Dear European Architecture Sickness Association. Duty Doctor

I am an over worked under paid architectural student who recently has experienced a series of harrowing life like hallucinations. My concerns are growing as to their long-term impact, severity and possible ramifications! Let me explain. I keep waking up in this cold sweat, bitten by all over; as if by bats or mosquitos, and finding myself high off the ground in makeshift dig’s resembling a shantytown, where torturous groans resonate from distant corners. In a vain attempt to escape the apparition I go to shower, only to be confronted by distressing screams of young girls. With that failing, I consider happiness is found through food, but then; as if chained in a working gang I cue to be force fed a branch like wheat stick I hear people cursing as a ‘baguette’. Seeking true evasion I yearn a cup-of-tea, but instead dishwater seems to suffice. This nightmare has been frequenting me daily now for nearly two weeks. As I drift back to harmony and the doldrums of the morning’s monotony disappear further irregularities to my usual routine begin again. These can only be hallucinations; surely. Wandering the alleyways and trodden backwaters of the shanty town, dishevelled youths bearing archaic tools, chanting in foreign tongue marching in orange suits appear and disappear, like snow whites dwarfs more appear in grey suits; again with new tongue a staggered walk and gesticulating arms. Trying to turn on to a new path and escape the escalating madness; more come with greater surprises, bridges appear from nowhere going from nowhere to nowhere. As the creak of metal resonates the shantytown metamorphoses and like wood worms chewing through a rotten tree people run from corner to corner, some making noise others carrying noise, the cursing and thrown arms skywards increasingly apparent as if these bodies, like me are possessed. Again these hallucinations become monotony. Daily at the same time I find myself ushered into a room full of people, with a man in black preaching to us who I hear people calling; ‘The Architect’. As these echoing daily services go on I try to question what IS going on. Then I find not even my words are understood, a vagrant offers to translate my English to English and some how all becomes clear; ‘The Architect’ his congregation and combatants all ‘nod’ and ‘tut’, I am none the wiser and melt down trying to disappear and escape the madness. Please if you are or have experienced the same prolific thoughts let me know. We might be able to work it out together.