I Couldn't Get That Same Feeling During

I Just Knew That God Wasn't There. He Was A Man On A Throne In Heaven, So He Was Easy To Forget.

If A Person Is Treated Like A Patient, They Are Apt To Act Like One.

For Eight Years I Was An Inmate In A State Asylum For The Insane. During Those Years I Passed Through Such Unbearable Terror That I Deteriorated Into A Wild, Frightened Creature Intent Only On Survival. And I Survived. I Was Raped By Orderlies, Gnawed On By Rats And Poisoned By Tainted Food. I Was Chained In Padded Cells, Strapped Into Strait-jackets And Half-drowned In Ice Baths. And I Survived. The Asylum Itself Was A Steel Trap, And I Was Not Released From Its Jaws Alive And Victorious. I Crawled Out Mutilated, Whimpering And Terribly Alone. But I Did Survive.

Never Console Yourself Into Believing That The Terror Has Passed, For It Looms As Large And Evil Today As It Did In The Despicable Era Of Bedlam. But I Must Relate The Horrors As I Recall Them, In The Hope That Some Force For Mankind Might Be Moved To Relieve Forever The Unfortunate Creatures Who Are Still Imprisoned In The Back Wards Of Decaying Institutions.

I Couldn't Get That Same Feeling During The Day, With My Hands In Dirty Dish Water And The Hard Sun Showing Up The Dirtiness On The Roof Tops. And After A Time, Even At Night, The Feeling Of God Didn't Last.