If you don’t know what your dream is, then think about what you want your life to feel like.
Dear Psychiatrist, thank you for your email. I am glad, too, to be keeping you informed. My own current in-progress novel, like many others in general, and motion pictures as well, to say they influence me is an understatement. If you’ve seen some of my documentaries, for example, when I say on camera that I might watch an episode of a crime show, I’ll then ponder and even believe, coming up with all the facts and reasons for myself being the killer (meanwhile) never the victim which interests me. If you’ve seen the film OC87 from 2010 it’s similar to Buddy’s thought-OCD within his own autism. I’d first want to know, given the new DSM 5 which I’ve not read — I have never read any of them, and editions of the DSM—the same with biochemistry—two types of writing/subjects which I never mind since I’ve always had doctors who are formally trained in the material. I’ll read other things—more for the layperson with the exception of mathematics and certain sciences, number theory, play therapy, particle physics, applied chaos theory and logic since they pertain, as I see it, to my own autism spectrum and trauma. I find a common ground in, and a relationship within such material and a mirror-effect of my own often-foreign and mysterious life experiences. — So what are my new diagnoses given the new DSM 5th edition? In the meantime, I’ve taken a break from my writing and most online activities. Instead, I’ve been working on an art film all night long and still, this morning, and today. It’s another feature-length movie, at this stage, its current rough cut runs about 4 1/2 hours so there’s still more edits to do in order to get it down to 90 minutes on the dot. Once again, it’s intended for exhibition at the Museum of Modern Art in New York, like “Prototype”. Dear Psychiatrist, you see, what I understand and I will answer your simple question with a simple answer (Answer: it’s both). Of course “he” (Lawrence) is a delusional hallucination of mine, and I did and did not email under “his” name—Lawrence. There are a lot of—let’s say infinite levels to this, our exchanges and our relationship. I find it similar to existential philosophy, fuzzy logic and just like knowledge theory and universal theory. My father always told me, “Life is a game.” I believe our truths are not to be counted on by facts, only by our beliefs. But, quite honestly my intension is to buy into your own reality — believing in its possibility and likelihood — and thus your existence, including what you tell me and write to me, so that I can then “re-create” your non-reality, in part (aside from the symptomatic effects of my mental diseases) in order to make my own life much more interesting than it already is, if you can believe that. In other words, I hear you, not me, saying it was not you but me who created Lawrence’s email address. Furthermore I was and was not responding to myself. The evidence I gather, if it’s any evidence at all, for such a belief or scenario in this “game” — to uphold itself — on the forefront, I’ve heard from you repeatedly, among many others, that I am a pathological liar. So again, similar to the content in my fictional novel (my Alibiography) — you, my friends and everybody — everything — and thus the mirrored dichotomy effect comes to mind, when I wrote the line, “Fair enough, I suppose, let’s go bum a smoke,” at the end of part one in the book series at hand, which from reading its first draft in 2009 helped you diagnose me with schizophrenia prior to the DSM 5 revision. The line relates to the possibility or probability of the nonexistence of everything, even myself. It’s fascinating, a creative outlet to dissociate from the trauma above all, but most of life, so that I haven’t a need nor desire to, for example miss my friends and family, (the trauma) — even my marriage, mental illnesses, and my life, if it’s not there. One (in this case myself) can then build up our own composite sketches of what we want, as unconventional as it may be, of what we wish for, dream about and long for. It’s just like life itself, if it were to be real and true — valid. It never seems to turn out the way we might have wished it, if certain dreams came true. Someone might consider, “I want to marry Brad Pitt.” Then that dreamer ends up fighting with his or her now-husband, and having some good times together, too, but ultimately divorcing. Similar was the premise to the short film “Wax,” based on a chapter from my book, the since-revised and yet unreleased version of “The Dreamer Sleeps without Dreaming.” While I have medication, therapy, a home, with food, and the like, it couldn’t be a more tangible and palpable philosophy, or way of life, until I might decide to change my mind of just get some sleep. If and when (moreover) I’m permanently institutionalized is Cambridge, which will be happening by court order, likely years from now, but it will tie in with this one particular novel I’ve constructed, which will bring some comfort in such an otherwise suffocating imprisonment. Crazy indeed. Unorthodox and all that I am known for both publicly and privately. I am not crazy. I am creatively insane. So, what are my new diagnoses? I’m leaning more toward autism spectrum with trauma, simply said, “Blam. Boom. Blip-flap!” The website Porcelain Utopia is likely to be taken down or parked at least until its termination in 2015. Just as a footnote. I’ll be beginning anew on another platform. Porcelain Utopia has been causing me a great deal of stress maintaining it and keeping it going. So, there it is, for now. Until the next episode.