Well then.
I recently experienced my fourth stay in the psychiatric ward. Cause? Who knows. You see the building I live in was recently sold to a new landlord. He increase the rent a hundred bucks which prompted all the nice neighbors to move out. Which led to a hoard of crack-heads and ex-homeless losers to move in.
The immediate result was that everything located outside the building was stolen including my mountain bike. There was also a constant flow of drunken homeless losers in the halls looking for a place to flop. And... yes... my apartment was burglarized. The losers even stole the hard-drive out of my desktop system.
I have finally come to the realization that the homeless, without exception, suffer from a debilitating disease called kleptomania. There is not a single homeless person I have encountered, many of whom I have helped, who hasn't ripped me off. I give up and will never again attempt to help them. So sad.
And... I was mugged just across the street from my building. Some fucking homeless punk just had to have my backpack. And since I live in a small town the cops are absolutely useless. I called them to complain about the threats I received in the hallways and they PC'ed me. Never again.
To make a short story a little longer my nerves snapped. I am not from this tub-of-shit town and went on a peaceful bender to kill some of the anxiety. And since I am not a young man anymore my heart started to flip-flop and my brain started to DT which led to a 911 call and the psychiatric ward. I had started closing in on the bipolar schizophrenic mode. What a fucking lousy life.
Later.
