Psychical Pain-related Social Isolation And The Equation Of Auto-fiction (Another Letter To Marina Diamandis)

Esquirol’s psychiatric hospital, France, Day #26. Am in the army now. The more I stay away from so-called bad best friends, the more I feel inspired and starpowdered. Even when I locate myself in the Future, I realize that I can live without them better than with them, even better without having ever known them than with having known them, which is unfortunately the case. I listen to: MARINA, Marina & The Diamonds, Jean-Michel Jarre, Fishbach. Haven’t felt that half-light, semi-darkness environment since 1990, when I was just a child “dreaming” about The End Of The World. I was a genius then: I previewed the arrival on Earth of Flora Fischbach (as known as Fishbach) — 1990 proxy’s Name: Ludivine; Height: 1.69–1.71 m; Eyes: Blue–Jade; Hair: Brown–Silver; Silhouette: Thin; Attitude: Proud and Fearless; Location: 77 French department. Years ago, in 2017, because of social isolation, drug abuses, and unbalanced Fishbach-related obsessional thoughts, I was about to die in a train accident (persuaded I was Robocop-conceived I jumped on the railways of a station with from the North a train arriving at a speed of 70 km/h and from the South a train arriving at a speed of 140 km/h, provoking chaos and leading part of my entourage to suspect me of Islamic Terrorism-related radicalisation)…

Bla-bla-bla-bla-bla… Since them, I have learnt to balance my consciousness integrating in the loneliness is not bliss’ Equation all that is possible to integrate. I have a Myriad of copies of your minds inside of me — let’s call in first approximation the Myriad “my imaginary friends.” Sometimes it’s hierarchized, sometimes it’s not. When it’s hierarchized, I set MARINA on top (why her? See this former article) and I let myself — without any acting — be impressed by national to inter-continental authorities or non-governmental organizations or cultural movements (for instance: International Women’s Day). Some may call this process ‘Supra-Consciousness (un)achievement’; I prefer instead the term ‘Inner Global Consciousness building’. Recently, main names apart from Fishbach in this exercise have been: French Head of State Emmanuel Macron (for psychological much more than political purposes), Scottish musician and activist Lauren Eve Mayberry (for counterbalancing my let’s say innate misogynistic tendencies…), and visionary musician and thinker Matthew Bellamy.

Another peculiar point is that I have got used to, in order to balance my mental energy, calling by name various former high-level cross-country runners originating from the 77 French department in the 1990’s, with as pivotal point the famous Fontainebleau City’s trainer Thierry Choffin (see this page). In January 1993, for example, we — the Fontainebleau City’s school team — won the French cross-country championships settled in Arras, Northern France. The individual winner of the race was the amazing Melun City school team’s Laurent Vapaille. On the Fontainebleau City school team’s side, I ranked #21; Jérôme Lepommier ranked #22; Richard Sailor ranked #27; and a someone named Axis Abraham ranked #63… Hereafter, many people are gonna think I am really sick; nevertheless, I will try hard to write my report as concisely as possible. In the course of the educational years 1991-1993, whereas there were mainly two names in the National cross-country charts — the abovementioned Laurent Vapaille and the Nemours City team’s Sébastien Baelus (respectively #1 and #2 in the Les Mureaux-settled France school championships, January 1992) — we were many, many irregular outsiders; I have always been convinced (even in these times) that there was a kind of mysterious cybernetic ‘lasso’ or ‘halo’ between us. Let’s go straight to the point: on Friday 6 September 1991, I begun to run really, really fast, and got a strong hypoglycemia crisis. 6 September 1991 is the Flora Fischbach’s birth date. One month backward: 6 August 1991 = public release of the World Wide Web. 8 August 1991: Michelle Blades (former Fishbach’s bassist)’s birth date. Marina Lambrini Diamandis was then 6 years-old. Mark Zuckerberg was then 7 years-old… Coincidences? Metaphysical synchronicities? Fairy-tale ineptnesses? Question: who was dreaming of electrically connected and competing young runners? At least I was dreaming of being as fast as Laurent Vapaille and Sébastien Baelus…

How to land on my feet after such a digression? 1200 mg of lithium, 200 mg of clozapine, and 200 mg of chlorpromazine are now thumping inside of me. The fact that I am really nowadays ‘working’ (i.e., as a civil servant) at the psychiatric hospital is undoubted. I write 1 or 2 ‘papers’ per day, each paper being on average 1-2 A4, 0 spacing, reduced margins, 12-character-sized Microsoft Word’ s pages (articles ‘addressed to’ MARINA are generally much longer… Because She is the One and only!). I systematically and abundantly relay each article on ‘The’ Facebook. I tease and tease and tease my entourage’s persons, e.g., using endlessly the Fishbach first album’s cover as main illustration of my texts in order to let them believe that I am still hang onto my childish Spring 2017, in-the-flesh discovery of Flora Fischbach’s so-called ‘delusions’. I know since Summer 2018 that I am quite socially ruined for not saying totally ‘fucked up’ — just as an example, during all those years, my ‘best’ friend/enemy has almost never invited me in another form than ‘apart’ from the Others — ignoring ‘in the same time’ my sometimes several months- to several years-long depressive phases — and, therefore, reinforcing my feeling of being totally marginalized for not saying ‘disabled’. Almost all the Others fall into line with him. Despite their high-class education and left-sided, right-thinking gentry membership, and because they are trapped in the bubble-jail of their daily, instagramized lives, they cannot, don’t want to look at me in another way than through the prism/filter of my disease, whatever all the efforts I have made to… I will never say ‘cure’ (when you suffer from Bipolar Disorder Type I, even ‘stabilisation’ is extremely hard…). Am I condemned to die in a social low-pressure system of mental sickness-related isolation?! Oh yes I am! Though I am far from having told my last word. I have my Family on my side (even my Father! Not a minor detail…); I have new friends; I have unknown followers; and I have an army of nurses, doctors, and suffering people all around me…

All of that taken into account, and thus considering the fact that I need a high load of mental energy (E) in order to fight my social fate, let’s formulate the following auto-fiction’s equation (blinking emoticons):

E = {(C + c) + i•(TS) + MARINA} / i•A

E is a complex number, which means that my psychic pain-related social isolation leads me to live in a half-dream fragmented reality.

C refers to Consciousness and c to ‘Consciousness’ coach driver’.

TS refers to cyber-Twin Souls (for instance me + Fishbach; or me + 1991-1993 runners; or me + Fishbach + 1991-1993 runners; etc.).

A refers to national to inter-continental authorities.

MARINA refers to Marina Lambrini Diamandis’ music, which means true presence of a Goddess above me; MARINA can take the value of U+221E (+ Infinite).


To be continued. Electra Heart. Power And Control…

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