Lunatic Foundation
Cynicism about public institutions requires reinforcements.
Mental health is not a side issue. It is the mainframe.
Patients here are too isolated to be rough or take a hiding, things instrumental to a capitalist system.
Expression is integrable and amiable only in subintervals.
Tip toddle with insanity reflectively.
Strategies of psychotic therapy out in force like a coolant command.
There is no warmth in miscellaneous organs.
Weirdly comforting in its honesty, we curtail activities such as warmth.
All that is burning is the valiant well-to-do.
Half nonsense, half revelation. A proper little gospel unchartered.
Mental health isn’t a side issue or a bug to patch -it’s the main operating system of modern life.
Strength in Emptiness answereth to all things - except careful observation.
Lunatic Foundation is an irregular mission - more of an art movement than a mental health counterpart.
This is not another mental health initiative. It is an irregular art movement wearing the clothes of an asylum which are not mediocre.
Strength in Emptiness is practiced, not preached. Lay down on one's knees rather than jumping into one's limbs.
The Foundation becomes its own spectacle - a proper cinema without focal length, where the audience (society) keeps trying to sharpen the lens and fails.
Deliberately blurry, dreamy, or chaotic camerawork.
A titan of new talent becomes a joint operation between patients and their caretakers.
To dapple with discipline and routines, something may be frightening; there are wild contrasts.
Someone who arrives “sane” might be gently initiated into beneficial madness.
Life was always deemed to be a mental health issue; except we have broken camp.
Inhabitants spend hours lying flat, not in submission but in luxurious refusal. Standing is optional and slightly embarrassing.
An anti-awakening liturgy spoils nothing. The empire stays beautifully unfinished.
It’s getting thicker, slower, more meditatively unfinished.
A pompous handling of mental health issues is recalled. Inevitably, in capitalist societies, outstripping the mind’s resources is a contentious matter - just like the blues of a compass direction:
One day you’re pointed north, the next you’re spinning in the wind while the systems keep demanding a wider raid of speed, more compliance.
This institute is where mental health issues become the determinant of one’s lifestyle, not the honour of rationality as an accompanying figure of one’s existence.
Advanced is a new psychiatric diagnosis: ‘Workoprenia’. For instance, when the transition from schooling to work doesn’t go well, people may develop mild schizoid systems, where establishing of a lifestyle is impossible.
The young tremulous squeeze hardest in the first weeks - frantic little compressions to prove the Workoprenic fracture has not scattered their last sane fragment. Get your money’s worth out of it.
Take it in one’s stride being a lamb going to the slaughter, whatever you feel comfortable with.
Mild schizoid systems trigger when the transition from schooling to wage enclosure does not compute.
Work is a dangerous scary shift, no complex tenderness.
Youth never goes back into the same capacity as they were. They are shredded, unable to be stabilized.
The raw power of transition is a narrow enclosure.
A predicted school day is improvised as a dwelling for adult students.
There are shocked and disappointed wee rascals nobody can dwell upon because it will probably definitely almost get somebody sort of umm in a prisons.
The best possible functionary extraction zone.
Phobia of the body: what’s in there in that tiny little radius, scope?
Even good, honest everyday people are a tad miffed about the whole scenario.
Nihilistic spasms at school are more decisive than the working week.
If you are not keen on or are bothered by being contained in a single job, wish for a hologram to do it for you. This is a hologramplight. A carbon copy of oneself, a perfect mould.
Where work is dire and recognizing each other is also dire due to multi-culturalism.
Harsh criticism is inevitable and probably necessary to conquer freedom, holidays and travel.
The moment people see inhabitants who refuse (or cannot) play the game of productivity, multicultural small-talk, the outside world will call it dangerous, irresponsible, cultish, or a waste of resources.
It shows you how under-rated getting the right mixture of people is.
Social contact may be lost or distributed back to capitalism.
Capitalism's development cycle is a haunting gateway to competitive activity.
It narrows the aperture of what can be thought, felt, or known.
Capitalism is a DIY lie. Hobbies backfire.
The Lunatic Foundation’s first law is self-sabotage on schedule.
Cough up a self-aware safeguard.
Be surprised to discover etiquette here, it is dubious.
It is the polished manners of the erected world just enough to take the chill off.
Making something mandatory is a cheap turning point which directly stimulates a restrictive range of knowledge.
Even harmonious relations need rebooting.
Climate change is guilt-ridden grumble, a belief impairment.
Worst-case scenarios treated as defaults.
The disciplined body requires no sex, no shag delights, only kissing. Masturbation is banned too because it is an easy thing to do compared to finding company of a person of the opposite sex.
Cold dark absolutism nobody can reply to has the power to soothe.
Switch off the sky: Don’t let the sunshine interfere with the current advanced state of false depositions.
The feed of information overlaps with a limiting factor: market negligence hell.
Keep the whole thing from calcifying into doctrine, the most recent fascination for the elite.
Communication is no longer decisive; it is a tough call.
Harmony goes straight down the plug hole and people become cultural dunces targeted repeatedly.
A large proportion of cooperation and trust is stolen.
There is no such thing as a wonderful job because morality hits hard.
Every “dream career,” every “passion project,” promising fulfilment eventually collides with the wall of ethics which remains to be told unless it is sensual and sublime.
It is not frantic grasping. It is a slow, deliberate, almost ceremonial curse.
No forced melting. Only the long, shared fog where recognition becomes optional and trembling becomes universal.
Loneliness has always been a stage-trained silent film - it is not naturalistic. It is an obscure existence without context or infrastructure.
Poor sod on your pat malone in the solar system, silent stargazer.
Physiatrists deal to the strain of specific objectives with few tools.
Ban all cell phones. Used for non-essential purposes, they are robot buffoonery.
Carrying a cell phone, laptop or tablet anywhere means who are carrying a geeky office around with you.
Don’t spout out about what you have to shuffle through.
Even emergency salvation requires some sort of bulk disorder of its own accord.
The terminal jammed mind becomes shrewd.
Pure quirky delirium astonishes.
The constant survival mode invasion relies on patients being less civilized.
Space to be exactly as uncivilized and alive as the mind demands.
Nobody ever quite knows what’s going on under their skin; a perfect opportunity for those vulnerable to being enclosed between psychosis and depression.
Tip one’s eyes half shut as you strut through the day without attendant focus.
Face stomped by oblivion, energy promotion undefined, only shyness remains.
Be present and vigilant without a guarantee God strike me.
Defending oneself is not in everyone's nature, they remain tremulous and veiled.
The protocol of the tremulous is the proper orientation avoiding causative yet noninvasive public scorn unmonitored.
Let the tremulous stay tremulous instead of forcing them into fake poise.
Be honest about emptiness and loneliness as manufactured conditions.
The erection of life itself is the hardest thing to deal with, and it makes the ultimate shift into mental health issues, therefore we un-erect it, softly, stupidly, gloriously.
Mentally ill people live more closer to us than one thinks, because they have no other mental health settlements.
The beautifully uncivilized can congregate, create, and exist without the constant demand to perform rationality.
Our ancestors fought wars for this.
The studio itself turns daily life into living theatre, documentation, ritual, and slow revelation. People come to observe not to fix, but to witness what happens when the mind is given full permission.
The Lunatic Foundation operates completely outside the modern toolkit.
The ideal climatization pinnacle is a melting pot of swarthy newcomers.
People residing in the Lunatic Foundation will have immaculate oral hygiene, they use toothpaste and mouthwash after they’ve eaten anything. This is a “Hygiene Craving." Kiss a clean mouth reliably without germs involved.
It turns basic hygiene into something intentional and almost aspirational - like a craving you satisfy rather than a chore you endure.
Trust in the disciplined ritual to keep the mouth kiss-clean at all times.
The Hibernation of the Turning World: retirement involves hibernating from the period of the summer solstice, not just for the longest day, but the employment of rotation of the earth itself.
This is the Solstice Cocoon Chamber.
Geriatrics are not “retired.” They are translated into the Great Rotation. Their bodies become slow satellites of the Earth itself- turning with it, dreaming inside its spin, refusing to fight the long arc anymore.
Retirement is no longer an economic phase. It is cosmic hibernation.
Make steps to acknowledge the rotation without fighting it.
This is not a personal choice. Retirement is not idleness. It is a planetary sacrament.
The geriatric javelin: The principality of sports become rare exploits here.
No gyms, no tracks, no cheering crowds, no medals.
Jogging or cycling long distances should not be allowed unless one is searching for Jesus.
The very idea of “getting after it,” of leaping, sweating, conquering the body, belongs to the old, erected world outside.
All forms on violence are considered a spiritual injury here, horribly wrong damn stupid.
Medieval torturers are on a productivity drive capturing whimps.
Squeeze yourself to remember you have not lost your marbles.
The Foundation thrives on luxurious refusal of increasing aggression after all.
Mock the “normal” world’s pathetic victory condition right in the middle of the refusal.
The rest of life is the side quest we were never meant to win.