I deleted so many emails off my Yahoo account the mail daemon booted me out of the system Monday morning. Today I kept going and have less in Yahoo than Gmail, able to envision how we are devolving on the environmental scale rather than advancing. I do not put Allison Joseph's transmissions in digest, and between her writing opportunity posts, Linked In, Examiner's editorial team, my Blogger account, twitter's desire for more enthusiastic participation, my cellular organization is mutating to fractal formulas, snacking tepidly on goat cheese and crackers. With age, all the symptoms with cerebral palsy that made me glance with some befuddlement at my physical therapist are now grilling with the sizzle of pork skin crisp, food regurgitation, tremors, my dislocated hip which Dr. Steele did not cut jack knifing, always interfering with my sexual comfort.
I am not puking up my meals just yet. Loss of appetite, gradual, so fascist that my enthusiasm to sample the deceased Nadine deflated, with a reminder on why she won the Pulitzer, or the Nobel ,rather. Not that apartheid works, but neither does American egalitarianism. I want my own quiet studio on the largesse of family or other charitable person of affluence; somewhat attracted to my neighbor Tim down the hall I made a mistake, told him "I hate living here Tim; I come from an affluent family." Knock on my door if you're afraid, or ever need to talk.
"Well we could go out for coffee but I have the ex fiance below you know," grinning sheepishly. Never shall I impose myself on him here on the floor. Learned that lesson long ago. He always mentions that we have the same birthday, tickled by it. I get impatient with the mannerism, simple coincidence, but for white trash he'd be acceptable, walks, is more magnetic than the ailing brother, a man sharper and more flinty, perhaps gay. This is a mistake since I decided to find a tenant lawyer and litigate myself out. Still, could he as an able bodied male find me attractive? Does he? Unsure. He's been nice, bought kimmy presents. Acceptable, given how environment has malformed me, as opposed to polished, and if I sue myself out within 15 months, such speculative interest would undoubtedly extinguish with that minor episode in a failed disabled writer's minuscule travesty toward her own decomposition. One does not make love with other housing tenants. Bad karma.
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