I’m looking into a few options for my immediate future: Either finding a one-bedroom or studio, elevator building or first floor; or a roomamte for my current place. If anyone has some leads, please let me know. (NYC area). I no longer have any pets. Thanks.
Ultimate Evil Update
Daddy dearest and I are playing Lecter/ Graham chess again. He’s been moving around the family trying to get documentation signed to force the group home/ward of the state issue, citing every screwed up thing I did since I was twelve, up to and including bed-wetting. I had already taken power of attorney away from him and entrusted my sister Gail; he had been peddling twisted facts …
My phone is now connected- I resume contact with the world… Now to get all those goddamn numbers back that died with my first phone. So If you have not heard from me within a few days, there’s a damn good chance I need you to call me first.
Both my cell phones are out of comission. contat me through email or IM until this annoyance is resolved.
That Shaft is a Bad Motha(Shut yo’ mouth!)
Jus’ talkin’ about Shaft… As a break from my current angst and venom- or perhaps summoned by it- an apparition darkened my doorway. Not some vague, insubstantial wisp or ghostly vapor, but a glowering hulk of leather clad menace, who, as always, looks as if he fuels his bike with the blood of virgins and lunches on unsuspecting families who’s …
The problem with acceptiing help from people, even if you need it… Is that eventually they decide that you never could have gotten along without them; that their contributions are the ones that mattered. I have gotten along without you before. I’ll do it again. Thanks for the help. But if this is the bill for sitting down to dine …
They say it’s a slow, horrible way to die. This morning my father suggested I seriously consider finding a group home to live in, as he will shortly be discontinuing his aid. A group home. The entire point of bothering to have the fucking foot sawed off rather than let it fucking kill me was to eventually regain my autonomy, …
My cat died recently.
I still dream of him. In my dreams I shower him with desperate love and affection, trying to make up for all the times I missed the chance, or treated hin badly, or uprooted his life, or worse. Often I apologize, and if I don”t, I think I should have when I wake. I miss him.
A recent trip to Coney Island stirred up some memories, and redhead_sue helped bring them back it into focus- thank you, Sue. Coney is special to me, as it’s special to a lot of people- but what is fascinating is that it seems different to each person, that every person touched by it bears away a distinct mark. It’s a cotton candy and …
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