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I was 18 when I came to study in Holland. I came on my own as an immigrant with no relatives in the vicinity and things were going allright. Every once in a blue moon I'd and smoke a joint at the local coffeeshop. At some point I fell in love with this girl I was dating, but my Caribbean habits combined with the weed I used to smoke, caused me to mess up my relationship with her. Love sick, I continued to smoke weed every once in a while and then I had a psychosis.

In my psychosis I was running on the street in the middle of the winter without a winter jacket near my student complex. The police saw me, though I was some junky black guy, threw me in the cop car and brought me to jail. I tried to explain to them that my appartment was nearby, but they wouldn't listen. They brought me to jail and there I beat up some white guys and they put me in isolation.

After a while they realized I was sound of mind and brought me to a mental institution. I was violent there as well and I fought with the male nurses (black, white, moroccan and gays). They thre me in isolation as well.

I was in a lot of pain from the medicines, plus I was seeing and hearing things that were not there. At this point I literally thought I had died and gone to hell. I prayed to God, Allah, Jehovah and the flying spaghetti monster for my mom, and in the end a biracial friend of mine who happens to suffer from ADHD managed to track me down in the mental institution, contact my mom and my mom flew over from Curacao to get me out of the mental institution.

Eventually I flew back to Curacao, but in my psychosis I was still in lots of pain, fear and agony so they couldn't control me on Curacao. Because of the bad health care and lack social welfare, again I had to go in a mental institution on Curacao. The mental institutions there are like prison, except the people in there are generally less buff and athletic. I was one of the more athletics ones in there. I fought a lot, beat up a couple of black people, the male nurses in turn kicked my ass and put me in the isolation cell, and eventually the medicines started to kick in and I healed up nicely.

The Jewish lawyers defended me. In my recovery all the women on my Island found me weird and scary and ugly (and said it to my face). The gay guys were more understanding, the younger guys thought my story was cool and the gangsters had more respect for me.

I healed up nicely, went back to Holland, and I'm still studying law and almost finishing my bachelor. I'm currently posting from a clinic for young people who are vulnerable to having a psychosis. All the bitches want me, I want a girl with the attitude and mentality of hermione from Harry Potter (black, white, Asian, doesn't matter. But my preference goes to black).

So who do I blame and who do I thank?

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Op donderdag 6 september 2012 10:42 schreef fathank het volgende:
waarom in het engels ik ben daar niet zo goed in ik wil weten waar die verhaal over gaat want ik moet ook een datingdokter hebben maar wil wel weten of je goeien resensies hebt enzo anders zoek ik wel een andere oke bedankt doei