drugs at you, and call it "medicine" & practicing it poorly, but they & Medicaid always pay, so they keep doing the same shit they've always done per the CPT Codes that work best, & there are no resources for people who just need a stable environment, & less interaction with the dangerous & chaotic
outside, after the cop trauma & the Complex PTSD, & the "split selves", & the anxiety disorder, & the PTSD w Somatic Response, started coming out after we left NYC in December of '17, & then did our ~220 Medicaid therapy sessions w Tricia, & for lack of an income, since the niggardly whites who run
SSDI have denied me twice in 5+ years, this last time, after 28 months of waiting, & Mr. Fernando n the Federal Benefits Unit in Manila having lost my paperwork for 8 months & threatening to close my case. It's hard out here for pimp. So, yeah, listening to the ignorance & stupid opinions of the
unwashed blathering masses at the LRM, today we heard a guy say that he was going to blow up Voices of Hope, because they had 20 people inside it sitting in cubicles, sucking at the teat of gubbermint & playing games on their phones. He thinks that all of it should be burned down & started over,
kinda like the myopic regressive bigot John on the bought & paid for Leonard Leo Six Koch whores of SCOTUS. The rehabs, community health centers, sober living houses, & free phones, are already starting to close, here & now, BE HERE NOW, said Richard Alpert before he learned yoga, there was already
such a dearth of help in the bloody Kaintuck, & now it's ever so quickly drying up to a trickle. So we lost our phone the other night when we slept on the sidewalk someplace downtown until around 3:00 a.m. & then shlepped back to the Hopelessness Center and fell down onto the floor on their dirty
plastic mats. I find the place intolerable so we're gonna go to a rehab we don't need, just so that we can buy 28 days of freedom away from that fucking place. Life was already stupidly hard & comically ridiculous enough, what with gay boy gun nut Peter Thiel's 2-factor authentication horseshit
everywhere you turn, but now we don't have to worry about charging a phone or keeping up with it. I've long said that I want to return to 1994, when cellphones were $1,500 Motorola bricks & mostly didn't exist, & we read 7 books at a time, while we drank free coffee at Missy's Pies on Woodland,
where we pulled many a young lass away from her baking or waiting on tables next door at Ramsey's, & down the hill to 280 E. High w our wrought iron balcony & 3 room studio painted Mondrian red, blue, & yellow, for hours of sexual body shenanigans. 4 minute warning. Computer gonna time out my 1 hr'