Everyone Alive

Survived a night of wallowing in self-pity and heavy drinking. I don't smell too good and for some reason my left side kind if itches, but it's better than, you know, getting trampled by panicked cheetahs. And seeing as it's Sunday, and seeing as I'll give our Christo-American calender system a go, and seeing as Sunday is the start of the week in such a faith, and seeing as I said I'd write something at least once a week, I'll write something.

So why was I in said state of pity and gluttony? For the past few months, and by that I mean almost half the damn year, I've been getting sued by a creditor. In much the same way as celebrities keep their terminal illnesses hidden from public view, I've kept that hidden from view because, well, that shit is kind of embarrassing. I decided to fight the suit in court and as of yesterday, lost. Shot down. Game over man, game over. What's going to happen? Near as I can tell nothing. NJ protects debtors' property so long as it's under a grand in value and I seriously doubt my half-broken three year old laptop, impressive screen size notwithstanding, is worth that much. Otherwise I have not a single item of value to a collector, which rocks in the scope of the lawsuit but also reminds me how rock-fucking-bottom poor I am.

But for now it's over and I can rest. Key phrase for now.

Getting sued, to follow the analogy, is kind of like having cancer. It's there when you're out drinking with your friends; it's there when you're taking a shower or when you have a cold. When you tell people about it something about you registers as toxic to them. It harkens me back to 1st grade when I was the kid with cooties and everyone avoided me the way a quivering black carpet of ants shys away from a lit blowtorch. Nobody wants to be seen with you when you're the sued kid, and like the less media-friendly types of cancer, there's a ton of guilt and blame that comes along with it. Nobody blames a woman for getting breast cancer, even if she spends a half-hour a week in a tanning bed, but everyone blames you if you get lung cancer. Even if you're a non-smoker and it's from plasmosis inflammation or the fact that you work in a chemical factory. It's sort of weird to think that all of my social interacts for the past... I forgot how many... months have been tainted with this knowledge.


i think of you like p.j. soles