Apartment Update

     I’ve had a few requests from readers about my living status.  Yeah, I’ve been avoiding talking about it for a few days.

     First, I’m grateful anyone cares.  

     Second, I don’t have time–I literally don’t have time–for your judgement.  How dare you.  I’m trying to survive.  What, do you think I didn’t pay my landlord because I blew my money on frivolities?  I like to shop, maybe?   

       I’ve been living hand to mouth for ages now and I knew when I left the Surgeon that I was forfeiting my only protection (not to mention bringing his wrath down on my head).  He seldom gave me money after the relationship became personal, but at least I always knew that it was there.

       I am temporarily bestowed with beauty and relative youth.  Society affords monetary value to these traits.  They are commodities.  That’s a fact.  I did not invent this rotten system, but I live under it.  

        Selling access to those commodities is not “the easy way out,” as some jackass who emailed me put it.  Think it’s easy?  You try doing it, asshole.  Oh, you can’t?  Because you’re a man and can’t conceive of being in my situation.  Because the choice does not exist for you.  Because society doesn’t demand and fetishize these things from you, and then cruelly think less of you for providing them.  To you, it’s not wrong that this system exists.  To you, the only thing worthy of shame is the woman. 

         There is no easy way out.  I wish there were.  Every option that I have is BAD.  

          I live on the edge of society.  I always have.  Despite the consequences. Know why I do it..?  Because I’ve liberated myself from culture’s tyrannical horseshit, and that includes the morals that are preposterous and the values systems which are fucked up.  You want that idiocy?  Religion and God?  That absurd bourgeois mentality?  Fine.  You can keep it.  Enjoy it.  Your life is probably more secure than mine.  But I am free.  I am fucking free, and I don’t owe you, or anyone else besides the people I love, a goddamned thing.  I deliberately refuse to live off of a goddamned man and I refuse to be beholden to anything or anyone that I do not choose, and that includes you and the stigma you think I ought to carry.  I obey the law because I fear the power of the state and I don’t hurt people because I am a kind person. The way that I treat people speaks for itself.  That is who I am. Otherwise?  The values I live by are my own.  I picked them.  Me.  

       You try to shove your shame on me, and I’ll rip off your goddamned arm and shove it up your ass sideways.   

      My father was a very bad man, but he was talented, and he passed some of his talents on to me.  He lived exactly as he wanted to, and he wasn’t afraid of anyone.  He has fears, but they are not human.  He is truly an outlaw.  The only difference between he and I is that I have morals.  

       Think about that next time you open your mouth to shame me. 

      Memo to self: Be more like Franz. 


2 thoughts on “Apartment Update”

  1. Ms M,

    Nice rant! You do rock. But some of us are concerned about you for real. I trust you will prevail. Go get what you need. Just be careful out there, girlfriend!

  2. Thanks. I wrote this is a state of white-hot piss off. Rage is not a typical emotion for me. Though the people who know me best say that I am at my best when I am angry.

    I’m trying to sustain it now. It is a source of power, and no matter what I have to do now, I’ll need my armor on.

    One of my friends really put things in perspective for me when he said, “You have done nothing wrong.” I felt so guilty about being in this position–like I was a failure as an adult. I just hate so much to feel like a beggar, with my hat in my hand and my other hand out. I can see why people in this situation kill themselves. It is that humiliating. (I am not going to kill myself) I had no idea that I was so proud, but I guess I am. Very proud. Is that bad? Is it a character flaw? I don’t remember what the nuns said about that one.

    My Canadian friend said that something like half of all college grads last year moved back in with their folks. That’s a fact. It does not mean that they are losers or bums. That made me feel better.

    My landlord is being mean and I don’t deserve it and if I am a loser right now, well, the economy and a bunch of Wall Street sociopaths have made losers of us all. WE ARE ALL LOSERS NOW! LOL LOL that should be a campaign slogan. LOSERS UNITE! REVOLT OF THE LOSERS! LOSERS AT THE GATE!

    I wish the Surgeon wasn’t so scary. I was thinking the other day, “What sort of person would have sex with someone he knew was only doing it because she was paid or coerced?” Yeah, we all know the answer to that question.

    I fucking hate that I’m thinking so much about him again. He was mostly out of my head until this shit happened.

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