Him (in a text message )What was the call for?
Me:Thought you would wanna know I was in the ER this morning.
Sorry to hear that. You ok now? What’s up?
No. Not ok.
have to call the dermatologist in the morning- had a severe reaction 2 the antibiotic ointment
Hope you feel better
Call me its easier than typing.
phone rings.(Oh, that ring- it used to be romantic, now it just makes me want to strangle someone.)
Me: you know how my nails split?
well, this time was different- they split and then everything was different. I couldn’t stop the bleeding.
I thought I’d call to let you know.
I thought you’d want to know.
(did I wait too long? Should I have called earlier? He did say not to call him at work, even if I fell down the stairs and busted my head open.)
Anyhow, just wanted to let you know.
(Say something, jerk….)
Have a good night. Feel better
(really? that? Seriously.)
(I think a stranger would have been more warm.)
What just happened here?
If I put a gun to someone’s head, say, a 30-year-old healthy male, pull the trigger, and kill him, assuming an average life expectancy of, say, 84, you can argue that possibly 54 years of life [were] stolen from that person in a direct act of violence.
However, if a person is born into poverty in the midst of an abundant society where it is statistically proven that it would hurt no one to facilitate meeting the basic needs of that person and yet they die at the age of 30 due to heart disease, which has been found to statistically relate to those who endure the stress and effects of low socioeconomic status, is that death, the removal of those 54 years once again, an act of violence?
And the answer is ‘Yes, it is.’
You see, our legal system has conditioned us to think that violence is a direct behavioral act. The truth is that violence is a process, not an act, and it can take many forms.
You cannot separate any outcome from the system by which it is oriented.
this is so fuckin important
Tons of steroid shot yesterday leave me awake tonight, while I hear the snow coming down, and I think of couples curled up in their beds together.
And I want someone to hold me. But that’s not going to happen, so I’ll curl up with my DVR, and Marilyn Milian and the People’s court, and pray that the power doesn’t go out.
For then I’ll really be alone