I want to be friends and meet, especially with odd darlings and cool cats I've as yet barely encountered (but such presences they are in their essentials!), and I don't deny myself the just desserts due me -- not that by the very nature of what's going on I could screw my own pooch, at least in the renumeration department (there would have to be some -- gasp! -- inimical, highly effective, indominable conspiracy afoot... I just have a difficult time thinking this is merely the dark before the dawn, the cloud whose silver lining is not yet apparent...
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UPCOMING: The big ol' shindig for the Willie B. apartments in the Western Addition. Hopefully, they're less into this and that -ism and by which they hardcore discriminated against prospective tenants (wanting a vague "this-or-that" specific demographic they could serve, and have their own way, even as they received public funding, including from HUD.) They certainly never should have #displaced yours truly in violation of every common understood protection for SF renters, not without ample assurance from whatever boneheaded quarter they needed to that I would adequately and conveniently be dead soon after
TNDC unethically and senselessly (and illegally?) evicted me... (It never did make sense as to why they rented 212 at the Alexander to me to begin with, and let me stay for 4 1/2 years.)
(BTW, I think there's some affidavit I have to sign in the City and County, perhaps at the Superior Court on Grove -- with or without an attorney? I'm not sure... Anyway, I wonder if this has something to do with my former landlord -- I ain't fixin' to be Elle Woods up in here. I know a lot of people have been mum on some huge issue surrounding me; Lord knows, I'm supposed to be taking some sort of hint on that. All so vague and weird... Oh, well, I'll pop in at the court as soon as I can make it to the City -- it is sort of a hardship to travel... Maybe I'll get there by July 24th?)
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"Wait, is there some 'principle of the thing' about me and my so-far lifelong frequent poverty and privation, and that those involved are investing themselves in an hideously irritating, so-maddening-as-to-induce-homicidal-rage 'point' in arranging my situation (one that includes a timing component)? Is that why I'm being piously fucked over by some de facto conspiracy? Or is someone unduly taking out on me the fact that I read -- for pleasure! -- Foucault's Pendulum by Umberto Eco my senior year in high school?"
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Still prone on occasion to auditory illusion voices, emotional stuff... I'm at my most hurtful, perhaps, when I can't take something for what it by virtue of being what it is as a promise... My nature is perverse insofar that I know: whether human or divine, assurances are unfortunately ironic.
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.｡･ﾟﾟ･(＞_＜)･ﾟﾟ･｡.i put 2 wallz b3hind u jus 2 lean on(＋_＋)
