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a tragi-comic musical conversation about
mental illness as an ancestral disease
three sisters in their fifties
a dying mother
Cover Image: Hare Krishna of The Three Graces by Raphael, circa 1971.
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Female | 50s | under 3 minutes
Starts on page 1
EXTRACT: she fell. and she broke. she was all broken i looked at her hands....and the skin was...like rice paper all scrunched up. creamy and and papery. and the veins were all sticking up. dark blue and black. the skin was...living and dead. see through. the blood still pulsing under the skin…really slowly…her face was bright blue. krishna blue. stiff. trickles of bright red blood. i knew she was dead because her eyes were empty. you see that’s what she was doing. trying to scare me. pretending to be dead when she’s not. not really. she’s gone. but she’s still alive
Female | 50s | Unspecified
Starts on page 22
EXTRACT: when i look into the faces of the doctors i have to deal with now i want to ask them whether they brought their hanky with them. hard to trust a person when they look like they’ve just moved out of home in some leafy green suburb where the greatest difficulty they’ve ever known is having to hear their sister purge in the bathroom and although they’re finishing their psychiatry studies they have no idea as to how to actually help her. i return however to the way of frankenstein-shock therapy. works for some, others still look like zombies.
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