Doctor, Feel-Good

A psychiatrist-patient/writer seeks a language-arts 'line' for his apparent self-made Galatea-hypnosis (from his own art!) and may find (actual) Romanticism.

A tale of life-decision 'consciousness' and inspired (loosely) by The Muse (Albert Brooks). 

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PSYCHIATRIST: How's the Risperidone?

MR. AMLAN SATAN: It's helping me cope with bifurcating-thoughts, doc (thanx).

PSYCHIATRIST: You still believe you're in-love with your (own) Galatea, Satan?

SATAN (Amlan): I don't just believe it...I think it (wow).

PSYCHIATRIST: Perhaps the Klonopin-addition will relax the brain-wave, Satan.

SATAN: Perchance I don't want the comfort...distance from 'Ezzy'...thanx.

PSYCHIATRIST: You'd rather be unwell (mentally) than transcend Galatea?

SATAN: Her name's Ezzy, doc (thanx).

PSYCHIATRIST: It's your Selfie-age...of comfort-medicines...we'll proceed.

SATAN: Medicine for bureaucracy.

PSYCHIATRIST: How's your work at the writer's desk, publishing-house?

SATAN: Modest-pay, handsome private-time for novel concept writing (thanx).

PSYCHIATRIST: What's your (new) novel titled, Mr. Satan?

SATAN (Amlan): Medicine for Galatea (thanx).

Amlan Satan thought he'd become a psychiatrist/psychologist at Dartmouth but instead chose to become a cognition-intuitions writer, crafting special, award-winning superstitions-tales of sportsmanship (football!) culture in the American Homeland and designed a youth-like stick-figure (vigilantism-themed!) comic art doodle of an urbanization-vigilance 'duo' (drawn right out of the comics of the West) and started 'hearing' the femme-heroine whispering to him, convincing him she'd become his (personal/private) Galatea (wow). Was he going insane, overworked with writing/publishing, bound for Selfie-commentary in incomplete-distances readings for the 'consciousness' of materialities? Had become commerce-congestion 'diplomat-citizenry' or was he (actually) in-love?

PSYCHIATRIST: What's your new novel about, again?
SATAN (Amlan): That last one won the Pulitzer, doc (thanx for asking).

PSYCHIATRIST: This one?
SATAN: It's about a blood-diamond new millennium pirate.

PSYCHIATRIST: What's his name, Amlan?

SATAN: Satan.

PSYCHIATRIST: Pirate-Satan (ha).

SATAN: He's in love with a flight-attendant ('Ezzy').

PSYCHIATRIST: Sounds familiar.

SATAN: She just might become the 'insurance' for his Ego.

PSYCHIATRIST: Wow...dual consciousness/decisions.

SATAN: Yes, I wish I was him (Satan).

PSYCHIATRIST: Maybe this 'pirate-IQ' (blood-diamond?) concerns dialysis.

SATAN: Without doubt(s)...me thinks (ha).

What was the big 'stink' about Mr. Amlan Satan's Galatea-doodle for 'wrought' incomplete-distances readings for mod-Earth fortune-readings consciousness 'drawn' decision-making for obsession compounded by his bipolar-affective disorder? Was the Risperidone/Klonopin combo (purely) not working, for Satan (or 'Pirate-Satan')? He started to believe he'd be 'wise' to become the blood-diamond pirate he was writing about, in this new novel, perchance casting his 'Galatea-doodle' (comic art) as a special "Aphrodite" of dialysis (damn).

PSYCHIATRIST: So, you dropped the novel concept and now teach-tennis?

SATAN (Amlan): I've got this lovely lady-hawk (aristocrat) pupil, doc.

PSYCHIATRIST: Will she help you 'forget' about Galatea (altogether)?

SATAN: Doc...this tennis-magazine new-life forges a Romanticism bound.

PSYCHIATRST: For what direction?
SATAN: Dualism engineering (me thinks!).

PSYCHIATRIST: Good, Satan (good-fortunes descent).

"Doing well is the result of doing good. That's what capitalism is all about" (Ralph Waldo Emerson). 

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"Money is everything" (Ecclesiastes)