Saturday, June 8, 2019
I know time is of the essence. I just hope it (time) isn’t so crucial that, as I have
seen with many people with degrees, holding down jobs, and taking in an income on top of it,
they wouldn’t care to investigate where they may, chances that they are failing to meet another
type of standard of intelligence and fairness, such as due to any number of causes, for example
a stigma’s incorporation into thought and reification as a belief that a system is working, when
simple logic or common sense might tell us it’s not appropriate. It’s not because they get away
with treating it as unlikely that they are responsible for doing incredible harm to someone, in
part, incredibly, ultimately, unnecessarily, and thusly as no concern of theirs, as no one makes it
a concern of theirs, as my complaints fall on deaf ears, if I am not threatened with more
impending health crises, for maintaining that I have a grain of sanity, and say, know when my
liver hurts me, after a drink, after a large serving of guacamole, after a tempeh and avocado
sandwich (both meals happen to be high in copper, a concern I would relate to the Wilson’s
Disease discussion below), after a single alcoholic beverage, namely those coordinating with
what are put there by law for a reason I presume, the side-effects list, and no it’s not just that a
person goes from being quite flexible to unable to reach while standing their foot to place on
their socks. These affects, by the way, are ‘more than justified’ for the ‘advantages’ of what is
being done, at the behest of, perhaps, too many persons, their being too important, or perhaps
trustworthy, with whom to argue.
As I omitted below, in my first note, nothing indicates I do not have Wilson’s Disease.
Although, likely not hurting me and doing a crime with a definite victim if no perpetrators,
ostensibly, they say it’s unlikely I have this rare disease, which wise people would know might
become less rare if a free copper level above 25 was thought to be diagnostic, for one think, but
it’s rare, so let’s keep it that way, so they say it’s rare, so they think I don’t have it, so they say I
don’t have it even, like saying they think I don’t, isn’t injurious enough, given the situation, of
reasonable people who acknowledged I could be a reasonable person at times, and maybe
deserved to improve in health, welfare, intelligence, even fiduciary means, for being correct, not
incorrect, what you are guided to do, ostensibly, by your caring parents against people who
threaten you to say one thing, rather than another, (in its most extreme form, really), when
others, if they didn’t have to bail out who they saw as good, demonstrating what they all are like,
had to ensure a person was treated, it’s ‘the system’ working ostensibly, ostensibly, designed
for a reason, and ostensibly, justly so, not simply effectively so.
I was told by Morris Goldman circa 2010, that ‘when you hear hoofbeats think horses, not
zebras’ to describe where he knows what he is doing, and that his testimony, his ‘opinion’ well, if
it’s thought to be serious where inaccurate it would be that, not, implicitly things he knows to be
the truth he’s speaking, and it’s not appropriate much like the Wilson’s rubrics never were
appropriate to apply to my case, which is not an E.R. situation. Merely, people act with a herd
mentality, and find it to be ‘all the doctors’ being correct, ‘by course’ when their ‘expertise’ finds
the same conclusion, and, besides, who am I to stop them, if I am unwell, and trying to recover,
as I was when I was taking zinc treatment, as stipulated for Wilson’s Disease patients, from
around 2010 to around 2017, when I decided to stop, until learning my free copper was well
above normal, and above what some doctors consider a level diagnostic for WD which I first
believed I had in 2005, after graduating from Boston College with a 3.27 GPA and a bachelor’s
degree in English. This, by the way, precipitated a disastrous eviction, where, after convincing
myself it was wrong to have to sell a beloved bicycle and get my credit up I had bought through
Paypal credit, I lost what I still believe to be some easily five-thousand dollars worth of stones,
some of which can be seen on my Facebook profile, and which all were documented, along with
arguments for a layperson to engage with, as to why they were meteorites was deleted with the
downfall, recently, of the Google+ social networking site, which were my prized possessions, in
plastic bags, in a box where they could not be touched, along with liquid foodstuffs, protected by
a camera on a tripod pointing to the rocks balancing on the top of them (some on incredibly fine
edges, which I think are perpendicular at those points the line intersecting the center of gravity
from spinning through the atmosphere and being highly ‘ablated’ thereby). That’s before the
eviction led to them being thrown out most likely, reportedly kept by the landlords, New Era
realty of Logan Square, or by their men working for them at their orders, (as many rocks were
indeed sent to a storage unit, and I had hoarded, foolishly perhaps failing to return the
seemingly lesser rocks to the parklands I found most upon, with a dream of making money from
medical malpractice cases somehow, of the situation being remedied by authorities who
happened upon my account, and my using them in some sort of fountain in a house I would
later acquire)., or perhaps taken by people reading my blogs whose interest was aroused in
what might be worth more than gems (please see my f profile, and MPOD 150305 from Tucson
Meteorites and you can ask yourself if that red/maroon hue is from the oxidation within the
porous fusion crust from time spent in an aqueous environment, and if that’s a meteorite, not a
delusion, as these friends of my parents, all of them they’re making in this, and passing money
to, from insurance and the state and otherwise, as I waste the time, see below, of Michael
Schilsky, and Thomas Schiano, must agree with them, that perhaps more drugs are needed for
this, ‘no harm no foul’ and it takes care of the politically incorrect, yet there without being seen,
‘snake-oil’ too, I guess) {Please if anyone finds my attitude off-putting, and finds themselves
being emotionally involved reading this in that manner, please pass this on, and don’t hastily
exercise the will to place it in the circular file, I beg you spare me, I can’t make this much
simpler, or be any nicer to others, who aren’t common by the way, they’re exceptional, so they
should be able to hear these things, and that’s simply the way things are}
I lived all those years in Chicago, mildly undernourished, hospitalized once after visiting
Northwestern’s E.R. after going off zinc, after due to being bothered by the poor air quality in
Logan Square, taking more than the advised zinc briefly, and becoming anemic, which I stopped
and had planned to not repeat but they, after keeping me there, for I think almost two months,
with the acquiescence of a judge Ellis and a judge Karkula, sent me home anyway, and with a
jab of painful deck timed-release risperidol, that I think did a lot of harm to my physiology, for I
was in an awful mood after that, the worst imaginable, within a few days. That is something,
please forgive me if this characterization is a bit of rambling on here, or seemingly trifling, Ed
Richards seems to enjoy, and I had, anemic, fainted in front of the guardian appraisal troupe he
had sent, since I had fled them to escape the NH guardian he had appointed with the help of
Peter Hurd, John Hinck and Robert Vidavers M.D.s of New Hampshire Hospital, Eric Mart his
acquaintance from trial work, a psychologist that works out of Manchester, and the psychiatrist
Eric works with John Jacobs M.D. of Hooksett, and ruin whatever I am doing out there, for it’s
my fault, and I am, as he is well-sure, mentally unwell, and indeed quite insane, but here, I am,
fwiw, ‘honey’ after dragging the pneumatic pump up from the shed so he can fix the tires of the
neighbor friends of his, a 75 year old former judge from Nashua where Ed practices still, Roger
Gauthier which had to be deflated to remove the new (smashed) r/v from the home two days
ago now. I no longer think of him as ‘a devil’ who it would be wise for me to ‘make a deal with’
as I thought he was on Christmas of 2008, after what the NAAB (National Architecture
Accreditation Board), when I finally wrote them, with all the support and well thought-out advice I
receive from so many people, would fail to respond to, as my complaints about failure to adhere
to their ‘studio culture’ parameters, and my responses led to the near expulsion from SAIC. For,
I had made a clay ‘site model’ of a site with some topography, unlike the rest of the class, I cut
mine into small rectangular squares, and used those to create a pixelated sort of map, but the
river was at the level of the board it was built on, I needed to add another level, according to
Linda Keane and Ellen Grimes, who also made some fantastic statements in class, before a
triumvirate of Hennie Reynders, Anders Nereim, and Ben Nicholson failed to side with me
(Linda: “River city will have to work around us” Ellen: “I don’t like people who have ‘I am a rebel’
written on their foreheads” the inquiries into whether these comments were made were of
course substantial; I had added an early trial massing volume of a building which was like a less
rectilinear version of the Bertrand Goldberg building our site chosen for us by the above was
sited next to, and I have a scar, incidentally, on my forehead, from hyperactivity as a fairly
young child). Also, I failed to color in the collection of ‘objects’ which would be trash from
homeless people, which was supposed to enlighten us about programming, namely what is
done currently on the site, and presumably in the future as well. Well, I am sure these are like
the wise people reading this, getting this far, giving it the time, like it mattered when I put things
on Google and had something like iirc 70 views per day, at times thirty, thousands before they,
before dismantling the site, which had to be loaded linearly, I’ll add, and couldn’t be searched so
people could read it all, took down the labels indicating number of views a site has received,
whatever prompted these various things), not ‘mentally ill’ people like, according to Ed Richards,
Trump who he loves to hate, and the wife of a client for whom is officiating a divorce.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment