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The first time I truly stepped into the mystic
For a suspended period
Those close to me watched with amused
Concern

Later on I would find out that this place was called hypo-mania
A lower energy level than mania
Recognized by the p-doc's as a creative place
But also a place of warning

Cause what comes next?
Mania
For me it was spiritual; I was playing in the aether
I was living the Tao; I instinctively called it Source

I was studying to be a scientist at the time
So this didn't make a lot of sense
The data didn't support the hypothesis
Had I just eaten one to many mushrooms as a teenager?

I already had a psychiatrist
I was being treated for ADHD
He had prescribed something called Concerta
An amphetamine; a ******-stimulant

At many points along the journey
I cursed the day I ever heard of psychiatry
I'm sure that the neuro-chemical pathways opened up by Concerta
Had something to do with my awakening

Those first days near Source made me realize I needed some guidelines
Mine were informed by my indigenous heritage
Only take what you need (i.e. sip, don't gulp from the River Tao)
Find your foundation: my rock was integrity, eventually leading to authenticity

Even with these guidelines, I couldn't maintain the healthy place they were calling hypo-mania
I had too much toxicity in the relationships around me
I couldn't fully elucidate what I was seeing and feeling
And my 7 kettles were on a full rolling boil

I was draining myself
I drove myself into madness
I was trying to sip from source and live my truth
But I wasn't honouring the nature of the Tao

It was Helter Skelter:
'So you go back to the top of the slide
And you turn and you go for a ride
And I get to the bottom and I see you again'

Over the next 3 years
I would lay down what I now think of as my
4 pillars; four hospitalizations
Well over one hundred days in the Cuckoo's Nest

The first hospitalization I went happily
I was going to teach and inspire the sickies
It's hard to get healthy in a place of illness, though
I came out still a little hypo-manic but went into a deep, dark depression
After finding out what those around me really thought

The second hospitalization, I went against my will
The doctor's were inconsistent, I found flaws in their logic
They looked at me like I was a flaw
They tried to prescribe health at me; I told them to *******

At that point I was not happy with the Canadian health care system
Health, first and foremost, was a public good
This ******* the individual's rights
I wasn't a danger to myself or others but I was a risk so there goes 70 days of my life

I was fortunate to have the support of some important people
They made sure my finances, among other things, were maintained as I tried to make it back to the ordinary
After my second hospitalization I really began to delve into the idea of holistic healthcare

It was after my second hospitalization that I made my first Hero's Journey
I was playing the role of a white blood cell for Gaia
I had my first three sweats within a month of each other
I met many shaman and I'm pretty sure I began my own residency

I put 10,000 km on my trusty steed
Chasing windmills
Sancho Panza by my side
< --- -- - Vancouver, NYC, Los Angeles, 'da bridge - -- --- >

My third hospitalization was the third act of this Hero's Journey
I was pushing it, reckless; I stopped taking my prescribed medicine
I ended up in the City of Angels of all places
Straight outta Compton!

My fourth hospitalization (and final pillar) was last summer
This time I ended up in Billings, Montana
The American model places the onus of health on the individual
I could have stepped out of that hospital at any point but I now had the wisdom to know what I did and did not need

Even though I speak of four pillars
There is always a fifth element
Her; the one
She woke me up to my soul's purpose

We met shortly before my fourth hospitalization
(You've got to use the fourth, Aaron)
She was a stranger in many ways
Still is but why does she feel so familiar?

She walked me through Dante's Inferno
She had spent time in her own non-ordinary reality
She left behind a map and published it
Through her bravery, I was able to find my way out of the inferno

And through her bravery, I was able to publish my map
http://www.bipolarorwakingup.com/
december Mar 2016
My hands shake so much that every time I touch glass, it breaks and leaves blood running through the lines in my palms.
This has happened so often that my psychic tells me she's unable to tell my future because the lines in my hands are so stained that they can't be read anymore.
You see, what she's really trying to tell me is that my psyche is so damaged from lack of oxygen due to drowning in this anxiety.
So don't you dare call this femininity because it isn't very womanly to crave unconsciousness any time I'm alone.

If femininity is synonymous with being beautiful then tell me how it's beautiful to have attempted to die twenty-one times,
Or how two hospitalizations lead me out of the waters of my depression but yet still left me drowning in the ocean with anxiety.

This is not feminine and this is not beautiful, this is my mother screaming that I'm crazy and my father claiming "we're only doing this because we love you,"
This is my anxiety and I in a water-filled box that decreases in size until my head is crammed against the top and the only way I can go is down,
This is my anxiety tied like bricks to my ankles with the sole purpose of holding me under;
This is NOT womanly or feminine or beautiful.

So I beg of you, do not refer to me with metaphors about bodies of water because I don't need a reminder to let me know I'm drowning,
My ****** hands tell me enough about that.
Thomas W Case Feb 2023
There is a road to
sorrow.
The pain is palpable;
it involves
drugs, *****, and
bad women.
It ends with
life under a bridge.
There are lots of
hospitalizations.
It's hell on earth.
Seizures and sickness.
Love was my
haven, but I lost it.
I left ME behind.
Check out my you tube channel where I read poetry from my recent book, Seedy Town Blues Collected Poems, available on Amazon.com
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HOkjvj7dhyk
PEARL SMOKE Jan 2015
How many has it been,
One, 2, Three?
How Many Outpatients
More Than 9.
How many hospitalizations
Like 2
How many therapist
7
Phycatrist, counselors, etc ?
So So many.
Here I am going once again for the
Fourth time
To residential rehab.
They say I need more time
For a mind so ill like mine.
6 months or a year
To be fine.
The frustration that I get from not able to do right
Tournaments me
I kust want to be set free and fly
Part I

Dan was a great example and a Christian
He went to Church every Sunday and uplifted the community with a great personality
But he had a secret he never wished he had to hide
He liked guys
No matter how much he tried to like Women
He went back to his old habits
He tried everything in the book to turn
But nothing had ever worked
So his future was a growing concern
After months and months on end without an answer
He decided he'd amount enough courage to come out to everyone
But he soon found out that the people hes known for years that always welcomed him with a wide smile were not turning their backs with an intense stare
And the people who were there for him before didn't really care
His parents refused to talk to him until he became straight
He couldn't handle all of this emotional weight
So he decided he'd do the world a favor and  end it late
At night
When they found out he'd killed himself
The community erupted with freight
They weeped and cried
They prayed and prayed
But nothing could bring him back.
Their minds not had the image of him in it everywhere they'd go
And now they know
Not to reject anyone in the future
As they realized they were the ones who committed the Sin.

Part II

Christina was the sweetest Christian girl to ever grace the earth
She never said a bad thing to say about anyone
And always stayed true to her word
She loved reading forewords
And was a great student in all of her classes.
She was loved by the masses
But as she grew up into a teenager
She realized that Boys didn't ignite her hart like Girls did
And she wanted to know if something was wrong with her
Worrying that she'd be sent to Hell despite all her goodness
For thinking about holding hands with another woman
She was constantly distraught
She couldn't keep her lovers away from her parents
Because she'd be caught
Red-handed.
She was trying to avoid being reprimanded
For being who she was
As the weeks dragged on
She couldn't take it anymore
Her all bad behavior in school greatly concerned hr parents
And they had no clue on what to do with her
She then admitted to her parents one night
After an intense argument
That she liked Girls instead of Boys
And she didn't feel ashamed of it
With her held up high and the confidence of a large statue
Her parents grew silent and stood there blankly for a moment
And up-roared in anger, insisting that she leaves the House
Screaming at her that she is going against God's will
And that she will be sent to Hell until she comes back
Admitting she was wrong and liked Boys
But that never moment never came.
Christina pursued her own life after many years of hard struggle and drugs, she finally found someone who was looking out for her the whole time.
After all the lost jobs, unpaid bills, and hospitalizations from binge drinking and drugs
She decided to end her frantic ways
When she realized her only friend's dismay
As she cried when she woke up from the Hospital bed the last time
Being hugged by the fact she was alive from it all
At that point, her heart grew tall
Registering the concept for the very first time
After that moment, Christina knew.
She asked her best friend to date her
And not too long afterwards, they were married.
Just like what Christina dreamed of in her teenage years, it was with a Girl.
This is not meant to offend Christians in any way. This poem was written to point out a common problem and to showcase the poor choices people can make. I'm not attacking Christians in any manner, just to clarify. I respect all Religions equally when they do things right. All good things have their flaws. I wrote this to help fix a common problem among Christians, so they can become better people for God and progress as people. Like i said, no hatred, just love! If you're Christian and you understand, you have my deepest thanks. I'm just a Deist with Christain beliefs incorporated who wants happiness for all. :)
Heidi Franke Jul 2022
The Illness

You spend exponentially
All services of every cell in your body
For years
To keep an ill one alive

Possible prolonged moments of happiness and hope
trickle in
Between the hospitalizations

Your spending is what you find out
He doesn’t trust.

What one finds out
Is ones unprepared-ness
My son wants to claim his life
For himself, to which could be his end or not.

Like the breaking egg, beak first
Or sunlight cracking through trees
Where light comes out and gives birth
With uneven decisions
Will I live?
And what IS living with a chronic diease like?

What he believes is not that he doesn’t trust you,
He just wants to trust himself.
What other choice in the insanity defense is there
That would be as human, then giving freedom of choice to him.
Illness Trust Paranoia
Boaz Priestly Dec 2015
I've had kind of a love/hate relationship with Katy Perry since middle school. Ya know, back when there were Heely's, and all of the students listened to Hot and Cold over and over again.

Back then, though, I was just discovering Marilyn Manson, and that was pretty much all I listened to. I was angry. And just lonely.

But, then, I heard Firework. It was just the audio at first. Probably on the radio. I was intrigued by the song. It resonated within me in a way that not many things had in a very long time. So, after hearing the song on Z100 a couple more times, I YouTubed the song.

Of course, that was before I got my own laptop. So, I sat out in the living room, on my mom's laptop, and just sobbed pretty uncontrollably while watching the music video over and over again.

The song, and video, really helped me to feel better about myself.

Around this time, I was also pretty heavily into my "emo" phase. Like, the Black Veil Brides tee, ripped skinny jeans, a horribly dyed fringe, and that ever-present black nail polish. I kept telling my mom that I wanted to change my name to Raven.

This was also before I came out as transgender. But, Raven is a pretty androgynous name. And, I really connected with the character from Teen Titans with the name Raven. I idolized her. I connected with her very heavily. I wanted to be her. Because, even though she was different and reserved, she had friends that loved her and accepted her for who she was.

I didn't have that. With my friends, I did to an extent. But, at home, it was just bad all around.

Cue Katy Perry and Firework.

I listened to the song so much. It was my go to when things were really bad at home. The song kept me going. In a way, the message behind it, kept me alive.

So, really, this song gave me the courage to be myself.

I listened to it a lot before I did finally come out as transgender.

But, then, I stopped listening to it. Because, I wasn't allowed to be myself in my house. I mean, my own mother didn't take me seriously until I tried to **** myself. Actually, more than a year and half, and two more hospitalizations later, she's still pretty bad about it.

Then, last night, I listened to this song for the first time since coming out. And, I sobbed. Like, full on head to the desk, fingers gripped in hair, sobbing.

I didn't realize how much I had missed this song. But, I did realize how far I have come from that scared sixteen year old girl that told her mother she was a boy. I have come so far. I really have. And, even though things seem bad right now, they will get better. I will get better. I will keep on growing as a person. I will stay alive. I am going to do this for myself. I owe this to that sixteen year old girl standing in her kitchen, fists clenched, and tears rolling down her cheeks.
the blood is pooling down my wrist
and pills bubbling in my throat
i cannot live a life like this
i cannot go on with life holding me captive.

the scars don't hold enough
to make me stop cutting
the hospitalizations don't weigh enough
for me to stop trying

i will win this battle with
acetaminophen
i will win, the devil's will lose

or is it the other way around
you talked me into it
your stupid ******* words and all their carelessness
wash it down with liquor
you know it's worth nothing
to say i love you

the words don't come as slow as they used to
a little bit of knowledge will destroy you
i'll miss the music
i'll miss the days
i'll miss waking up to sunrise
and you delivering my pills
i'll miss you caring every single second of the day
i'll miss you hoping i'll be okay

but this time i wont
this time i can't stay
because a boy destroyed me,
shattered my already broken core

all that will be left
is bones
Heather Butler Dec 2010
As I flip the calendar page,
I think back to everything which has happened
throughout this year.
So close to the end, I cannot help but think
about those things which changed me.
Like those hospitalizations,
for depression, they said;
for bipolar, they said;
and all those medications.
And now, they have me half-asleep,
a waking zombie,
because they don't want me getting paranoid.
I miss that black cat.
And I miss getting giddy about the faces in the night.
November, you leave me
changed.
Heather Butler; 2010
Dylan Jul 2015
In that first moment
I knew something was different.
Maybe I was high,
but as I passed by
I noticed how her eyes
wrapped 'round the other side,
and her face gently curved
beyond what I observed.
As I wandered through the store,
I forgot what I came in for.
What I had seen
I couldn't believe:
is this what they mean
when they say "beauty?"
I noticed the ring on her finger,
the piercing in her nostril,
the color of her eyes,
her lips,
her smile,
the sound of her voice
as she bid me good day.

The next day I returned.
The automatic door opened,  
she turned
studied my face.
A smile, then back to work.

"I like your shirt. Are you from Philadelphia?" She asked,
referencing the Philadelphia Folk Festival shirt.
"No, thankfully."

Should I have told my experience of Philadelphia?
Of psychosis bordering on dementia,
of raw confusion and terror,
of stupid decisions compounded with error,
of hopes and expectations,
of my inability to maintain relations?

"Seems like a fun event to see."
"Yeah, it was wild."
"Did you travel all the way out there just for it?"
"No, I worked production."
"Oh, how cool! Would you like a receipt."
"No."
"Have a good day."
"You too."

The next morning I needed coffee,
and a few things for lunch,
and a way to strain
the massage oil I was infusing.
Again, as the automatic door
parted she greeted me as before.
A moment of careful study
before eyes a-flash with recognition
and a warm smile I did my best to return.
I grabbed my things and came to the aisle.
There they stood chatting.
I heard snippets of words,
but I'm not one to intrude
"Sorry for the real talk" she said.
"That's the only way to talk." I nodded my head

I didn't say how my past few weeks
contained realer words than I heard them speak,
how I had to navigate the alleys
of bickering and emotional valleys,
of overdoses and institutionalizations,
of kidney failures and hospitalizations.

"So what are you making...?" she trailed on.
"Oh, pasta or something." My response.
"Pasta and...jelly?" She asked pointing to the cloth
so aptly labelled jelly cloth.
"Nah, man, I've got to filter the coconut oil.
I infused some herbs into the oil.
Now I have to get them out."
"That makes sense. I remember you buying the oil.
Isn't coconut oil amazing?"
"It truly is a miracle."
I can't place the look in her eye.
Do I remind her of another guy?

And while I'd like to get to know her
I've learned to be cautious with a stranger.
'Cause you never really know
from where they're coming
or where they'd like to go.
Maybe I'll head back tomorrow,
buying bread or lord only knows,
but I've been strung along,
strung out,
hung up
to dry
too many times
to have the audacity
to try.
Willow weep for me tells the struggle of one woman's journey out of realms of depression, despair, loneliness, betrayal, and heart break. I can relate to allof these I do not think that there is any medication, or therapy in this world that will endthis vicious cycle of depression. Little wonder Edgar Allen Poe and Ernest Hemingway took their own lives because what peace did they ever receive. I wish they would let this poetobtain sweet rest and peace in the everlasting arms of the Lord. The heartbreak, betrayal, mulitiple hospitalizations I have  had over the years and tiresome. I am quite ready to end my poet's journey.
Paola M Mar 2014
I left a trail of tears in the universe,
starting from the examination bed where my mother
gave birth,
to the linoleum floor of my high school bathroom,
i've been taught that every teardrop needs a written excuse,
because "sad" can't be something that i just "feel"
some mornings, i wake up and my body is an anvil,
intent on staying in bed instead
of dropping on someone's head, my heart is heavier
than bags of sand, i've tried to build a castle.
only to have the waves bring it down, bring it back to sea,
because the depression is hard to fight when your only
weapons are pills and untouched skin,
i've been told that it's my own fault for letting the sadness in.
it's my own fault that i can't laugh without my lungs
cracking from the rust, like a tin man with no heart,
i've followed the yellow brick road countless times,
meal plans, therapists, prozac, hospitalizations, treatment centers, god,
but none of them work as well as digging my heels into the ground
and telling myself, "you are here. you were born from the stars,
there is a galaxy inside of you. breathe with the universe, just breathe."
on countless days, my skin became a blank canvas, my
toolbox filled with razors and thumb tacks,
but on my drive home yesterday, the moon was bright red,
and i learned that even planets have to bleed sometimes. she poured herself
out like red wine, but tonight she is going to be reborn, white
as a wedding dress,
I do.
I do.
I do promise to love you on the days when
you can feel your bones caving in, on the days when
even your fingers feel too heavy, i promise to treat
each of your scars like roadmaps, showing you where you've been,
the scratches on your shoulders, the bruises on your chest,
the fading marks on your wrists and hips, they are not the definition of your future.
on the mornings when the light is hard to see behind the dark, place your
hand over your heart.
and count.
one beat, two beats, three beats, four.
they are as infinite as the number of stars, each beat is
a reason for you to stay.
you've spilled bottles of prescriptions into your hands,
and held your future in your palms,
but you've still gotten up.
you were on a first name basis with rock bottom,
but still you got up.
and don't you think that there's a reason
behind why your spine is still straight
despite the hours you spent curled up in a ball, praying for it to all go away.
don't be ashamed when strangers give you weird looks or ask you to stop
when you cry over the feeling of sunlight dancing over your skin.
these are the good tears, these are the tears that i don't need excuses for.
so please shut the hell up and let me drown the universe if i have to,
because the night before i wanted to die,
but this morning i woke up and felt the air coming in through
my nostrils and filling my lungs, and i'd never felt more eternal.
Dori Sep 2017
I think what people don’t understand about what I’m going through is that it’s not a connection I’m able to bond with someone over. It’s not like asking about the weather.
I ******* hate the weather.
I mean I love the weather.
But how do you talk about the rush of swallowing rain drops like honey, sitting at the bottom of your tea…to someone who’s protecting their eyes from the sun?

See, my anxiety isn’t cool.
Or beautiful.
Or poetic.
It’s my boss asking how I’m doing and me telling her “I’m tired, but I’m doing good”. It’s her asking if I’ve ever tried melatonin at night to help me sleep.
It’s me saying “Yeah, once or twice” and meaning “I’ve been taking narcotics since I was 16, but I had to ween myself off of them because I’m too nervous to call the pharmacy back”.
It’s not that I don’t sleep. 

It’s that I won’t sleep.

Because I can’t sleep.

Because these voices plant seeds in the dark patches of soil underneath my eyes and I have to let them grow or else I might die. 

It’s not that I haven’t tried sleeping, it’s just that sleeping is hard when you know you have to wake up the next morning.

People don’t understand that wearing the same hoodie for 4 days and not leaving my room for 3, isn’t because I’m lazy or unorganized.
It’s because I haven’t found the motivation to look for the keys that unlock the chains around my ankles that have me shackled to my bed.

Please don’t ask me to go to lunch with you, I won’t be able to sit and have a conversation with you for longer than 10 minutes before I say “I have to go to the bathroom, I’ll be right back”, and that isn’t me using the toilet for anything other than bowing my head in shame, as I throw up the poison and acid in my stomach that I pretended was food.
You’ll ask me “Is that all you’re going to eat? You barely ate anything” and I’ll smile and say “Yeah I wasn’t really that hungry. I had a big breakfast….3 days ago”.

My arms are not an optical illusion.
But if you look at them long enough, I’m sure you’ll see the words to my poems written between the lines.
Don’t ask me about them because I’ll want to tell you about how I never listened to my mom when she told me not to run with scissors.
But I won’t.
I’ll butter it up and tell you that The Lion King is my favorite movie and that my cats name is Scar.
But you’ll tell me you never really liked cats, you’re more of a dog person.

I’m not quiet.
It’s just that most of the time I don’t have anything “socially acceptable” to talk about.
I’m not quiet, I’m not tired…well I am tired.
Jesus **** I’m always so ******* tired. But I’m aware.

I think that’s what a lot of people don’t understand. 


My story isn’t written in ink on pretty piece of stationary. 
It’s not squeezing a stress ball because I have an exam at 8 in the morning. 
It’s not wearing all black.
It’s not eating almonds for dinner.
It’s not heartbreak. 
It’s not falling leaves or stars in the sky.
It’s summer, spring, fall and winter all ******* in a nest of knots, sewn together with every vein in my body.
It’s 7 journals, in 6 months with 27 suicide notes, 4 hospitalizations and a dozen different letters I’ve written to the voices inside my head.
It’s 13 pills a day kissed by bottle of wine every night.
It’s not a symbol of beauty, it’s a form of torture.
And that’s what people don’t understand.
But my job isn't to make you understand it..my job is to make sure I survive it
Qualyxian Quest Aug 2023
mom
I'm kind of a joke
Endless hospitalizations
Trouble taking care of myself
Afraid all the time

I like Eliade
And Encounters with Chinese Hermits
St. Stephansdom Cathedral
Bruno's exoplanets

Star Trek is inspiring
So is the Batman
I spend a lot of time alone
Truly: exoplanets!

It ain't over yet, mom
Please intercede for 3
Please xie xie ni
Please we

                  Oui.
Qualyxian Quest Dec 2018
Dogen in meditation all through the night
Udon and shabu shabu we ate
I from hospitalizations I return to fight
Fall 7 times, rise up 8.
Qualyxian Quest Apr 2019
Dogen in meditation through the night
Shabu Shabu we silently ate

I from hospitalizations return to fight
Fall 7 times, Rise up 8
You think you deserve something but life slaps you upon the head and throws you down reminding you that after all you've doneyou don't deserve ****
I had a strokeabout a week ago and there as a possibility of me getting to go home today instead of tomorrow but my blood level dropped to an undesirable rate this causing me to have to stay longer missing my oldest sisters funeral. I thought I would get to go buy that's was just life toying with my emotions again. I have a constant thought on"You don't deserve to be happy Ben!You don't deserve happiness. You can't pretend to be a good guy every now and then. it's such a disappoint to know I could've made my love better but now with all these life threatening hospitalizations and not knowinghow long I have left to live it just leaves me with such disappointment. I've always wished I could restart my life over andbe a better man but I know that's impossible just another disappointment that I get to live with I use to lash out in anger but that isn't going to change anything and it's a waste of time
I experienced astrokelast week and b it had brought so much annoyance and disappointment to my mind yet again because I was taken off a medication to soon because of an oversight of some clinic nurses and now I have a mind to sue them because of their **** up I could've died this time
Jimmy Kudo Nov 2023
I do enjoy the reactions
The sporadic moments of passion
The aurora borealis reflecting the northern hemisphere of your shiny forehead
The subtle moments of laughter followed by
The frustration of a lost conversation
We morphed into swans! But our vision remains myopic
Stuck on 90’s music and the people that bop it
But I ask you
What would you do if there were a Yeerk invasion?
And suddenly I was replaced by a man who craves for more varied stimulation
A host of my own present day born with
A constant fear of hospitalizations…
Will we stand tall the like broken lights in Huber heights
Or sit short, like a February photo of a Concorde cohort
We’ve come a long way from steak and shake
If only I met you before you left
Salisbury road  
Perhaps we wouldn’t feel as pressured  
A young crazy couple clinically betrothed  
The Bronze mark
Of our missed altruistic assignments
Briefly compliment the warning hue
Of Buick brake lights.
After all, without signals
How can you tell
When it’s time to turn in
If you never say goodnight
VAERS COVID Vaccine
Adverse Event Reports

Reports from the Vaccine Adverse Events Reporting System. Our default data reflects all VAERS data including the "nondomestic" reports.
All VAERS COVID Reports
US/Territories/Unknown
1,437,273 Reports Through October 7, 2022

31,470
Deaths

180,382
Hospitalizations

136,809
Urgent Care

208,368
Doctor Office Visits

10,087
Anaphylaxis

16,140
Bell's Palsy

5,095
Miscarriages

16,891
Heart Attacks

53,114
Myocarditis/
Pericarditis

58,847
Permanently Disabled

9,133
Thrombocytopenia/
Low Platelet

34,395
Life Threatening

45,080
Severe Allergic Reaction

14,880
Shingles

https://openvaers.com/covid-data
Qualyxian Quest Mar 2021
Sunset in San Francisco
Shabu Shabu we all ate

Dogen through the nighttime
Alone to meditate

I return from hospitalizations
Destiny, not Fate

Fall 7 times
Rise up 8.
Researchers from Mexico’s National Institute of Cardiology pored over 28 studies published throughout January 2017—16 randomized trials and 12 post-marketing case series—pertaining to the three human papillomavirus (HPV) vaccines currently on the market globally. In their July 2017 peer-reviewed report, the authors, Manuel Martínez-Lavin and Luis Amezcua-Guerra, uncovered evidence of numerous adverse events including life-threatening injuries, permanent disabilities, hospitalizations, and deaths reported after vaccination with GlaxoSmithKline’s bivalent Cervarix vaccine and Merck’s quadrivalent or nine-valent HPV vaccines (Gardasil and Gardasil 9).

A 2012 study published in BioMed Central outlined this point quite clearly when it found that “Intramuscular injection of alum-containing vaccine was associated with the appearance of aluminum deposits in distant organs, such as spleen and brain where they were still detected one year after injection. Both fluorescent materials injected into muscle translocated to draining lymph nodes (DLNs) and thereafter were detected associated with phagocytes in blood and spleen.”

“Despite their long use as active agents of medicines and fungicides, the safety levels of these substances have never been determined, either for animals or for adult humans—much less for fetuses, newborns, infants, and children.” – Jose G. Dorea, Professor at the University of Brasilia’s department of nutritional sciences.
Cedric McClester Oct 2020
By: Cedric McClester

It’s not the doctors
Anymore
Cuz Trump’s in charge
And that’s for sure
He wants a comeback
To ignore
The actual science
He believed in before

The numbers are going
Through the roof
The hospitalizations
And deaths are the proof
He’s always been
The enemy of the truth
While Doctor Fauci
Is a coronavirus sleuth

The Faucis of this world
Rely on the data
While Trump pretends
That it doesn’t matter
It’s his turn at bat
And he’s the batter
For the American public
Nothing could be sadder

Trump thinks that he can
Talk it out of existence
We can tell by his constant insistence
That we’ve turned the corner
Because of passive resistance
Never mind the mask
And keeping social distance
Cuz we’ll have a vaccine
Long before Christmas








Cedric  McClester, Copyright © 2020. All rights reserved.
Qualyxian Quest May 2020
Dogen in Meditation
All through the Night

Shabu Shabu we ate

I from hospitalizations
Return to fight

Fall 7 times. Rise up 8.
Qualyxian Quest Sep 2020
Dogen in silent meditation all through the night
Shabu Shabu in Boston we ate

I from hospitalizations return to fight
Fall 7 times; Rise up 8!

— The End —