Psychiatry Causes So Much Death

I Believe There's A Killer In All Of Us. I Know There's One Inside Me. When You Know The Killer In You And You Know Also That You Do Not Want To Kill, You Have To Set Yourself Upon A Course Of Learning. Not To Kill That Killer Then, But To Control It.

Mystical State, Madness, How It Frightens People. How Utterly Crazy They Become, Remote, Rude, Peculiar, Cruel, Taunting, Farouche As Wild Beasts Who Have Smelled Danger, The Unthinkable.

The Great Mass Of Women Throughout History Have Been Confined To The Cultural Level Of Animal Life In Providing The Male With Sexual Outlet And Exercising The Animal Functions Of Reproduction And Care Of The Young.

You May Well Ask How I Expect To Assert My Privacy By Resorting To The Outrageous Publicity Of Being One's Actual Self On Paper. There's A Possibility Of It Working If One Chooses The Terms, To Wit: Outshouting Image-gimmick America Through A Quietly Desperate Search For Self.

Life Is A Publicity Stunt. A Shill. You've Been Had.