Wednesday 19 November 2014

How to survive

Today I have decided to inform everyone on how to survive in Mirabili.
First thing you have to do is forget everything you once knew about latin. Not only will this assist when ignoring the words of the priest during the mandatory mass that is held every Sunday. The mass where we are told that all we must do to be healed of all that ails us is to believe in a man who lives in the sky and controls all our lives. It will also enable you to ignore the humour that is presented by the amusing contrast between the name of this place and what it actually is.

Secondly you should either take the pills they give you, or become adept at slight of hand and pocketing them to be disposed of later. If you resist, or are caught disposing of them then you will be placed in the dark box, and mother will treat you to the best of her abilities. Of course her abilities are all centred around the administration of medicine through any means necessary and in restraining troubled patients. It took me many encounters which resulted in my brain feeing fuzzy and my body hurting before I learned how to hide the poisons and dispose of them without being caught.

The next thing you must become adept at is lying. This not only helps when you have to convince the doctors that you are feeling fine and do not need more medicine, but also when one of the other patients insists on talking to you about nothing at all. For example the only thing one can do when the Mad Hatter decides to talk to you for hours about hats is either to actually listen and die from boredom, pretend to be dead already, actually care about hats, or my preferred option, pretend that you have ran out of medication and no longer speak english. Although you may be reported to the Dormouse, it is better to lie to him more than it is to listen to a madwoman talk about hats for days.

Finally you should find a kindly nurse and make sure to associate with them, I have only been able to find one who actually seems to be willing to talk to a phoenix like me. I call her the Gryphon and she is very kind. You should also find a nurse who will be friendly towards you, but not her, she is mine.

Now that you have been told this you should be able to survive here, as long as you do not break any of the secret rules of survival, but I can not tell you about those. The Dormouse is quite clear on the subject of creating militias and arson, and because of that there are too many other rules to list. Since the nurses tell you those rules I do not think it is the best use of my time to tell you about these rules.

Physician's notes
Alice has been cooperating with treatments recently and seems to be on the mend. She is no longer fighting against taking her medicines and has not had to go to the monitoring ward for several days now. Her kitten is growing, and she is letting one of the younger female nurses help her with some parts of the care of the kitten. I will keep monitoring the situation, but I am hoping for Alice to calm more so we do not have to worry about adjusting her medications as much.

Friday 14 November 2014

Meme


What the cat thinks about the physician's most recent advice is quite clear indeed.


Monday 3 November 2014

My favourite poems part one

Sekhmet the Lion-headed Goddess of War

Written by: Margaret Atwood 
He was the sort of man
who wouldn't hurt a fly.
Many flies are now alive
while he is not.

He was not my patron.

He preferred full granaries, I battle.

My roar meant slaughter.

Yet here we are together
in the same museum.

That's not what I see, though, the fitful
crowds of staring children
learning the lesson of multi-
cultural obliteration, sic transit
and so on.


I see the temple where I was born
or built, where I held power.

I see the desert beyond,
where the hot conical tombs, that look
from a distance, frankly, like dunces' hats,
hide my jokes: the dried-out flesh
and bones, the wooden boats
in which the dead sail endlessly
in no direction.


What did you expect from gods
with animal heads?
Though come to think of it
the ones made later, who were fully human
were not such good news either.

Favour me and give me riches,
destroy my enemies.

That seems to be the gist.

Oh yes: And save me from death.

In return we're given blood
and bread, flowers and prayer,
and lip service.


Maybe there's something in all of this
I missed.
 But if it's selfless
love you're looking for,
you've got the wrong goddess.


I just sit where I'm put, composed
of stone and wishful thinking:
that the deity who kills for pleasure
will also heal,
that in the midst of your nightmare,
the final one, a kind lion
will come with bandages in her mouth
and the soft body of a woman,
and lick you clean of fever,
and pick your soul up gently by the nape of the neck
and caress you into darkness and paradise.


Alice's notes
I have discovered that there is a book of poetry that was snuck in by one of the other patents here. They have since succumbed to the influences of the cards and moved off to the secure wing so I now own this novel. Sneaking into their room and stealing an item is basically the same as owning it in the first place anyways. I am going to share my favourites to all of you out there, the Dormouse says that you do not exist and that I am just talking to thin air, but I know you are out there, as does the Cheshire Cat. I hope that you will enjoy these as much as I do, and I will try to read you more whenever I find a good one.
I particularly enjoy the mythological basis for this poem. In Egyptian mythology the goddess Sekhmet was both a fierce warrior, as well as a healer. She had blood on her hands, yet she is also able to heal others. I think she was the one who made the Phoenix possible, the one who healed as well as the one who kills. She could have been the one who set the fire that killed my father, as well as the one who allowed my mind to heal so I did not care for him once he was dead.



Friday 31 October 2014

Phoenix

The Phoenix

My father sat me down a long time ago and told me "Alice, girls are flowers. They are delicate and their only hope to survive is to fit in. You can not stand against men you are only going to get hurt." I believed him and did as I was told, I was a good little girl. I dressed in the clothes he provided, I cleaned, and I cooked, and I showed all men the respect they deserved. 
As the years went by his demands increased, he wanted me to do what needed to be done as my mother stayed in bed carrying yet another one of his children. She was also a good girl, she tried to please him, but she was unable to ever give him a son, or even a child who survived long enough to be born. From her I learned exactly how delicate girls are, she was always pale and tired, her belly swollen with child more often than it was not. These children never survived and my father blamed her delicacy for it. He believed that her inability to carry a healthy child was a disobedience which he punished. Every child she lost resulted in pain until father could once again see her belly swell with another one of his parasites. 
I learned then that to protect myself I had to shut down, I could no longer feel for I did not have time to be anything other than the one who did womanly tasks as my mother stayed in bed too weak to do anything other than sometimes rise to use the chamber pot. 
Then one day it all changed, father came home and yelled the same thing he always did. "Alice, where is my supper?"  I told him that I was just finishing it and he swore at me, stepping forward with a match which he lit and brought up to light his pipe before shaking it out. For once he did not bring the hot ember to my skin, instead choosing to slam a callused palm into my shoulder. The smell of alcohol on his breath was more heavy than it had been the day before, and his hand shook as he brought the pipe to his lips probably thinking of hitting me again. He sat on his chair and pulled out the newspaper as I retreat to the kitchen, both to finish cooking his supper and to avoid his wrath. I shake a small amount of white powder into the beer he always had with his supper, the crushed sleeping pill mixing with the foam and becoming imperceptible. If he just slept then I could have some rest, I could clean the house without having to dodge his blows if he took offence to how I polished the silverware.
He grunted as I placed the meal in front of him, putting his pipe to the side for a moment as he devoured the small portion like an animal and drank his beer as if his life depended on him finishing it in mere seconds. He put the pipe back into his mouth and opened the newspaper once more. I retreated once more to the kitchen with the used dishes, taking out the small stale roll that would serve as my own supper and nibbled on the end knowing that it had to last for a few more days. It was better to feed my father the best food, if not his anger would be even worse. I begin to work on the dishes as I heard my father start snoring, good the pills worked and I will be able to have some measure of peace tonight.
I finish with the cutlery before noticing that there is the smell of smoke in the air, the chimney must be blocked again, it is far too dirty but my father is unwilling to get it cleaned, after all that would take away some of his beer money. I put away the final fork before going out to begin to clean the foyer, my father never takes off his boots and tracks dirt across the house. I stop as I exit the room and a fierce heat engulfs me, there is a rather large fire next to my father's still body, he must not have put down his pipe before falling asleep and the newspaper had served as an excellent piece of tinder. The alcohol that he always spills on himself did not help either, as his clothes were covered in thick flames. 
I run upstairs to my mother's room hoping to be able to get her out. "Mother, we have to get out of here.There is no time to explain." I tell her, she is too weak and tired to be able to think clearly, she has not been able to think fast on the best of days and today is no exception as she simply obeys without question. I help her get out of her bed, her belly swollen with another unwanted child who was draining her energy like they all do. We reach the  stairs before she begins coughing, her fragile lungs overwhelmed by the heat and the smoke. We get partway down the stairs before my mother's leg gives out, her bones are so very brittle from the child within. I try to steady her, but she falls down the steep steps barely having the breath to scream. I scramble down to her and try to help her up, but she is not responding to my actions. I grab her arm and begin to pull her down the hallway to the door as flames lick against my skin. I finally reach the door after what seems like an eternity of pain and pulling, and I try to lift my mother's body out onto the street. I pull for a long moment before realizing that I can not manage to get her over the doorstep because her dress is caught under a fallen piece of timber and all I can do is rip at her dress. After a moment of frantic scrambling the worn fabric of her nightgown tears and I can pull her out onto the street. I kneel down next to my mother and realize that all my work was for nothing, she was already dead and it was my fault for trying to escape my father's wrath for a night. 
A man stops next to me and I notice that there are other men trying to put out the blazing inferno that was the only home that I ever knew. The home that seemed to me to be better than the fires of hell that my father told me I would experience if I did not do as he told me had shown its true nature as another part of hell, a hell with only one demon, one victim, and the child born from it. The man looks down at my mother and places his hand on her in an attempt to find some sign of life. He sighs as he finds none and looks at me. "I am sorry child, but she is with god now. As is the babe she was carrying." He says as he touches her eyes to close them. "But she is in a better place, one where she can be with her husband." He continues thinking I already knew that my father had also died. 
I look up at him my eyes filled with tears from the smoke. "My father is dead?" I ask him and he confirms it, speaking gently as if it might upset me, but all I can think about is the fact that I am free of him. 
It is then that I realize that girls are not delicate flowers, or if they are I am not a girl. I am a phoenix, I went through that fire and I died. I am not my father's daughter for he is dead and with him his child. I am my mother's daughter, I died with her and have been reborn through fire. The man looks at me as I begin to laugh. "He is dead." I shout triumphantly at the sky. "The red queen has been reborn through fire, and the Executioner is dead." I look at the body that used to contain my mother and smile. "And she is free, she is not with my father. He is with the parasites he put within her and they are killing them like they did her." I notice the burns along much of my skin and smile wider even though it pains me to open my mouth. "Look at the fire that wanted to escape." I say before turning to the man. "I am clean, the house is clean, and my mother is clean." 
The man says nothing, or if he did the sound of my own mind drowned him out. I smile as widely as I can before sitting down to watch the fire that had killed me, and that had given birth to me once more.

Friday 24 October 2014

Letter to Lewis Carroll

Alice Liddell
Mirabili 
Room 7(Exactly where you left me)
You monster

Mr L. Carrol (The betrayer)
4 Horseman's way
Apartment building 13

Dear Mr Carrol
The Dormouse said that I should send you a letter to apologize for my previous behaviour. I am not going to do that, it is a stupid idea proposed by a stupid man. Instead I am going to tell you exactly why I will never forgive you and people like you.
Firstly you are a man, and you seem to think like all men do and assume that as a woman I should be happy to be used by you for whatever you want to do. That is not acceptable at all, I am not going to be one of you little toys, and I am not going to let you use me. 
Secondly you are a betrayer of trusts, I told you about what I go through because you said that you understand and that you wished to learn what I thought about daily in hopes of helping other people. I  was reluctant to trust you, after all you had done many things to me to make me wonder if you have honour, but you were gentler than many of the male nurses so I thought that perhaps if I told you about these things you would be satisfied. It was not so, you were just as much of a man as the other ones were and it is not really surprising when I look back upon it.
Thirdly when you had betrayed me further and written that horrid mess you call a book you had come to me as if for approval. You brought me a copy of your little leather bound book as if you wanted me to be happy about it, but there was no reason for me to be content with your actions, you just killed my monsters and replaced them with candy floss constructs without any menace at all.
Finally you talked to the Dormouse as if it was my fault that I was angry at you and that it was not at all due to your betrayal, and you watched as they called Mother to deal with me grinning all the while. You are not worthy of any forgiveness, not from a sane person, and especially not from me.
With sincerest hatred
Alice

Physician's notes
Alice has written yet another note to Mr Carroll, I do not think she is aware of the fact that we do not send these correspondences to him. It is not acceptable to send angry letters from a madwoman to a man of Mr Carroll's position, especially considering the fact that he is one of our most generous benefactors. I have stopped reading these notes at this point and just burn them so that they can not bother anyone ever again. 

Wednesday 8 October 2014

The Hospital Times

The Hospital Times

BREAKING NEWS ABOUT THE ONCOMING ARMY
Alice's continuing madness
By Maddison Hatcher
Our most recent reports have indicated Alice is in a frenzy of recruitment, the mice that frequent this humble establishment have been vanishing left and right, as has the paper usually found in the office printer. It is suspected that she is making hats for the mice and that they are quite tasteful. She is not taking the advice from some more seasoned hat making professionals like she should, but it is difficult to mess up when using paper and not soaking leather in mercury. Her actions are all obviously signs of the impending war, and it is doubtful that any of us are safe. After all once her caterpillars undergo metamorphosis she would be capable of aerial attacks and none of us will be safe.  Now this is all I will be able to write today, we are running out of paper to print on, and Alice is looking at my paper menacingly as if she is already planning what sort of horrid hat to make from it. This is a threat to journalism, as well as the hygiene in the kitchen, and I hope this war is soon over.

Monday 29 September 2014

My life

My life
laudanum
medicine
healing
patient
health
poppy
calm
me

is
their
calm only
poison's
tears

Thursday 25 September 2014

Food Review

Review for the cafeteria here in the hospital
By Alice Liddell
I am no longer going to put up with the deplorable state of the nutritional substances that I am forced to consume here in this place. The horrible food does nothing to dilute the bitter taste of the laudanum that I am forced to take and some days just make it worse.
For breakfast today we were forced once again to eat the abomination that serves as oatmeal. Here is a picture of it in all it's cardboard tasting glory.
This substance has the consistency of wet paper and probably the same nutritional content. I think they just get it from the leftover portions in the bowls and serve it to us the next day. The orange juice they serve with it is filled with pulp and seems to have bits of peel floating in it. The queen says that it is healthy and good for us, but I see her eating the cakes off to the side and if it was so good for us she would probably be eating it as well.



This sad little thing is what passes for a sandwich in here, it is probably made from the weeds in the little pot in the dormouse's office. I would bet that the reason it is considered healthy for us is because they think that just because something is natural it is good for you. I would rather take laudanum without any sugar or water to wash it down than I would eat this thing. I suppose they think that the massive amount of vegetable mush they made it out of would make us forget about the fact that breakfast was just cardboard and orange juice, but it just serves to make us angrier. The Mad Hatter decided that this food would serve better as a hat, and the ensuing food fight  did not do anything to endear her to the cards and the chessmen. She is now in the sedation area, and I suppose she is probably resting and dreaming of hats.

I do not know what new nutrition based warfare they have planned for us for supper, but I do not know if I will be able to stomach much more of this. I think the best thing for me to do now is to start a rebellion against the people in the kitchen in hopes of getting better food. The Cheshire cat and I have already started getting members in our army, only one general has joined so far though and he is being uncooperative when it comes to wearing the uniform. We do have many foot soldiers though, and they are infiltrating this place rather successfully.

Physician's notes
Alice was quite busy today, she has apparently decided that the food is not satisfactory here and wants to start a rebellion. She announced this to me before going off to do what she calls "recruiting" which at this point seems to be her taking caterpillars and attempting to place paper hats on their head so that they are high ranking members of her "army". This has so far been unsuccessful, especially since she has only found one caterpillar. The number of tiny paper hats littering to corridors are a bit alarming, I am wondering if she is somehow releasing mice into the hospital or if it is just another one of her delusions.

Wednesday 17 September 2014

Photographic abominations

Will this hell never end? I have found a new twisted interpretation of my story. The card who keeps bringing things into my room decided that I should get some posters for my room. He is a fool, and I will show you the posters I found when I got back from my little break from reality.
This first one is a poster for a movie that has been created surrounding the inaccurate events in Lewis Carroll's novels. They seem to be portraying my charters as some kind of protagonist who is in the forefront and is actually in wonderland, not a delusional madwoman that the Doormouse tells me I am. This does seem like something that I should keep around though, after all the slogan at the top is something that I feel reflects the state of all of us in this place. After all some days I wonder if I am the crazy one, or if the mad people are the ones in control here. After all they seem just as mad, they are just better at hiding it.

I rather like this one,  even though it is not what the Cheshire cat looks like. He looks like the picture on the right. The interpretation is very interesting though, and they got the facial expression down pat. I really enjoy the use of tea in the front of the cat as well as the look on his face, it makes him seem as menacing as he actually is, not like the people see him as. They all think he is cute and cuddly and this picture makes everyone see how he is in reality. The use of illusion is amazing, even though they have never seen him before and have no idea what he looks like or how he looks. That is all for now, I can not stay here for much longer, the Doormouse said that he is coming to check in on me soon and I do not want to overreact if he says something stupid.

Physician's notes
Alice seems to be very calm,  she did not react violently at all today. I would have thought she would have reacted violently when she saw the posters that the stupid nurse had left in her room. Instead when I went in she was laughing like a hyena and grinning like a fool. I do not know what this means, but it might mean that we are making progress in her therapy and that the doses of Laudanum she is on is enough to make her sedate enough to be reasonable. 













Wednesday 10 September 2014

Physician's notes

Physician's notes
Alice's naming of people has more names that I have just become aware of. Here is an update of the list of naming and who they are associated with.

One of her fellow patients seem to have been given the name if March Hare. This patient is here for massive brain damage caused by an overuse of hallucinogenic drugs and other such substances. Perhaps Alice heard the woman talk about things such as mushrooms and weed, and these combined with her delusions to make her compare the other to a rabbit who consumes such things.

She calls the anesthesiologist mother, I do not know why, nor do I even have any idea what delusion that could come from. Perhaps a mother who used opioids on her children was responsible for some of Alice's mental trauma, but without her background information I am unable to assume anything. It is a pity that the fire in her old institution destroyed all of her records.

Finally I seem to have been given the designation of Dormouse, I do not quite understand why though. Perhaps it is because she sees me as being locked behind a door, or maybe she thinks I am the one in control of letting people out of the door. I do not really know, there are parts of her behaviour that make no sense to me at all.

Musical abominations

I just discovered another layer to the treachery of that man. One of the nurses thought it was a brilliant idea to bring in a music player just to leave it laying out and taunt me with a song. He says that it was just an accident, but I am sure that he is in league with the white queen who wants me to be silenced by their drugs. She supposedly needs me to be, and I quote "A danger to myself and others" before she can fill me full of the poison that makes my head spin and the world seem all fuzzy. The tool she used today was a ridiculously inaccurate song that was based on the horrid book that man wrote about me. This song is called White Rabbit, and apparently a Mr Jefferson Airplane was in cahoots with Mr Carroll and decided to also make some money off of my inability to protest their interpretation of my so called illness. The insulting words to the song are as follows. (I found them by stealing one of the playing card's paintbrushes and sneaking onto the internet. If you do not trust me to have copied them properly just look at the website http://www.azlyrics.com/lyrics/jeffersonairplane/whiterabbit.html. )

                                        
                                             "White Rabbit" By Jefferson Airplane
One pill makes you larger
And one pill makes you small
And the ones that mother gives you
Don't do anything at all
Go ask Alice
When she's ten feet tall

And if you go chasing rabbits
And you know you're going to fall
Tell 'em a hookah-smoking caterpillar
Has given you the call
Call Alice
When she was just small

When the men on the chessboard
Get up and tell you where to go
And you've just had some kind of mushroom
And your mind is moving low
Go ask Alice
I think she'll know

When logic and proportion
Have fallen sloppy dead
And the White Knight is talking backwards
And the Red Queen's off with her head
Remember what the dormouse said
Feed your head
Feed your head

Now then, first things first, the dormouse did not say that. He just guards the door and tries to tell me all sorts of lies to get out. If he tells me anything it is to clear my head and to try to think about what is bothering me. So I am going to do just that, I am going to look at this song and work out exactly why it is bothering me so much, apart from the obvious of course. After all I am supposed to remember what the dormouse said after all.

First thing I am supposed to do is work out how it makes me feel. Before they decided to drug me I felt angry, as well as betrayed. The thing is that now as I remember it in my current state it seems to be familiar and slightly comforting. The disorientation that the contrasting images and strange actions seem to be supposed to cause do not affect me at all, but they do remind me of a time when these delusions as the doctor calls them were more gentle and did not hurt as much. That could just be the drugs talking though, some days I can not tell the difference between my thoughts and those provided by the pills.

If I am to think about how the lines are arranged I notice that they rhyme in a strange way. The  second, fourth, and fifth line of each stanza rhyme, but the rest does not. It is not a common way for normal people to set up poetry at all, perhaps that also adds to the fact that it makes me feel comfortable. The fact that the line where one is told to ask Alice is treated as if it is only part of a line and the line after it seems to be treated as the one with a terminative word instead. It is quite strange indeed, not compared to what is down the rabbit hole, but still strange. Perhaps it is to confuse the listeners to make them feel disoriented so that the message of the song can be heard, or perhaps it is just an attempt to convey a slightly twisted nature to make the song impact more of its listeners. The second theory seems more in line with the vocal choices of the singer.

The song is also interesting in the fact that it seems to be addressed to those who are under the influence of many kinds of drugs, probably hallucinogens like those preferred by the March Hare before she supposedly fried her brain. Is this comparing the world that I see, the so called wonderland that Mr Carroll named to a hallucination caused by poor decisions? It seems as if they are unable to separate reality from fiction and so confuse the two. The idea that smoking, taking pills, or eating mushrooms would allow one into wonderland is absurd, but for some reason they seem to think I would be the guide in this situation. The images of Chessmen telling one where to go is similar to how it is in this place, as is the feeling that the pills can give you, but it seems as if they are speaking of something more pleasurable than being made to sleep. The final stanza sounds as if it is a good representation of wonderland, but it still means nothing. They seem to be sending a message that wonderland is reachable through chemical means and neglect to mention the other problems one would encounter in wonderland.

I would continue, but mother is back with more pills, and the song is very wrong about her. The pills she gives me do things, they make me sleep and they make my mind fuzzy. I wish mother would not force me to take them, but if I do not she will use a needle or the smoke. I do not like those things at all, so I will take the pills. I will just end this by saying that I am tired of these sorts of warped parodies of my life and I wish that I had just killed Lewis Carroll when I had the chance.

Physician's notes
Alice had to be sedated today, one of the nurses had brought in a music player that contained a song that set her off. She completely destroyed the man's mp3 player and then tried to strangle him with the headphones. I don't know why the nurse thought it was a good idea to bring that thing in, he's been reprimanded before for bringing that sort of thing around patients. This encounter has been further proof that Alice is not to be exposed to anything relating to Lewis Carroll. When she is exposed to anything that has to do with her interactions with him, or the book he wrote she becomes agitated and can only be calmed down by a heavy dosage of laudanum. There is a serious likelihood that she could harm herself or another person when she is agitated, as the bruises on the nurse's neck only too clearly shows.




Physician's notes

Physician's notes
Alice's delusions have caused her to make up strange names for the different people around her. I feel it is best for me to make a list of them so that I may understand her rantings later. This may not be accurate, but at least it is a start at unravelling her delusions and may assist in my treatment of her.

She calls the head nurse Queen, reading Mr Carroll's book has lead me to question whether she is the white queen or the red queen, after all depending on how she views the woman we can predict her behaviour and possibly help her.

The nurses can have different names, I still do not understand why. Some of the nurses have the name of Chessmen, there seem to be no gender distinctions almost as if she sees them as the same person. The others are called Cards, they are also not given a gender distinction so I do not see what distinguishes them from each other.

The kitten she has adopted is given the term of the Cheshire Cat. I wonder if she views it as a personification of one of her more benign delusions and for that reason she is able to interact well with it and cares for it so much.

This note will be updated as I discover more about her interactions with people and try to discover why she calls people what she does.

Wednesday 3 September 2014

Greetings humans

Hello everyone, my name is Alice Liddell and I think you have probably heard of me before. There was a man called Lewis Carroll and he decided that he would write a book about me, and I trusted him to tell the truth about the horrors that I experienced every day. That was a mistake, the man took my nightmares and turned them into a childish story full of white rabbits with pocket watches and hedgehog croquet. It's not like I could protest much, it was already published by the time I got my hands on a copy of his lies and there was nothing I could do to stop the spread of his false messages and insane manipulations of the truth. He never comes and visits me, not since I found out about his lies and tried to harm him. I do not know why though, it is not as if I can harm him from behind these walls, and the drugs the nurses give me when I get upset make it hard to care enough to make my body move. I guess he figured that I can not give him any more stories, and that without them I am just another one of the crazy girls in this asylum. They are all wrong though, I am not crazy, the red queen is, and if it was not for her I would never have slid down into this rabbit hole in the first place.

I suppose that I should give you a bit more information about myself, and not get sidetracked talking about the betrayal that I experienced from that man's decision to alter my reality even more than it already was. I have been living in this place for as long as I can remember and they say that I can never get out. I guess the fact that I will never get out does not exactly motivate me to behave, but that is alright. The cat and I have a lot of fun in here, we plan to take out the white queen and her chessmen, and that is a worthy goal indeed. Who will follow the rabbit now, not me that is for sure.

Physician's notes
Alice suffers from delusions and paranoia, which were presumably set off by a childhood incident the nature of which we are unclear of. We have attempted animal therapy with her in an attempt to curb her more violent tendencies and it seems to have helped a bit. She took to one of the kittens so we have housed it in her room after realizing that she would not harm it and treated it well. She talks to him often, which is an improvement to her normal sullen silence. She seems to have made a connection with one of the nurses, she calls her the queen and is more respectful to her than she is to most of the other staff.