I was bowed over. I rarely bathed. I sometimes didn't shave. It was dreadful. And it was clear — not to me, because nothing was clear to me at that time anymore — that I would need long-term hospitalization in that awful place called a mental hospital.
A veces no me afeitaba. Era terrible. Y era claro... no para mí, porque nada era claro para mí en ese entonces... que iba a necesitar hospitalización de larga duración en ese terrible lugar llamado manicomio.