february in portland

yesterday morning. i was supposed to wake up in the shelter, eat breakfast, get signed up with a doctor, or at least the health insurance. well... fuck it, here's what happened. i woke up in the shelter, ate breakfast, sat and waited too long to get signed up with health care, then they told me to go down to... somewhere, and apply for the food stamps, which took forever. then i walked up to sisters of the road cafe, and signed up to eat at two pm. then i walked to transition projects to get the tb test thing done, but they only do it at one thirty. so i walked to the library, thinking i could check my email, and get back down there in time to eat. the lady at transition projects said i could come by at three pm and talk to her. but i left the library late, didn't make it to sisters of the road till just before three, and they were closing up. the lady was nice enough to give me food anyway, i quickly ate, and walked out. i got all the way back up to the library before i realized i was supposed to go back to transition projects right after that. didn't get there till five pm, the lady was gone, and no more tb testing things, so i'm out of the shelter, too. people really do not realize how much they can constantly fuck up your life, and all they can ever seem to say, is sorry for the inconvenience.

so i just gave up on trying to get anything else accomplished yesterday, headed down to the mission for dinner, ate a few times, and headed out to get my back of blankets. i was beat. sore. exhausted. as soon as i got laid down and comfortable, fuckin' security has to come move me along. i asked the guy, why do you always have to wait till i'm laid down and done before you make me get up, i've been sitting here smoking for half an hour. no answer. i asked him where was another good spot to lay, telling him i like to stay under something, and away from people. they can't help you. i walked around for a bit, and saw a bunch of people under the burnside bridge by the park. got a little food, and then figured out there was a medical truck. it was actually a dental truck. well, fuckin' holy fuckin' lugies, i finally get to get this miserable fucking tooth pain out of my daily shitfest of agony. joy.

so, almost two hours after my original slab time, i get a bone yanked out of my head, my a rather cool doctor/dentist dude, found a little spot under the steele bridge, and passed out. only to be woken up at sunrise by more security guards running me off. hebus fucking terrorist christ, do you fuckers truly not realize how much you can fuck up a person's fucking day? how many times do i have to ask that? a monetary society should not be my only option, i do not want to participate in your fucking stupid little dollar orgy, your childish little concrete job world, it does not interest me. but you force me. and if i can't stand on the ladder, you make sure that ground hurts like hell. and you're so sorry for the inconvenience, i'm sure.

so, this morning, i have to call my first bank, and find out where their shared banking locations are. can't use the library phones. sorry for the inconvenience. get my money out. then, i'm really tempted to just spend all the cash on pot, and sell it, rather than try to rectify my stupid bank situation all by my fucking lonesome ugly self. get my phone replaced and have music to listen to? or make sure i stay sane on pot this month? or attempt to do both, and get fucked worse than last month. because 'i can't take that charge off your card, sorry for the inconvenience. i'm fucking you really painfully in the ass, against your protests, i think they call this rape, but my company policy dictates that i can't stop until i've satisfied myself, so shut up and fucking like it, sorry for the inconvenience. sorry i didn't use lube either, and now it burns like a volcano, but here's a cheap bar of soap and a screw. i can't be bothered to tell you what you can use them for. i can't afford to give you a hint. it's against policy for me to give you any more information. i have to ask you to leave now. i'm going to call the cops on you if you don't cooperate. i know i'm the one being childish and uncooperative, and my ears haven't evolved enough to listen to you, or formulate a beat in my heart, but this concrete reality is the hell i designed for you, hope you enjoy it, keep your receipt, although we'll never tell you that it will do you no good, it's just a worthless piece of paper, and that's what we think of you, our little toy that's dancing around trying to catch these reigning raining dollar bills that are just worthless pieces of paper just like us, the creators of all that is the bane of your existence, and we hope you love our service, please feel free to leave comments and suggestions, but no complaints on that wall of turds over there, smoking section is in the prison cell to the right, no one can hear you, you're a rat in a cage who thinks he's a human having a dream he can't wake from, dollars can murder your heart, everything we've told you is a lie, and you're stuck in a web of copyright prison bars, we'll let you starve just enough to hate us, but if you bite the hand that feeds you, we bite back with interest, and i fucking hate the core of everything you are, you are nuthing to me, and i hope you get to cling onto your credit cards while you're burning in satan's fucking turd pool.

have a wonderful day.
sorry for the inconvenience.

frowns to the left of me, smokers to the right, here i am, stuck in a riddle with you.
the only solution i can see from my hell, is for your expensive heaven to fall.

how much would it cost me to cram this up your ass.