as she hands me my pills. As long as I look crazy, I get to live tax free. I may go to prison soon if Fred touches my stuff again. I hear though that even if I went to prison… I would end up back here. It must be some kind of circle of life. Or imprisonment. There was something I intended to do. What was it.