My beta is running hot; Dr. Steve, my brain's fixer upper, thinks that I need a moment with someone who might help my psyche, another therapist. The "poor boy" will learn that it is its it. It has been twenty five years in the making; I do believe my brain's construct is what it is. For five years the system sentenced me to therapy for sexual deviant behavior. Think about it for a moment; you just got out of the joint; you need space so that you can find some sense of equilibrium. And the system turns you over to the cuckoo's nest. And every session -weekly, you get to listen to people dump all over you. That is right; you have to sit there and listen to the delusions that these poor lost souls have to endure. I would come out of those sessions in such a depressed state of mind. They wanted me to uncover the deep dark devil living inside of me, the devil that made me do it. That is what they wanted me to talk about, what was it that made you to want to do such a vile thing. No one ever thinks that you are innocent. If, you think that you are innocent, then the system will label you as being delusional. Why is this so? Because, you are in therapy; this is the world of labels. Within those five years I had many therapists; each one processed me according to their mind's eye; the labels mounted up, so that today, I can boast that I'm all over the board. For you see, my labels say that my labels have labels; that is how disturbed I am. Anyway, I have Debbie's Corner to go to if I have an itch that needs to be scratched. Plus, Steve's problem is that he has to find a way to shut off my hot -beta.