OMAR KDNA

THIS MIGHT BE WHAT SCHIZOPHRENIA  👇LOOKS LIKE👇

These paintings are kind of like a response to the following story: Painted 1 year following the series events that occurred in late 2011 / early 2012.

I'm not sure to be honest. All I know is that I have a deep mistrust for the medical industry and clinical psychiatry. In 2011 when the doctor at the mental health institution spoke to me, he diagnosed me after a 5 minute conversation and said, "Go home and take these pills, therapy might help, blah blah blah". That Foo said, "Drug Induced Schizophrenia." 5 minutes ain't shit, you cant just talk to someone for five minites and say this is what u need. In my head I was like, {"I know you come from a rich family and make ridiculous amounts of money, you're old and don't have time to hear a person out. More than likely you don't care and are in a rush because you have great grand children, but God damn; that's it!!! go home and take some syroquill."} (The psychiatric facility off of Herdon and Cedar is really nice tho.) I took the pills and they fucked me up!!! Like more than I had anticipated. I could not for the life of me process information. I was completely Zombified. To the fullest extent of the word. Walking around with bright white dead eyes, it was strange, I hated it. I'm pretty sure syroquill kills people. Damn pharmaceutical company indusrty, profiting off of societys slow deterioration of people's mental fabrics. I wouldn't consider myself to be very smart or hyper political. But I know enough to know that that shit is fucked up. The industry of western medicine is fucked up! Anyways, I guess I should talk about how I got to the mental hospital.

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I wish I had pictures to show from the whole experience. I can go on about it for miles, but I'll give you the summarized version. It all began shortly after a break up from a really, really, really long relationship. Plus it was the year of my Chinese Zodiac and as we all know that means it was destined to be a terrible year. Damned you astrology with your insanely accurate wisdom and forshadowing abilities. The future was looking good, I was attending college, living in my own apartment acoss the street from the University. About 1 year shy of obtaining my bachelor's degree in fine art. I had a good job, a car that I got with a fat scholarship straight outta high school. And let me remind you I don't come from money. There wasn't a single rich kid in the town I grew up in. If a muthafucker made money, then his family got the fuck outta town faster than things that are fast. I mean it wasn't a third world country, but it was amongst the closest thing you can get to it in the states. Anyways, I was living the dream in full effect. At this point I was still smoking weed daily, which may or may not be great, depends on the person, but I would still highly recommend it to most.   Started smokin herb about the age of 13. Around that time I began to consume hard drugs somewhere near the age of 14. That's about normal, right? I think. Well, at least common around my neck of the woods. So back to college, n life was good, post break up pre 5150. Smokin bud everyday, chillin with jainas at school, havin them dolla dolla bills yall. Soon I began goin to the bar across the street from my pad ( place of residence) evereryday. Which was perfect, because I didn't have to drive. Plus it was perfect to keep the post bar party goin. Just migrate across the street to my place. The spot had a balcony street view called the "gun range". Everyday jainas goin to and from school, the smoke shop with a painting of Jimi Hendrix looking at me every morning as I ate my routine breakfast of cup of noodle soup. (MARUCHAN!) The gun range was the gun range cus gettin at jainas was like shooting ducks on nintendo. Hollering at girls goin to and from college all day n bar people floating around drunk at night. Anyways back to the story weed everyday, countless heads rollin in and out of the pad, the homebase, the bat cave, the galeria - It was decked out with all my paintings. Most of which were stolen and never retrieved. The partying occurred daily for a few months on end. And of course when you get down with downers, you always wanna get up and keep going, so cocaine in was a must, lots and lots of cocaine. There was a good flow comin in from outta town and great connects in town. Everyone there at the time was down to party so we re-uped often. It was awsome! For a lil while, great memories, I freestyle rapped alot at the time, plus the place was always lit up by ten industrial grade purple light bulbs. Super Dope, Super Dope! Not to mention all the amazing pussy in that short timespan, but I won't get into that right now. This ain't no fuckin 50 shades of gray... but there was, daaannnggg. Getting distracted reminisccing. So now we have purple lights, weed alcohol, cocaine, jainas. The diet was pizza from across the steel daily, of course with pepperoni chemicals to help rot our minds. It wasn't long into the binge til I stopped attending school. A few more months into the binge and I lose my job. WE ALL KNOW WHAT THAT MEANS. NO JOB =NO MONEY, NO MONEY = NO PARTY, and no party means people start to dissappear. Oh, there was also a few occasions of eating hallucinogenic mushrooms in the city as friends drove me around drunk and hi. A few instances where I smoked heroin, (never injected). A few random pharmaceuticals, even though I hate and don't trust pills. Several instances of meth smoking. (Which I did often as a teenager.) And yeah, pretty much. And yeah... it was the beginning of the end, the great come down to every hi, I began to frakin lose my mind. The beginning of all the 51/50s. 

I'LL PICK UP WHERE I LEFT OFF NEXT POST.👇