and the tenant downstairs is driving me out of my mind. First it was some sort of techno hell and now it's a strange rumbling growing crescendo of sound. it gets quiet the starts all over again. The same thumping thump thump thump thumping thumpity thump. over and over.
I don't really know what to say or do. The hell me and my family have been through in just the last 3 years. Having to move twice and not being able to find anywhere to live. Nearly being homeless. Losing - having to throw away all my belongings, records , CDS, all my artwork ... everything. I have some sort of ptsd. it's a seemingly endless cycle over the past 63 years. I remember being a kid and trying to sleep while my mom was terrified my father was never coming home to go to work on Monday and what were we going to pay the rent with... over and over and over. Now I'm afraid we will be kicked out for even saying anything. This apartment is old and the walls are paper thin. A piece of shit really. So many landlords are just slumlords who don't care if you live in misery. They will let you die on the sidewalk for a months rent.
And so? It's my fault for being mentally fucked up or emotionally or whatever. Who knows? Can't afford to go to a doctor or any of that.
I dream of a house. a home. forests and green grass. rain, quiet. privacy it looks like I'm never going to get there. my 64th birthday is may 22nd. I can't stand this place. this entire city surrounded by dozens more cities with no space in between. Privacy.just a garage to sit in next to a washer and dryer would be a dream. fuck...
Louis Vuitton store in Newport Beach - Fashion Island. No, I didn't go inside. I was too embarrassed of my worn out clothes. I would have liked to though. In clean newish clothes I can sometimes fake it like I'm a real person. If I keep my mouth shut.
Haven't played a guitar in over 2 years or seen a movie or so many things/everything that used to be my life.
