America Application! ☆☆

[Alfred F. Jones]

This ain't a song for the brokenhearted
No silent prayer for the faith departed
And I ain't gonna be just a face in the crowd
You're gonna hear my voice when I shout it out loud

It's my life
It's now or never
I ain't gonna live forever
I just wanna live while I'm alive

alfred f. jones! ✪

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Name: Alfred F. Jones
Country: United States of America
Date of birth: July 4th, 1992
Age: 19
Likes: movies, dogs, cheeseburgers, soda, baseball, cartoons, sunny days, friends, video games, freedom
Dislikes: sleeping, health food, boredom, being stuck in one place, when people around him speak languages he doesn't know

Diagnosis: Bipolar disorder type I
Voluntary/Involuntary hospitalisation: Voluntary
Months/Years hospitalised: 1 month

MSN: [e-mail]
AIM: N/A
Yahoo: N/A
Tumblr: thaisce.tumblr.com

Sample journal:
[note: handwriting is childishly simple, and very messy, as if it was written in a hurry, with little stars and stick figures drawn on the edges of the page]
Hey journal!!!! i Actually managed to sleep today for like two hours today and the doctors were really proud of me and i'm getting chicken nuggets for dinner because of it. Dreams are really weird!!!! In my dream i got to go home which Isnt gonna happen but I can dream!!!! This place is hard to get used to even though ive been here forEVER. I think thats all i have to say for today. See ya!!

Sample RP:
He rapidly tapped his pencil against the desk, staring blankly at the white-washed walls in front of him. Tap tap tap taptaptap tap tap taptaptap. He sighed deeply, tapping the pencil in a jumbled sort of rhythm, more "sort of" than rhythm. "I'm BOOOORED!" He announced it to no one in particular, grumbling as no response came. He didn't like being left alone, and he liked being left alone in such a boring place even less. The quiet room was the worst. Quiet room punishments were even worse than the worst.

Alfred sighed again, more dramatically this time, glancing back to make sure that the nurse stationed near the door could hear him, squirming in his seat. All he had to do to be let back out to where the other patients were was finish this worksheet, a simple page asking him to summarize what he'd done wrong ('nothing,' he mentally noted), why it was wrong ('because everyone is stuffy and doesn't want to have any fun'), and how he can learn from it ('don't try and have fun anymore'). Apparently trying to get everyone involved in some wheelchair races was "causing a scene" and "too immature for a young man of his age". Key word being apparently.

He couldn't help it, things here were just so boring! What the heck else was he gonna do? There was never anything fun to do, and his abundance of energy was always overflowing. It was like this place was trying to making him feel actually crazy, like a poor cooped up dog left in his crate all day, eager to be let out to stretch his legs. Alfred was bored, bored and wide awake and desperate to just get out of this room.

[Mod 1]

Your America sounds dead-on in characterisation! Accepted.

Please make a journal thread here, add your name to the ward list and introduce yourself here.