Weakest Link

My new foster kitty has taken charge of the situation, wasting little time on Joey's scent, little Vincent's angst, or my diffidence, despite her small size. She seems little more than a kitten herself, and had a stillborn litter veteranian medicine could not save, holds me prisoner by making her favorite spot the power chair. After a week of this I have threatened her with return to City Kitties, and both she and the former little Vincent seem to be getting the message, but I am nearly over the edge, wondering if I should forsake them both at this point. Joey cannot be replaced. I may kill my father's sister if she says another word to me on the matter, which will no doubt win me plaudits with my cousins. But the Friday Lady Rambo came to me (here is her picture, and while under my roof she is Lady Rambo and though sweet, has stressed me out; if you wish to adopt her do not worry about me!) Erik decided to converse with me on the outside vestibule. Callow as many an activist in the past has been to me, I was civil to Riverside Presbyterian's dying Dr. Seuss, who looks like a ghastly cat in the hat. I did not tell transvestite freak to fuck off precisely because his mind is nearly gone, and he was not a direct agent playing along in what Linda Dezenski did to me. I have never fully articulated what happened to me as a political casualty in Philadelphia's cripland, and may never actually be able to spell it out for a public until I find out if redress is utterly hopeless, but Erik and Jimmi's self-interested sense of entitlement, rule breaking, and Justice Department investigations into their activities played their part.



On a deeper level, however, my former rapport with this devious she male amounts to nothing. In our past I felt something of a bond, and s/he was an outlet for me, the right level of cognizance. Now it amounts to nothing, a dead man's dialogue of sorts, even on good days when his stroke palsied limbs are not shaking. He can barely speak from his tobacco use. 7/1 add in: she is sleeping behind my battery, and as such I cannot move, and feel like breaking down in tears, wondering if anything will ever go right for me ever again.