30 years down the tube. That's what's happened ... everything that I ever owned, everything with some meaning in my life has been sold to strangers. Unknowing, uncaring strangers thousands of miles away in another land.
Why and how you ask? Because I fell back on my payments to the storage place in NYC - only by three months. So they auctioned everything off. They say they sent notice by registered mail but I didn't receive it. I could (and do want) to sue them but to what purpose? I don't have the money to sue. And it won't get my stuff back...
So my life is done. Gone. All the little things and the big things... everything I collected and put together - being pawed over, torn apart, thrown away, bought for probably 10 or 20 dollars.
Once before this has happened to me. When I left so many things behind in England. But I was younger then, more resilient about standing up to blows like this... now 30 years down... I am numb.
So what do I do? At the end of the day what does this make me? A failure that's what. Can't get a good job. No savings. At the mercy of fate. Maybe it's worth staying married to arse holes - at least I would have felt useless in the lap of luxury. So what if mental and emotional abuse would have been the price to pay... I wouldn't have had to worry about paying bills. Because the arse hole would have paid...
So now, here I am, as bare of possessions as the day I started out on my own.
Cest la vie...
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1 comment:
The way I see it... starting afresh isn't always a bad thing. Also, you still have me for bad baggage.
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