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[center][url=http://heaven-help-us.proboards.com][img]http://i54.tinypic.com/33kcgtt.jpg[/img][/url][/center][blockquote][blockquote][blockquote][/blockquote][size=1][font=times new roman][size=5][i]welcome to blue river institution[/size][/font][/i]

it's immaculate here. you won't find comfier chairs. the fine, ornate carpeting. the art and the decor and everything else about the place is thought-inducing. and don't lie, you did stop and think, 'why is it like this?'. because even if you lie, the top-of-the-line polygraph detector will soon prove you wrong. even the straitjackets are as good as it gets, even though you thrash, fail and flap, you've got deluxe leather holding you in. even the label tells you. 'high-quality.' so why is it you don't feel high-quality? everything in the place is high. the ceilings, so when when you cry out at night, it gives you room. the expectations are high, too.  make yourself better, aim for higher goals. give blue river institute a good name. appreciate it here, you couldn't have it better. your parents sure think so. maybe they come once a month. or once a week. speaking of high, the beds are high, too. maybe you like it. if not, you can't change it. you can't change anything. everything here is perfect, it seems, but here's the catch: it's not your choice.

but you're not alone here, no matter how much it feels like it. ward after ward of young adults. they're filling the gap. the children's clinics aren't the spot for you because you're over sixteen. but the adult ones won't take you because you're under twenty-one. congratulations, you're the overlap. that people that don't fit in, and i'm not talking about socially. be proud, right?

even if you're only here for a 'misunderstanding.' we know, the razor just slipped and fell on your wrist repeatedly over three years. you won't do it again. but it's not just you, you're with them too. the addicts, the pushers, the psychopaths. and the theory is to round them all up, put them together, and cure them. okay? here we go. let's surround them with like-minded people. everything will be okay.

the reality is is that it doesn't work. the reality is that drugs still get in. you know the guy that visits the blonde three rooms down? yeah, he's not really her brother. that's her dealer. he gives her coke and she gives him handjobs. if you're shocked, you're obviously new. the reality is that around here, people have connections, money and nothing left to lose. the reality is that the place is like a fucking pharmacy. the reality is that it's not only drugs they put in here, it's the antidepressants. i mean, when you take five times the recommended dose they actually start to work, claims the skinhead in room seven. then he takes two more, offering some to you. he's in a good mood, you think. he didn't charge you. well the reality is is that he'll charge you next time. he's good at stealing things, but he doesn't like to waste his time.

you have to be tight with the nurses. really tight. money works. money always works. the place is expensive, and you know that. especially your parents know that, they tell you every time they're here. 'you better get well soon, the money we're putting into this place...' mhm, we know. they probably think of it more than they think about you. maybe they care. who knows. no one will believe you anymore. the good people are lost in a sea of pathological liars, sociopaths and creeps. the reality is is that it gets harder when everyone has a label.

but it gets better, right? if you keep fighting. keep going. everyday's better than the last. you have a bright future ahead of you. you can contribute to society. you can battle whatever 'disease' or 'disorder' you've got. you can have a fulfilling life.

the pamphlets say it, so it must be true.[/blockquote][/blockquote][/size]
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invision free:
[align=center][url=http://heaven-help-us.proboards.com][img]http://i54.tinypic.com/33kcgtt.jpg[/img][/url][/align][ul][size=1][font=times new roman][size=15][i]welcome to blue river institution[/size][/font][/i]

it's immaculate here. you won't find comfier chairs. the fine, ornate carpeting. the art and the decor and everything else about the place is thought-inducing. and don't lie, you did stop and think, 'why is it like this?'. because even if you lie, the top-of-the-line polygraph detector will soon prove you wrong. even the straitjackets are as good as it gets, even though you thrash, fail and flap, you've got deluxe leather holding you in. even the label tells you. 'high-quality.' so why is it you don't feel high-quality? everything in the place is high. the ceilings, so when when you cry out at night, it gives you room. the expectations are high, too.  make yourself better, aim for higher goals. give blue river institute a good name. appreciate it here, you couldn't have it better. your parents sure think so. maybe they come once a month. or once a week. speaking of high, the beds are high, too. maybe you like it. if not, you can't change it. you can't change anything. everything here is perfect, it seems, but here's the catch: it's not your choice.

but you're not alone here, no matter how much it feels like it. ward after ward of young adults. they're filling the gap. the children's clinics aren't the spot for you because you're over sixteen. but the adult ones won't take you because you're under twenty-one. congratulations, you're the overlap. that people that don't fit in, and i'm not talking about socially. be proud, right?

even if you're only here for a 'misunderstanding.' we know, the razor just slipped and fell on your wrist repeatedly over three years. you won't do it again. but it's not just you, you're with them too. the addicts, the pushers, the psychopaths. and the theory is to round them all up, put them together, and cure them. okay? here we go. let's surround them with like-minded people. everything will be okay.

the reality is is that it doesn't work. the reality is that drugs still get in. you know the guy that visits the blonde three rooms down? yeah, he's not really her brother. that's her dealer. he gives her coke and she gives him handjobs. if you're shocked, you're obviously new. the reality is that around here, people have connections, money and nothing left to lose. the reality is that the place is like a fucking pharmacy. the reality is that it's not only drugs they put in here, it's the antidepressants. i mean, when you take five times the recommended dose they actually start to work, claims the skinhead in room seven. then he takes two more, offering some to you. he's in a good mood, you think. he didn't charge you. well the reality is is that he'll charge you next time. he's good at stealing things, but he doesn't like to waste his time.

you have to be tight with the nurses. really tight. money works. money always works. the place is expensive, and you know that. especially your parents know that, they tell you every time they're here. 'you better get well soon, the money we're putting into this place...' mhm, we know. they probably think of it more than they think about you. maybe they care. who knows. no one will believe you anymore. the good people are lost in a sea of pathological liars, sociopaths and creeps. the reality is is that it gets harder when everyone has a label.

but it gets better, right? if you keep fighting. keep going. everyday's better than the last. you have a bright future ahead of you. you can contribute to society. you can battle whatever 'disease' or 'disorder' you've got. you can have a fulfilling life.

the pamphlets say it, so it must be true.[/ul][/size]
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