#texastweakers

I'll keep typing because this started last year before January. Hour after hour after day after week after month and application after application after bloody Flippin God damn another user name and password mother fuxker what the hell do you mean Walmart. Con is unavailable it was unavailable two weeks ago and the cook back there was here this morning when I came by earlier and you're telling me that you're not looking for another one?

But they're watching me smoke meth. And one time I got so stressed out that I recklessly made the comment "I'm (just) about about ready to shoot myself" to a bank representative who took it seriously thentook it too her manager who took it seriously but really they were just exercising their freedom to act retarded as if I hadn't explained to them by now a million times that I did not mean I wanted to hurt myself.

But, low and behold, a good while later ( I'd forgotten about the whole thing with the bank), I see cops approaching followed by the familiar call of "Hey James" that very seldom precedes anything but trouble despite the sincerest of my efforts to remain inconspicuous enough not to attract any attention from the police.

And so begins the saga of I dont want to kill my self part three: return of the assholes. And I know I shouldn't speak disrespectfully of law enforcement but doucebag is only that much less disrespectful and, in total seriousness, I paid my whole demographic's worth of respect during encounters with the police and we're far from being even in that department ever since what doucebag and asshole put me through. Because, apparently, a wellness check doesn't mean checking on a person's wellness. A wellness check appeanently does not consist of such interactions as, "Hey we heard you wanted to kill yourself. You okay? Oh you were just using hyperbole? Yeah chicks're never really cool with manner of expression. You should probably cut back on the metaphors. But okay man well, you take it easy"

Apparently that's not how those are supposed to work.

Instead, a wellness check means we search your bag and we pat you down and we're not convinced that you're not planning to shoot us and then yourself at the very first chance that we don't give you you sneaky little bastard you. We need to put you in the car while we figure out what the fuck we can arrest you for now go ahead and step out no you still aren't free to go why don't you tell us have you ever jerked off to a lesbian film?

Okay okay. I've been completely and totally honest up until the lesbian thing and that joke was at the risk of this story's integrity. The real question they asked ("Do you have anything illegal in your pockets") wasn't any less incriminating than asking me about the grossly unjustifiable amount of lesbian porn that I have watched would have been.

They knew I did it! And they set me up to fall victim to the situation without reminding me that I had the right to zip my lips. Lips could have used a little nudge in the Miranda bone saying, " you do have the right to not be a whiny little bitch you know"

Cuz folks, Ive heard the evidence and I can stand before God and country steadfast in my belief that no one on this earth wants to hear me talk.

But i didn't know that I had a choice in the matter and tried to get back to the precepts of this fiasco; that's damned weapon that nobody could find. And os I told them that it wasn't a weapon and I told them a little more pleadingly that I didn't want to hurt myself and the. I was practically begging that with the object in my pocket I could not hurt myself but they could hurt me badly by pressing me for it. And so, when my attempt to just kind of show them the tip of it hoping to establish the consequences before they happened, officer opera singer shatters all the glass in the auditorium with her outstanding performance e of "Is that your meth pipe!?!?!?!??? In G#. So unable to bear the weight of stupid on my face I threw it down and broke it in resignation to go quietly. And I told them and hey I'm not resisting and HEY IHMYGID OQ KW WOS DUXK CU J FUCJ FUXJ!!!!

They fucking broke me.

They broke my spirit a little bit but that's mostly in my vagina. I know without a doubt they broke ribcage. I tried to explain the eerie satisfaction of the drip inside my belly by comparing it to a massage but I have never had a massage and ultimately just sounded like a douchbag. In reality, unable to know the experience of having a miscarriage, I think it must feel something like that . My heart ached a little for time times its surely happened.

I didn't get to see an attorney. I wrote her every week and tried calling but no more than three times if only twice and when my day in court finally came and my attorney was "at a doctors appointment" I asked to proceed without her but was told that the prosecutor would not speak to me. I was summoned back to court a month and two days after that where, after fourty-five agonizing minutes I finally got to meet my dear and faithful attorney. I was ready to sign anything I could to get out of there that day so I could finally have some help from an attorney . I took the first offer they gave me and now that I finally have a case in my defense, I'm surely going to be arrested for failing to report. It's been a long month or two and as we all know, I'm not ready to go and pass the drug test. And what's more?

I still can't seem to find a fucking job.

I pled guilty to possessing Marijuana in another town. As a direct consequence of this, my liscense is suspended and I am not eligible to obtain an occupational, commercial, or otherwise provisional liscense and frankly I'm not sure if I can even ride in the vehicle. This despite my spotless driving record. I've never been stopped on a vehicle, only on foot.

So anyway, that's all there is. I still smoke meth, and since that's the only thing that fucking matters to these people I'm sure by the time you get through reading this I'll be in jail again