Not much to do except to sit quietly in a corner and marvel at the fuckedupness of it all. With the landlord snooping around, I wonder if the hammer is about to fall?
They don't like my act. My act is to talk about things that bother me about the building and conditions here. I'm like Henry with his "plights and gripes." I don't tell them how great they are.
I would have been beheaded in the French Revolution.
I would have been one of the European fascists' earliest victims last century.
But this is the American epoch, and the time is now. The enemy works in subtler ways, a refined expertise.
Just a lot of crap to have to put up with when you can't buy them off. If you can't buy people off you're gonna get stepped on.
You're gonna get sucker punched. I can almost feel the calamity building.
Piss on it
TS
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