A true story in verse

  A little old man had a little old house.  He wasn't much liked, got treated like a louse. No friends at all, and family unseen, this little house is the best it's ever been.

The neighbors saw the disarray, the size of the lot, the possible pay. "We should save this poor man, and send him away, then the lot can be developed and children can play. He'll get a better place, somewhere away, this eyesore just cannot stay." 

So the marshall was called, his face was appalled, the little old man was alone. His manners were foul, his clothes even worse, and even his car was begging for a hearse.  No trial, no mercy, just boards on the door, he just couldn't go and live there any more. He haunted the yard, he lived in his car, then the thing needed repairs and could not go that far. The city they came, still once again, and took that shelter too, and left him in the rain.

The moral of my story, and this is quite true, you aren't always helping with the help that you do. Had he but some care, some support and some aid, then he could have kept his home and stayed.

Popular posts from this blog

End of January, good news mostly

I feel so solitary tonight. Like, I want to just talk about things but there's not really an outlet. I went to the knitting group for the 3rd week. I was proud to show off my socks but they were ignored, except maybe for the dude who soon after went from sitting beside me to sitting across the room and table from me. Swiftly, much less. I found that move so pointed I just packed up and left. After all, I wanted to learn socks and I did.  This has me having to think more deeply about my desire for community vs my nerves. See, another thing I just figured out is what ails me. It's not CFS, or MS or another mysterious nervous system disorder. No, it's simple nervous exhaustion. I didn't realiize itcould manifest like this.With such a wide range of alarming symptoms. So I am now adding nerve system rest to my lifestyle. One way is to lay quiet with ablindfold, possibly knitting, or with ambient or classical music playing and no ads. Another is to mask the city noises ...
Read more

why I do my own hair

I booked myself in for a hair appointment yesterday.  I thought it went well, although during some points I sensed she'd turned on me.  However, she was too professional to be obvious about it so I wasn't able to know if it was paranoia or instinct, you know?  I mean, normal humans would sense these things clearly, I'm just left with a vague uncertainty I can't trust.  I can't ask anyone about it as they'd always lie.  Humans always lie.  That's the problem.  They lie, and they expect you to do the same and I just can't. I got done my hair appointment, she tried giving me a discount, several times, as though she'd done something horrible to me, but I was innocent yet.  When I was giving my hair a better look in the bathroom I finally realized she'd swapped the pink and blue colours and I had blue hair with pink accents instead of pink hair with blue accents. I stopped by the salon to make sure she knew, and she acted like she thought that was w...
Read more

does anyone care?

"Meltdowns can take the form of screaming, crying, physical aggression or it can be a shutdown where there is no speaking or activity. In either situation the person with ASD is in tremendous distress. Their safety and emotional stability should be the top priority above all other considerations." I saw this video of a kid having a tantrum and his dog interfering to comfort him. It was titled "dog helps asperger's kid with meltdown."  It was exactly the kind of emotional meltdown I suffer all too frequently. It left me weeping.  Why?  Because everyone seemed to give a damn about the kid's emotional distress.  I've never experienced that.  When I hit emotional distress it's always been a case of "oh there she goes again, taking over the room with dramatic hysterics.  Get her out of here and make sure she regrets it." Now I see above that there are people who actually think it's not okay for someone like me to feel the way I do so oft...
Read more