Arquivo do Autor

XV – Disobjective Events

Publicado por Bill Braga
Data da publicação: 02/03/2021

Regarding crazies and doctors, or maybe just crazy-doctors, I have one thing to say: it is all a question of representation. Today, while this occurred to me, and considering that I still remain imprisoned here, I realized that for me to get out, I have to play the game. We have to immerse into it in order to change it, to turn it inside out and crudely expose our unique rationale, our vision of a differentiated world. The men...

XIV – Living and Learning to Play

Publicado por Bill Braga
Data da publicação: 18/01/2021

Daniel, my captivating friend who was here with me just now, doesn’t speak. Wizened, listens, throws his head back and laughs regularly. His diagnosis by the men in white is autism, I think. I consider him to be brilliant. He doesn’t say so, but he keenly listens to everything in his vicinity and picks up on the energy of whoever is around him, often laughing an ironic but wise laugh. They say we were given two ears and on...

XIII – Connected Dissociations

Publicado por Bill Braga
Data da publicação: 15/12/2020

I just woke up again here in Pinel, this “treatment center” that has become my home, but without my ever feeling at home, without the comfort of one… Not like my bed, with its broken deck that messes up my back daily, provides any rest. It’s not the place, it’s the people. It’s these autistic, narcotic, maniacal and even the depressive and suicidal people that make me feel at home. They give me the welcoming that e...

XII – A Joyous Island of Pinel

Publicado por Bill Braga
Data da publicação: 14/10/2020

To live under the logical tyranny of the sane world may be more comfortable for some, but for the non-adapted, those who have gained wings, it is excruciating. This is because the sane are incapable of noticing the underlying authoritarianism in their actions, accepting only the level of reality visible to their clouded eyes. It’s like that scene from the notorious movie The Matrix, where Morpheus, his name being a non-coinc...

XI – House Arrest

Publicado por Bill Braga
Data da publicação: 20/07/2020

I found the cradle that I needed in Sandra’s lap. I don’t know why, but every night, whether it was with her or Valéria, I felt the need to lay my head on a lap, and not just any, but one of those laps. I would have preferred if it was my girlfriend’s. It’s been a while since she last visited me, where could she be? Ok, so it wasn’t the all sentimental love sublime that rises above everything and everyone. Wishful t...

X – Finally a Lap

Publicado por Bill Braga
Data da publicação: 16/06/2020

I’m having yet another talk with the man in white, the impassable Dr. Lucas. He makes a point of maintaining his doctorly pose, the ferocity in his rude and reprehensive voice accompanied by the lord of truth look upon his face. But even he has bowed to my scrutiny. Today I left his office much more light on my feet, he said that soon I will be leaving, he said that I don’t belong to this hospital, but do you think that an...

IX – I bring harmony to the insane… and to the healthies

Publicado por Bill Braga
Data da publicação: 22/05/2020

I stepped off the bus, or rather, I touched down in the heart of Savassi district in Belo Horizonte. Valéria, the nurse, speaks so sweetly to me as I tell this story. She really takes care of me, unlike that dictator-in-white. Valéria has candor, sweetness. Sometimes she gives me such affection that it’s as if I were her son. She lets me lay the mattress on the floor. Maybe she is capable of understanding me. She helps me ...

VIII – The Inner Trip

Publicado por Bill Braga
Data da publicação: 30/04/2020

The days go by, I talk to Lucas (not a doctor, because he has yet to acquire his doctorate) and nothing changes. He remains shrewd and takes himself to be lord of the truth, and to him, letting me out of Pinel Clinic was totally out of the question. But there is a whole world out there waiting for me, I feel the need to get out and dissolve into the human masses that await me on the outside, in the urban chaos. But no, they st...