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Today is

Spiraling

Published 14 October, 20221014 by amj

One of the things that makes writing difficult when I'm in a really bad place is coming up with page titles. Spiraling Again, Spiraling Again Again, Spiraling Again Again Again gets irritating pretty rapidly. There's also the fact that it's all rambling of someone who is alone and sees little worth in anything they do.

I finally bathed tonight. The last time was Wednesday, I think. It may have been Tuesday. It was whateve night it was that went to bed and slept for almost seventeen hours. I'm finally back sleeping between the sheets again. I sleep on top of them when I don't bathed so they stay cleaner longer.

I'm tired of being alone. I'm tired of being scared. I'm tired on being in pain. I'm tired of the toll my disabilities take on my body and mental health.

I was diagnosed as hyperactive when I was four. Nowadays, they call it ADHD, and I don't want to do this any more. Oh yes, I've also since been diagnosed with several other things but the one I want to point out here is Borderline Personality Disorder. 

I keep thinking about the scene in Soylent Green where Edward G. Robinson's character goes to some state building and watches pretty things projected on to a wall and I don't want to do this anymore.

Ba Bi Br E La Le Y

Music Crisis

Published 13 October, 2022 by amj

I'm having a music crisis. Anxiety makes everything the most grating and horrible noise.

I gave up on Tilde and Chirp long ago.

Now the few SomaFM streams I could tolerate have all been laying musical turds for at least a year.

If the most prominent instrument of your song is a drum machine, I'm out.

And I'm burned out on, or find irritating, the literally 25,836 (find ./Music -type f -print | wc -l) tracks on my hard drive that I've been collecting since the 90's.

I'm Afraid Of Losing Everything

Published 10 October, 2022 by amj

The property owner has been listening to a lot of Jordan Peterson, and for the first time amid their poor health called Social Security and Medicare a Ponzi scheme. They have Medicare, but as mentioned in a previous rant, they won't see a doctor. They've been eligible for Social Security since last year and have yet to apply. If you look through the images I've posted of the property, it's clear they are far from "well off." I'm terrified and on the verge of an anxiety attack. I've never heard such thinking from them. I fear for my place to live now. Suppose they swing hard right.

I pay them rent to live here, and as I've mentioned before, I had to convince them to let me pay them. I've even begun to refer to the space I live in as, "home" in the last year, instead of saying something like "when I get back to where I live"; "...the space I have"; "the Shack." That scares me all by itself.

It'll be eight years that I've lived here next May, and the reason it works for me here is that it's a converted garage that a single 32.5 sq meter (350 sq ft) room. It's quiet and there's enough room to move about, unlike an a 7.5 sq meter (80 sq ft) bedroom in a house. So it feels like a living space. And I've been given free reign to make improvements which I pay for myself. Honestly, I'm happy to spend the money when I can. There are also photos of the space that show the dilapidation it was in when I started living here, and what it looks like at present.

I pay US$300 per month to live here, including utilities, and pay an extra US$100 per month from November to roughly April to cover running a heater. It used to get down to below freezing in here for the first three winters I lived here. (I spent the winters of 2018 - 2020 with family in California.) Now that the ceiling is insulated and I put storm boards and foam insulation over most of the windows, it actually holds heat when I run a heater. I don't think it ever fell below 11 °C in here last winter. I'm modest in my heater use and aim to keep the temperature between 14 and 18 °C.

I can't afford to live anywhere else and don't want to live anywhere else. The Shack has no plumbing. I urinate in to a bottle and defecate in to plastic bags that I have to haul off-site. I bathe in a 283 liter (75 US gal) stock tank with water from the house. I like my small footprint in the world and feel like I'm at home.

Frustrated Rant

Published 12 September, 2022 by amj

The weather cooled off enough that I was finally able to get out and start preparing the roof on your house for winter. I tried to do more today, but it turned out to be a bad pain day, so I couldn’t do as much as I had wanted.

I found another hole in the roof while cleaning the valley over the kitchen and living room on the south side of the house. I'm pretty sure I can get a tin shingle inserted to cover the hole. But it–like the others that we just covered with a tarp–is an emergency. It's right over the room with all your home network equipment, and it's going to leak there and down your interior kitchen wall. You wouldn't have told me about leaking had I not noticed it.

You didn't tell me the last time the roof was leaking until I asked about the personal items I found in the trash. You called that leak in your bedroom closet severe, but you didn't do anything to resolve it except catch as much of the water as you could in buckets.

I cleaned off the rotten wood shingles and rotten shiplap underneath and covered it with tar paper until we could get it fixed properly. You never did anything, and won't let me fix it with composite shingles because you insist on wood. And you won't allow anyone to use plywood. But again, you haven't done anything to get it fixed. Your house it rotting on top of you and you'd rather empty buckets in ever increasing futility. WHY DON'T YOU CARE??? WHY CAN'T I GET YOU TO CARE??? You tell me you appreciate the work and repairs I do around the property. Then appreciate it by caring about your own home. GIVE A FUCK! I've offered to help you clean and get rid of things on numerous occasions, but you’ve always declined.

Buckets are not gonna work with the hole I found today. It has to be repaired. Like I said, I should be able to fix it with a tin shingle and make it watertight. I just need to prune back the tree branches so can get to it.

I've put a lot of effort and money in to making my little 375 sq ft Shack habitable since I started living here seven years ago. This is the only place I can afford. I've even started referring to it "home," which terrifies me. I just don’t understand why you won’t care or fix your home. I have to care because I have nowhere else to go if your house collapses or gets condemned as uninhabitable.

I’m begging you to give a fuck.

The World Needs To Burn In Nuclear Fire

Published 12 April, 2022 by amj
I live in the capital city of my state and there are nearby miltary bases all over. I'm confident that I wouldn't even see the flash, and if I did that's the last thing I'd be aware of.If there's a nuclear war the living will envy the dead. --Nikita Khrushchev
Things in the U.S. and the rest of the world are so massively fucked up that everything I do feels like rearranging deckchairs on a sinking ship. The pandemic has been difficult for me. My mental health has been deteriorating substantially over this last winter. With the rare exceptions of shopping and an occasional walk or bike ride, I don't go out of the Shack at all.Politics is not really politics anymore. It is run, for the most part, by Madison Avenue advertising firms, who sell politicians to the public the way they sell soap or cans of beer. --Helen Caldicott
I spend days at a time in a roughly 32.5 m2 (350 ft2) room. So much time, in fact, that I track the last time that I've gone out in to the world by the last time I rebooted my computer. I reboot it when I run errands. I'd lose track of the days completely if I didn't do this. If all of this paints a dark picture of my present existence, good. These are dark times. All the dreams that I am still physically capable of pursuing have been killed by this pandemic.

This page was originally designed to look like an early Nineties webpage from Geocities and other hosts of the time. The idea was to burn it on to a bunch of mini-CDs that I'd found and mail it to online friends. It was great fun. The original index page ishere.

I gave up on long-form blogging back when the MyOpera community was shutdown, and I've wanted something more functional that I can make a mess of for whatever reason as I've been shrinking my presence on social media sites. (All social media clients have bee deleted from my phone, in fact.) I really don't think much is going to come of this change, but I need a distraction at the moment, and tinkering with this is providing that right now. Any new pages or posts I create will appear here.


2022 - amjI probably don't want to hear from you if you can't figure out the email address I'm using for this site. Photos