Asylum Stories

I wrote these three stories in the throes of preparing my master’s thesis. I distinctly remember my head being full of untethered words and phrases that periodically joined together during moments of understanding, only to become torn apart again as I doubted the initial connection.

Learning can really hurt and does reinforce to me the idea I’ve had for a while now that learning is a form of brain damage. Learning forces your brain to change from its norm, which I don’t know, might be an act of violence? Sensory inputs and thoughts are pushing the brain to change all the time, so it is almost as if it was designed to be abused.

And so with these delightful thoughts as the backdrop, here are my asylum stories. They don’t make sense.

The Impossible Chess Game

I picked up his Post-it notes and pulled the head off my queen, only there was no nib and I had only succeeded in snapping her head clean off her body. I tried to swallow the head before he would notice, but he saw me and laughed.

Pop another synapse, Joe!

I had never seen where the juice came from or the beginning of a tube, so I waited for the next quake, and as soon as the teams rushed to assist the spray I left my post, picked one particular tube and just followed it.

Sometimes Words Escape Me

“Tell me, Jasper, what is the name of the mythological creature that sucks people’s blood?”

Dr. Deed sat across from me in my cell, and I couldn’t remember if I wanted him there or not.

“The blood. The funny man with the, the…” I snapped my fingers, trying to make the word come out, but it was either hiding or it just wasn’t there.