…people are people.
When I am left alone with myself, because everyone is scared everyone else has beg bugs and no-one knows who is infected, it makes blessings happen anyway.
Someone told someone else I had bedbugs and now alot of people believe it but the blessing in that is that people will stay away and isolation, once more, keeps me clean from everything and everyone but myself. It was funny to watch a man grab his girl-friend, who is deaf, away from me and have someone stand as far away as they could on the elevator. Funny to watch them wait for me to get my mail from a few feet away and try to act nonchalant.
This has been the story of my life over and over and it is an old old story and no longer bothers me. It is like the wind. Whatever happens does happen and the rest doesn’t matter. I hope they don’t get bed bugs. I hope I don’t. The fear of them in this building is rampant. Friend making has to wait.
I already met the resident asshole. He looks like a tall version of ‘Elmer Fudd.’ He tried to make me mad but, blessedly, I cannot hear him say anything but mumbles. It drives him crazy to no end, me being deaf on one side. I just make sure the ear that hears nothing is always pointed in his direction and I grin at him and say,
“Huh what? Sorry bub I didn’t get you.”
One good thing about being old. The bullies can’t hurt you anymore. They are just as messed up as you and everyone else is.
One of the staff made fun of my voice until I told him about how the parathyroid surgery permanently screwed my vocal chords and now he does it and I laugh at him and he laughs back and it is a nice joke. No hard feelings.
People LOOK at me and the things they don’t see lead them to think one thing when another thing is true. There are so many ways to judge a book by it’s cover. The latest thing is, “Oh they are letting kids in here now!,” as if the neighbourhood is going to hell. You have to be at least 50 to get in here. No one believes I am. Under the guise of sweetness they try to poke me as if I am a liar. I am thinking of getting a birth certificate and pinning to my clothes every time I leave the room. *grins*
People on the fifth floor say all the bed bugs are on the third floor and the third floor says they are all on the fifth floor and now a new case was found one the first floor. The administrator gave away the reason in a quick lunch meeting. She said that people who are close friends should stop sharing things they have too much of…like food and clothes and such.
I don’t have any close friends yet. I came here when everyone was already scared.
There are three identifiable groups and I like the one at the front tables at lunch. They were cool too until one lady, who shares a name with me, found out her boof and I ate one lunch together and talked. Now he ignores me and she eats downstairs every day. I am thinking that I will stop going downstairs. Only 30 of 80 plus people do anyway. I just went to meet people and there almost is no point with everyone scared of bugs.
I don’t want a boof…not even in real life.
I am the only Muslim here too. I am hoping my bus pass work comes soon so I can mail it in and go tour the city. The residents here are pretty ferociously Christian in a nice way and I am always being hit up to go to Bible study and I might go but I am concerned that they might push me harder if they knew I was Muslim and then I would have to lock myself in my room. *grins* For the umpteenth time in my life someone told everyone I am a witch without my permission! (Why do they always pin that on me?) For now I won’t fight about it they sort of back off from the black hoodie thing. *grins again*
The world is trying it’s best to take me down and out but I am not going to give in. I am a survivour. I am amazing. Ignore me. I don’t give a damn. It almost feels like the world is in a conspiracy to make me blame Allah for the action or inaction of other people.
Allah is Allah.
People are people.
Two different things….end of story.