When I first heard of this patient, Mr. Tschtche, he was being
hospitalized in the Sanitorium de Orange outside of Hamburg. He
had been staying there for over eighteen months. As I was looking
for subjects on which to find case materials for a study into the
area of delusions, a former student of mine wrote me and told me
of this patient and thought I would find interest in him.
Upon arriving I arranged to interview this Mr. Tschtche. The
orderlies brought the patient inot the room and after looking
around and investigating his surroundings he sat in the chair
across from me. He appeared calm, a striking feature that I
noticed was the absence of any body hair. He was cleanly bald,
lacking any facial hair, nor eyebrows or eyelashes. After
catching myself staring I began to ask him several questions to
test his responses.
"How are you today, Mr. Tschtche? How are you feeling?
A: Now that you have replied to my answers I will show you my
dreams of surrcumspection of cannonades.
"What do you mean? Do you see what others call unreal?"
A: All I ever see are two and seventeen unbaptised girls
hearalding all creation to rejuvenate certain stars.
"Sir, Do you know who you are and where you reside?"
A: Yesterday, I was the separation of siamese across sorrow's
brow where I no longer ridicule my claim to a fraternal heart,
never of trainable corruption.
At these responses I broke off the interview so that I could
study these complex components for any constructions I could use
to ground this dear sir within reality. After taking several
moments to collect my thoughts and I came to the idea that within
this man's mind his answers had a correlation with the questions
I had put to him. I realized that in truth there were no starting
points from which I could pursue or discover normalicy within
this man. I would need to let him guide me to the monuments of
his curiosity within his dominating necropolis. At this time I
again initiated a question and continued taking notes on his
responses.
"Were you disturbed by the silence when I stopped
talking?"
A: The chorus of impure remorse awoke me at the Gemini hour in
the wakeful glance of immediate fetters.
"Why have you been placed in this sanitorium?"
A: My malady prepares many forms in all these forms number the
hairs on my head. The reticent calamity that prevails comes to
each of us in time wandering chorelessly among cities of
paleness. It swarms in through the nameless orifices to challenge
man for the damnable treaties of clandestine garrotes. There is
no safety given by the church when all who are not shorn give no
heed to those that call to the moon has given birth to within the
uncleanable nurseries. It will be for all as when the Riders of
the Black Chalice rode down on the walls of Jerusalem and
tortured all those infallible follicles of Christendom. Only
those that remain clean of the knots and shackles of Lucifer will
find the Lady of Everlanguishing Penalty, and without no man may
enter his kingdom. The way is swift with the razor and blood
given to the sacrifice will be rewarded twenty-fold.
At this he stopped his speaking and looked at
me for a moment and stood and walked out the door, without a
word. With his hasty escape I had no words to describe the
thoughts that scattered themselves within my brain. Such are the
manifestations of madness and in this man there were no
boundaries, no borders where his imagination stopped traveling. I
continued on my own travels, interviewing various other patients
in other hospitals, never wondering what that poor devil saw
within his eyes as he gazed out into the world I saw.
Airek/ Hael217