Harlem, the problem these days, no one knows their rights.
'What have you done now?'
It's what Dr. Siemans has done.
'You should have been committed years ago.'
They nearly succeeded.
A phone call and a slip of words saved me.
'Rubbish, if you were admitted and escaped, the police would have restrained you and brought you to us.'
One problem, sir.
I was voluntary. You are talking about involuntary.
'We have a room for you,' said the front desk of Emergency.
'Not yet,' I said.
'But you are coming, aren't you?'
I'm cumming in my pants at the revelation of what was really going down.
'You can't call us to ask about your position in the line.'
Fucking rubbish, more bullshit being fed to the mushrooms.
Dr. Sieman and his sidekick wanted me to move on.
'Keep trash out of town,' is the official motto of the Tourist Board who want to keep the crackheads from Coffs Harbour out of their tiny and tidy town. Both the esteemed doctors who sit on that same board couldn't agree more. And they were ticking off a list of undesirables to be silenced under section 136 of the Act by the Secretary of the Ministry of Health.
'Fuck,' said my social worker, 'that was too close."
I was calling up the Coffs Harbour Base Hospital where I was referred by a very concerned 'two' doctors - and one of them wasn't a psychiatrist, or if he was, he was my shrink in Perth who discharged me for telling him the truth, that he was a fucking useless cunt.
There's just a diagnosis for that behavior.
Dam.
A loophole.
How to forcefully arrest someone without a police warrant.
'Now that's a lot of power,' says Harlem, who hears that story all the time, on his counseling rounds.
He says Victoria is rife with this kind of extrajudicial killing of citizens' rights.
'We are used to standing back a meter and half,' says a patient who is waiting for treatment. 'Just in case they take a swing.'
He says he's shitting puss and must use a wheelchair,' because my feet are puffed up like the Michelin Man.'
And his liver is shot, functioning on 3 percent from a life of living to the fullest.
'On high-grade booze and powder,' he says.
The nurse comes back and looks at the white trash in front of her. She has me marked. 'Nothing wrong, all good,' she said, in the consultation room.
'What have you done now?'
It's what Dr. Siemans has done.
'You should have been committed years ago.'
They nearly succeeded.
A phone call and a slip of words saved me.
'Rubbish, if you were admitted and escaped, the police would have restrained you and brought you to us.'
One problem, sir.
I was voluntary. You are talking about involuntary.
'We have a room for you,' said the front desk of Emergency.
'Not yet,' I said.
'But you are coming, aren't you?'
I'm cumming in my pants at the revelation of what was really going down.
'You can't call us to ask about your position in the line.'
Fucking rubbish, more bullshit being fed to the mushrooms.
Dr. Sieman and his sidekick wanted me to move on.
'Keep trash out of town,' is the official motto of the Tourist Board who want to keep the crackheads from Coffs Harbour out of their tiny and tidy town. Both the esteemed doctors who sit on that same board couldn't agree more. And they were ticking off a list of undesirables to be silenced under section 136 of the Act by the Secretary of the Ministry of Health.
'Fuck,' said my social worker, 'that was too close."
I was calling up the Coffs Harbour Base Hospital where I was referred by a very concerned 'two' doctors - and one of them wasn't a psychiatrist, or if he was, he was my shrink in Perth who discharged me for telling him the truth, that he was a fucking useless cunt.
There's just a diagnosis for that behavior.
Dam.
A loophole.
How to forcefully arrest someone without a police warrant.
'Now that's a lot of power,' says Harlem, who hears that story all the time, on his counseling rounds.
He says Victoria is rife with this kind of extrajudicial killing of citizens' rights.
'We are used to standing back a meter and half,' says a patient who is waiting for treatment. 'Just in case they take a swing.'
He says he's shitting puss and must use a wheelchair,' because my feet are puffed up like the Michelin Man.'
And his liver is shot, functioning on 3 percent from a life of living to the fullest.
'On high-grade booze and powder,' he says.
The nurse comes back and looks at the white trash in front of her. She has me marked. 'Nothing wrong, all good,' she said, in the consultation room.
You lying fucking bitch, she's got me down as a Mentally Disordered Person, diagnosed by that cum bucket, Dr. Sieman.
And now she's belittling and jeopardizing the health and wellbeing of the guy in the wheelchair.
"Get out of that fucking wheelchair and follow me into the office', she says, then points at me.
And now she's belittling and jeopardizing the health and wellbeing of the guy in the wheelchair.
"Get out of that fucking wheelchair and follow me into the office', she says, then points at me.
'AND YOU, WE HAVE CCTV CAMERAS, SO DON'T RUN...'
Yeah, yeah, and what if I do....
'YOU WILL BE MET WITH BRUTAL FORCE.'
Yeah, yeah, all written in a Mental Health Act, stolen from the Police Act to silence any enemy of the State or anyone sending up Mental Health workers, who by nature, are unhinged.
'Not my fault he's into seamen,' I told the cancer patient, who let out a laugh, coughing parts of his lung from a lifetime of smoking.
He is unsteady and frail from too much radio and chemotherapy treatment, a deliberate dosage that intends to kill him before cancer does.
'Palliative care,' he says, reinforcing NSW Health Care's reputation, before collapsing, going in convulsions. Not without an utterance, 'fucking whore.' If he survives this fit, the Triage Nurse will have him sectioned for Aggressive Malcontent Disorder.
The State should not be questioned.
Once in the system, institutional abuse would no doubt follow, said my lawyer, Frank Russel, one of the best litigation lawyers in the country.
'Don't worry,' says my social worker, 'we'll foot the bill.'
Support Act just got a 20 million dollar injection from the Federal Government, and were told by management, to throw it away.
'And we'll throw you all you need to fight those bastards who tried to have you locked up in a loony bin.'
Stay Hungry. Stay Foolish.
Amen.
Once in the system, institutional abuse would no doubt follow, said my lawyer, Frank Russel, one of the best litigation lawyers in the country.
'Don't worry,' says my social worker, 'we'll foot the bill.'
Support Act just got a 20 million dollar injection from the Federal Government, and were told by management, to throw it away.
'And we'll throw you all you need to fight those bastards who tried to have you locked up in a loony bin.'
Stay Hungry. Stay Foolish.
Amen.