Seems like some stuff I checked on is ok. That’s good. God had told me not to worry about it. He was right. He just told me to secure my home. Just do that. Just do what is important. Whew. It’s hard not to check things yourself. Ya know?

. . . How many times can people listen to “Mr. Jones” by the Counting Crows? Apparently 115 million times on You Tube. Only fifty of them are me. Was going to make a joke about Adam Duritz getting a restraining order but today is not the day for that!! How many times can you listen to “Accidentally In Love,” “Long December,” or “Round Here.” Too many times. There’s more: “Rain King,” “She Doesn’t Want Anyone Around”, and the angel one. . . . They have these hidden hits.

. . . On another subject: I can’t believe that lies that bitch told about me. . . . I think God doesn’t want me to get caught up in it. The courts can act as amplifiers for social prejudice or our own hidden feelings about ourselves. Fuck. It feels so bad to go forward with this self-hatred drama. It has left me with nothing. Nothing. . . .

On another subject. . . Does that guy like me? I got a look at myself in a window reflection, sagging breasts, low-income looking, in my wheelchair. . . . Sigh. Does anybody like me? Sad day.

On the other hand: I was early for court. I did eat breakfast. I got the continuance and the trial I asked for. My look wasn’t together but the Lord told me not to strain myself with that. Basically I was guided to not strain my body anymore trying to run officey errands to prove shit to people. Cause . . . fuck it.

. . . Fuck that contractor too. What a couple of days. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

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