11.16.2001 || 15h59

Strange thoughts and an utter bitchery

The world's full of futwicks. To-day I got a letter from my insurance people pertaining to my insurance claim. It was asking for my panorex so they could adequately assess my claim.

My attached insurance form was stamped 'received' on the 25th of October. The date at the top of their letter was 13 November. Fuckers.

Oh, the letter was addressed to my Dentist, not to me.

I'm glad I paid into that plan. It all makes sense now: Give them money and gnash your teeth in frustration.

So, I called the frigging insurance people, but their office is closed due to an anthrax scare. Great. Just great.

I must go buy my ticket to NYC. I was going to go after work to-day, but I was too tired.

So, I got paid for one of my contracts finally. I can afford to buy the bus ticket. I also went and paid the deposit for my acting classes at the Montr�al School of Performing Arts.

Yadda yadda. Pay out: Bell, Vid�otron, classes, cellphone, rent

I'd really like my wisdom-tooth money back.

**********

Behind me, Tarot's digging through some papers; seeing what lies under them. Goofy cat: he's sitting on the papers he's trying to move.

It's beautiful how cats do everything so softly. Whereas people or dogs skitter and stomp their way across their lives, cats pad silently and barely touch anything. I love that softness. I prefer it in everything -- most of the time. for some reason, I feel the light brush of a hand against my back much deeper than a hard hug or hefty handshake. It might be because, even after so long of being past my past, it's still a new thing. In some ways, I'm still the rudeboy lying in the gutter while skins take down a friend; I'm still the ignorant ghetto urchin from Patricia Avenue who got kicked up by the Viet-Namese kid with the aluminium baseball bat from the next block in a disasterous gangfight. I'm not completely civilised yet, and I still love the savage more, though I try to deny it.

Looking back over the past couple of years, I guess I generally felt it best during violent, thrashing sex. I never, ever went past a certain point, because I never knew where it could go: I dislocated someone's jaw by accident, once. I was scared and mortified when it happened, though we later laughed about it, and she took to clicking her jaw at me and grinning.

But I never let it boil up when I'm angry. I'm still too in love with the light touch to ever go back to the hard one. The savagery doesn't correspond to anger anymore, it seems rather an avenue of release or of exploration. Don't ask why because I just don't know.

Must go. Tarot and Diarmuid want to be fed...



||Gods save the Queen,
||cf

back || forth

older shite

One last little note... - 09.21.2006

de-stressing, biking and terrorism - 06.06.2006

Mildly stressed... - 05.29.2006

More crime stupidity - 05.28.2006

Scary stuff - 05.25.2006



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