Being deprived of touch, of human contact is a form of murder. At 60, I here want to be touched, I maybe need to be touched. Within the next ten years, western medicine will market touch as the necessary adjunct to all therapies. But it will be charged. ("Everybody needs love." 4th Proposition of the Para Psychological Method) Now that for the last ten years I've been able to train at Los Campeones gym, I've found that I am not alone in my hunger for a sober life, fellowship and human kindness. But I still need touch. Being designated a maniac by the powers that be, this renders me a non entity in my otherwise work a day world. I am a burden on the state and stick out out like a sore thumb according to my last psychiatrist. But because I can't take psych meds, I'm pushed out of her office schedules and back out into an infinite dream of longings I will never fulfill.
Dreams are desire, dreams of hunger, dreams of peace for those who can not dream. And as the retired Pro Psychic, I can only imagine what my clients used to think when I felt their thoughts, knew their hunger, and longed to feed their hunger for information. This was my burden. When someone trusts you, things happen. Feeding your desires came at a high price. A price I had to pay. And now I can eat, but the hunger still chews at my soul as I dream of the world. Eating when we want is a luxury.
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