It was not my intention to fight a war with the mob. (Still don’t know if Boccie is real mobster are just a rich dick who acts like one) I just wanted to be left in peace to read some good books, and tend to my beading. I’m a quiet sort,, when left on my own.
But Boccie tried to have me killed and that did irate me.
At first it was a defensive battle. Heck I’m just a gal with a stubborn streak facing down a gaggle of hired thugs, (all I presumed armed) a win you don’t get. Maybe at best a stalemate, live and let live, I ignore your shit you leave me the fuck alone. Or maybe pay me to go the fuck away deal. I’ll deal but I wont be pushed.
After I figured out their nifty keen booby trap, well it became more then clear that Boccie wasn’t going to be at all reasonable.
I set the fire in my apartment deliberately, with the intention of being sent to a mental institution as a danger to self and others. A mental institution was one place I was pretty sure Boccie wouldn’t be able to kill me in. When you can’t get the police to protect you, well any port in a storm.
It was a bit of a gamble.
Arson after all is a pretty big bad and does get one set to the big house. I kinda thought that would be very bad for my health. I was pretty sure that Boccie would not file charges, would not want me talking in court. Not, mind you, that I thought arson as self defense would have much of a chance.. But if your in the Mob or doing Mobster type big bad things, you most likely don’t want your name in court records saying your doing bad things.
An innocent man would have no fear of a crazy person yittering on about his imaginary connections to murder and drugs. A guilty man wants not even the whisper of ill repute attached to his name.
Once in the MHRF it was a waiting game. Really I had no exit plan other then to wait for the right opportunity. Given enough time, something almost always happens.
The talks with Burt, was just something I did to pass the time. The conversations happened and covered the topics I have recounted in the blog. I have taken some liberties with it all, only in condensing long conversations spread out over weeks to a single conversation.
The closing of the MHRF.
Broken people need to be cared for.
This is a standard of proper civilized behavior I had well before Boccie became a pain in my ass. The measure of a society is in how it cares for the weak the helpless and the broken. the city deciding to stop caring for it’s broken, well it pissed me off, in a deeper way then Boccie. (Mind you attempted murder is a class of rudeness that I don’t forgive or forget) still he was attacking me, the city was choosing to inflict pain on the most helpless, the most vulnerable and why? Because the weak are easy targets.
HOW DARE YOU!!
How dare you, you in all your comforts and privileges, How dare you in your ease ask the most burdened by pain to shoulder more? How dare you with a full belly and padded expense account ask the hungry to give you bread? How dare you in your Egyptian cotton sheets roll out of bed to steal the pillow from the shelter less?
This isn’t new, look around you. Look look actually look at the people laying lost and broken on our city streets. We have gotten so used to the sight we don’t see them any more. Human pigeons, and we treat them like pigeons, ignoring them, sometimes (often) complaining about their need to shit, (
FYI the need to shit doesn’t end when you don’t have a bathroom) and sometimes tossing them a few crumbs, cause it makes us feel good and it’s kinda cute seeing them scrambling around for your ‘treats’.
So yah it was my intention to turn back the tide just this once just here. a small win, Keep the MHRF open so some people would get some care. I didn’t expect to win. It was at best a long shot with so many things that had to fall into place. But in the words of Han Solo, “Kid, never tell me the odds.”
Where do I go from here?
Now here I’m stuck. I’ve done what I set out to do, and I’ve written it all down. yaaa me. Honestly I didn’t think I would ever get the writing of it done. Well I say done, but it’s not, I suck as a writer. I do want to publish it all as a book but, so much yet to do and I don’t know if I have it in me to finish. the editing the polishing, the legal end, who do I send this too? ahh balls.. I’ll figgure it out. I always do.; But heck if anyone wants to join in. I’m open to just about anything. anyone want to ghost write? ‘as told to’ based on a true story, the byline is all yours. I don’t have any money but it is a good story, (even if you don’t believe me to be anything but mad)
any how you have any questions or just want to drop me a line telling me to shut the hell up. (I won’t but but you can tell me to if it pleases you)
e mail firstname.lastname@example.org
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Hey di how everybody keep up the good fight, care for the helpless, and have a sun sunny sun shine day.