Crime and Punishment
Back when I could read for enjoyment, Dostoyevsky placed near the top on my short list of favorite authors (Also belonging in that group were Jack Kerouac, Hunter Thompson, Kurt Vonnegut, Chuck Palahniuk, and of course, the best of the bunch, William Burroughs - but that has nothing to do with anything here). The point I was going to make here and going forward has much to do with me being punished… and then as a means to further assess, following along as I take a philosophical approach, weighing things out in the style of Fyodor, the Russian writing savant.
But that seems like a lot of work. So instead, I shall do my usual thing.
Accusations
Dateline: Yesterday
This is them asking me:
"Did you steal money from his safe and wallet? And did you happen to steal any of his invaluable - according to him - collector's coins?"
"Them" was the gang from social services… specifically, The Director, and a subordinate.
"He's claiming that hundreds of dollars in value are missing."
Basically, I've been accused of committing felonious crimes against a fellow resident. And guess who that might be? Well, it's a former roommate. Believe it or not, Ripley!
Police involvement may be on the agenda.
Hmmm… I wonder if they'll take me downtown?
So you know, I absolutely do not steal things. I'm not like that. I've never been like that. Yet my former roommate (Johann) is accusing me of stealing hundreds of dollars worth of…. ummm… dollars… I guess. The time frame in question? Well, apparently my thievery took place way back in October.
Since I don't steal things, I denied all wrongdoing - which makes sense. Why confess to a crime I have not committed? Unless there's some sort of precognition involved. You know, like that movie based upon the Philip K. Dick short story, Minority Report… it's the movie featuring Tom Cruise.
Oh yeah, Philip K. Dick is also one of my favorite authors. But you won't like him. He's kind of bizarre, weird, offbeat, off center, and occasionally drug-induced.
Anyways, back to thieving -
Heck, I'm the damn person who suggested we get a security camera for our room. And I'm the one who insistently reminded Johann to do a better job at locking down his possessions. A common occurrence entailed him leaving his full-of-cash wallet out on his tray table after abruptly departing from our room.
So yeah, this could be interesting, but I don't feel as though the staff members believe I am guilty.
Misery
And all the while, yours truly was fully enmeshed in a Day of Pain - Physical pain, to the extent that I necessarily ice-packed my gut in order to numb the rather unpleasant sensations.
But hey, that's just me being a complainer. And nobody likes a complainer AND a thief.
Torture
Now suddenly, mental anguish is on the agenda. Yes, it really is. And I shall explain in detail, as that's how this writing thing works.
We (the nursing home) were bought out several weeks ago. And this new corporate ownership group is intent on making this facility a post acute treatment center (more profit), versus a nursing home (where people simply go to die).
Meanwhile, I am currently residing in their sweet spot. Unit One. And because they need my room, they are relocating each of the permanent residents from my unit, over to the Unit of Death (and Post-mature Demise). The end of the line. A place that reeks of piss and vomit 27 hours a day. A locale where television volume exceeds recommended standards by a multiple of 2.374, which is excessive beyond anyone's imagination. And more often are there unacknowledged cries into the night.
Lights and Tunnels
Based on simple mathematics, I should (or shouldn't be) approved for SSI within the next 60 days or so. Either way, my plan is to leave this facility. Soon.
IF I stay here (in the nursing home, or move to a group home) after getting approved for SSI, I would receive $30 per month. IF I share an apartment with somebody, I'd receive $600. And IF I were completely on my own (apartment or homeless), I'd be rewarded a whopping $914 each month!
Yes people, that's math.
The most important thing right now is that I put together enough money to acquire teeth. Implants. Partials. Become a magnet mouth. Whatever….
Not having teeth really bothers me. Really really bothers me. Super duper bothers me.
If I am once again denied monetary compensation (via SSI), I'll have to get a job somewhere, doing something. Failing that, I need to die. But really, I believe something fascinatingly stupendous is on the verge of taking place within my realm of discontent and myriad discontinuities.
Lights Out
But wait, there's more!
None of the emergency call lights in our unit are currently working. And they've been offline since yesterday afternoon. Sooo… I spent a fair amount of time late last evening assisting fellow residents, because they had no way to call for help. Or assistance. Plus, the emergency fire doors automatically shut (same time the "help" system went down) so we are now somewhat isolated, separated from the nursing station.
UPDATE / Tuesday Afternoon: they just handed out bells to each of the residents, so if something happens, if they get into trouble, they're supposed to shake and ring their bells with religious fervor. Or whichever kind of fervor suits them best.
Picture This
I think those are enough words for now. None of you need more words. Words are taxing and tiring. So instead, I will include recent pictures from my journey down the unbeaten path. Unbeat? The path always wins. At least in this lifetime. Or unless there's vegetative overgrowth. Or erosion. Or a volcanic eruption nearby. But generally speaking, the path is unbeatable. Unless you work with a demolition crew. Or there's a sinkhole. Maybe an asteroid or a meteorite would be problematic as well.
Take care,
Howard
Each of you flower pictures were taken as part of my great escape on a recent overcast day - mostly it's the McDowell Mountains in the background - in the foreground? Flower looking things. Nature.
Then the following pics were taken at the park during a day spent working on music -
Back when I could read for enjoyment, Dostoyevsky placed near the top on my short list of favorite authors (Also belonging in that group were Jack Kerouac, Hunter Thompson, Kurt Vonnegut, Chuck Palahniuk, and of course, the best of the bunch, William Burroughs - but that has nothing to do with anything here). The point I was going to make here and going forward has much to do with me being punished… and then as a means to further assess, following along as I take a philosophical approach, weighing things out in the style of Fyodor, the Russian writing savant.
But that seems like a lot of work. So instead, I shall do my usual thing.
Accusations
Dateline: Yesterday
This is them asking me:
"Did you steal money from his safe and wallet? And did you happen to steal any of his invaluable - according to him - collector's coins?"
"Them" was the gang from social services… specifically, The Director, and a subordinate.
"He's claiming that hundreds of dollars in value are missing."
Basically, I've been accused of committing felonious crimes against a fellow resident. And guess who that might be? Well, it's a former roommate. Believe it or not, Ripley!
Police involvement may be on the agenda.
Hmmm… I wonder if they'll take me downtown?
So you know, I absolutely do not steal things. I'm not like that. I've never been like that. Yet my former roommate (Johann) is accusing me of stealing hundreds of dollars worth of…. ummm… dollars… I guess. The time frame in question? Well, apparently my thievery took place way back in October.
Since I don't steal things, I denied all wrongdoing - which makes sense. Why confess to a crime I have not committed? Unless there's some sort of precognition involved. You know, like that movie based upon the Philip K. Dick short story, Minority Report… it's the movie featuring Tom Cruise.
Oh yeah, Philip K. Dick is also one of my favorite authors. But you won't like him. He's kind of bizarre, weird, offbeat, off center, and occasionally drug-induced.
Anyways, back to thieving -
Heck, I'm the damn person who suggested we get a security camera for our room. And I'm the one who insistently reminded Johann to do a better job at locking down his possessions. A common occurrence entailed him leaving his full-of-cash wallet out on his tray table after abruptly departing from our room.
So yeah, this could be interesting, but I don't feel as though the staff members believe I am guilty.
Misery
And all the while, yours truly was fully enmeshed in a Day of Pain - Physical pain, to the extent that I necessarily ice-packed my gut in order to numb the rather unpleasant sensations.
But hey, that's just me being a complainer. And nobody likes a complainer AND a thief.
Torture
Now suddenly, mental anguish is on the agenda. Yes, it really is. And I shall explain in detail, as that's how this writing thing works.
We (the nursing home) were bought out several weeks ago. And this new corporate ownership group is intent on making this facility a post acute treatment center (more profit), versus a nursing home (where people simply go to die).
Meanwhile, I am currently residing in their sweet spot. Unit One. And because they need my room, they are relocating each of the permanent residents from my unit, over to the Unit of Death (and Post-mature Demise). The end of the line. A place that reeks of piss and vomit 27 hours a day. A locale where television volume exceeds recommended standards by a multiple of 2.374, which is excessive beyond anyone's imagination. And more often are there unacknowledged cries into the night.
Lights and Tunnels
Based on simple mathematics, I should (or shouldn't be) approved for SSI within the next 60 days or so. Either way, my plan is to leave this facility. Soon.
IF I stay here (in the nursing home, or move to a group home) after getting approved for SSI, I would receive $30 per month. IF I share an apartment with somebody, I'd receive $600. And IF I were completely on my own (apartment or homeless), I'd be rewarded a whopping $914 each month!
Yes people, that's math.
The most important thing right now is that I put together enough money to acquire teeth. Implants. Partials. Become a magnet mouth. Whatever….
Not having teeth really bothers me. Really really bothers me. Super duper bothers me.
If I am once again denied monetary compensation (via SSI), I'll have to get a job somewhere, doing something. Failing that, I need to die. But really, I believe something fascinatingly stupendous is on the verge of taking place within my realm of discontent and myriad discontinuities.
Lights Out
But wait, there's more!
None of the emergency call lights in our unit are currently working. And they've been offline since yesterday afternoon. Sooo… I spent a fair amount of time late last evening assisting fellow residents, because they had no way to call for help. Or assistance. Plus, the emergency fire doors automatically shut (same time the "help" system went down) so we are now somewhat isolated, separated from the nursing station.
UPDATE / Tuesday Afternoon: they just handed out bells to each of the residents, so if something happens, if they get into trouble, they're supposed to shake and ring their bells with religious fervor. Or whichever kind of fervor suits them best.
Picture This
I think those are enough words for now. None of you need more words. Words are taxing and tiring. So instead, I will include recent pictures from my journey down the unbeaten path. Unbeat? The path always wins. At least in this lifetime. Or unless there's vegetative overgrowth. Or erosion. Or a volcanic eruption nearby. But generally speaking, the path is unbeatable. Unless you work with a demolition crew. Or there's a sinkhole. Maybe an asteroid or a meteorite would be problematic as well.
Take care,
Howard
Each of you flower pictures were taken as part of my great escape on a recent overcast day - mostly it's the McDowell Mountains in the background - in the foreground? Flower looking things. Nature.
Then the following pics were taken at the park during a day spent working on music -