I was walking to the grocery store with a neighbour friend, and saw a man across the street who was staring at me shamelessly, and not in a friendly way. He looked like he may have been the technician that pierced my chest months ago. Maybe he’s not satisfied with having injected some horrible disease into me, because I’m still able to enjoy life despite that, so far anyway. Oh well, what can I do? I’m not going to start carrying a knife with me. Or pepper spray. Hmm. Maybe I should go find myself a little canister of pepper spray. My middle finger of my left hand keeps spasming from side to side.
I enjoyed spending some time at the cafe with N this afternoon, and walking with her. I bumped into A too and that was good. My finger’s stopped spasming.
A neighbour just came over to give me a necklace with a butterfly pendant on it. I invited her to sit down and hang out. We chatted. She asked me what the meaning of life is to me, and I said that I just practise awareness of the present, and hope to spend some quality time with Morrissey. Then I asked her if she wanted to hear a Morrissey song, and she answered yes so I played I’m Not A Man, and we were silent while listening to it. She might knock again this evening if she decides to take a walk with me. I showed her and another neighbour what tahini is today. Hummus too. I showed one neighbour what hummus is.
I wonder if that malicious technician is after me, angry that I’m not doing more poorly by now. I got a bad vibe from whoever that was staring at me from across the street today. Same vibe as that technician’s. I’m still going to go walking this evening, with my neighbour or alone, and if the technician kills me, then he kills me. I just do my best. I have no pepper spray or Swiss army knife to carry in my pouch, so it’ll be easy for him if he’s intent on doing me in. I hope Morrissey will get Nancy Sinatra to have her connections find him and hold him accountable if he finishes me off this evening. Bonfire of old ladies.