My Whole Expanse I Cannot See…

Yesterday… all my troubles seemed so in my face, now it looks as though they’re… still? in my? face?

No, I’m not The Beatles, I definitely can’t write songs. I’m kind of embarrassed that I even wrote it, but if I delete it, this sentence becomes nonsense, so then I delete it too. At which point we’re back to a blank page, and I hate a blank page.

Yesterday, the state came by for some kind of inspection/evaluation/thing, and it was just upsetting. They compliment you on your “immaculate room,” then I say, I don’t get to leave it much because I’ve had to choose between rent and my assistants because my budget was so slashed. Then they suggest I leave my “immaculate room” and move into “subsidized housing.” I’m not in a rich neighborhood by any means, all my furniture is second-hand restored, all the fancy technology I have is from work I’ve done, or given as gifts, but yes, my surroundings are nice. My neighborhood is nice and safe, I’m 3 minutes from the fire-station, 10 minutes from my hospital, my room’s lights, tv, necessary alarms are controlled via my computer, I live here for a reason. Safety.

So, on the one hand, this nurse literally takes off my pants (and underthings) to check for bed-sores, this supervisor is asking questions about my care, saying how spectacular my set up is, but if I want my assistants back, I have to trade my totally safe, well-crafted environment to go live in government housing. They’re paying $600-ish a week for an ambulance service just to drive me to doctor appointments, while refusing the $180 a week I’m asking to have my assistants back, and keep my nice, safe house, and to allow the ditching of the ambulance service. To further illustrate the insanity, if my family said, “You know, this is just too hard, we can’t take care of Michael anymore,” the state would warehouse me in a hospital for $10,000 PER WEEK until I die.

As I’ve said, cutting my budget isn’t about saving anybody any money, it’s about shifting triple the money, and then some, toward the medical industry. The state is TRYING to make it so my family can’t support my independence, they’re trying to make me dependent on medical services.

Or maybe they just want to take off my pants to check out my deal.

Put a gun to my head and paint the walls with my brains.

I find it REALLY hard to believe that not ONE of my readers is a vampire.

Just sayin’.

Clearly, my current body, particularly my head, just isn’t working anymore. So, I have some ideas.

If I have any vampire readers, could you possibly come turn me? I promise to enjoy the lifestyle and not ask a bunch of annoying questions about morality.

My only other idea is to place my brain in the body of an orange tabby kitten.

The vampire scenario is obviously ideal.

Resting.

So, I spent today in the hospital, getting a fresh trach, a sinus wash, AND flu-shot. Needless to say, I’m exhausted… and scared. I really don’t like feeling like a sick kitten.

Everything’s the same.

I feel like I’m falling apart, like I ought not exist anymore.

SO, my face has been really bad today, the pain is pretty much my entire world. I just close my eyes and pretty much beg my face to stop hurting. I’m begging God, I’m literally begging my face itself to quit hurting. Begging whoever, whatever, just make it stop. The begging doesn’t actually DO anything, but it just feels like the thing to DO anyways.

Right now, I’m really exhausted, and scared because I’m so exhausted.

critical thinker was kind enough to leave a fake e-mail address tied to a Tampa ip to back-up this comment…

 I’ve got an idea: why don’t you learn how to start a sentence without using the word “so” for a change. روليت مجاني You know, since you fancy yourself a “writer” and what not.

It’s not so much about learning, that I lack a college degree, that I’m just too Goddamn stupid to differently start my sentences. لعب القمار على الانترنت It’s more of a style choice. If you don’t care for my style choices, I don’t care if you quit reading. If you quit reading, I might go into therapy, 4-6 months, we “writers” are a little off, but I promise, I will get over your absence. قواعد لعب البوكر