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Writer's pictureSasha W.

(Sash Cry-Rant) Stuff.

Sash's Note: Members of my fucked-up former family may read this in order to find some way to latch onto my life and attack me in some way. Paranoia or facts, who knows. But if you are reading this, Shit-stain, if my time comes- yours does too. I think you know what that means, you narcissistic degenerate.

So my little "bubble" is on the verge of bursting. That bubble, so to speak is the life I've had for the last decade or so. It's not been a spectacular existence but it was mine. I've already typed a bit about my situation and I'm not even going to link that here, you can fucking look it up in the blog if you really care, which you don't. Which is OK - I don't care that you don't care, even though I felt the need to type that. My justification for this statement is that this blog is more about me venting outwardly than actually wanting people to read this shit.


Anyway, this "Bubble" will burst likely in the next 18 months and I will be living, or not living, depending on the situation, in a different place. Where that is, I don't know. So today, I had an appointment with some people and I'm going to skip right to the good part. "Good" of course, being a sarcastic implication, since there was nothing "good" about this part at all.


In fact, this part threatens to de-rail the entire process. But either way, here it is. I was told that in order to get supported housing/assistance, I must be assessed and put into a "priority grade". They then proceeded to tell me that "Single males" are usually very low on the priority grade. From that moment my entire demeanour went from "Socially-Awkward-Sash" to "Socially-Fucked-Angry-Depressive-Sash".


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