Decent Breakfast

The plot twists in this Vares episode were as obvious as any equivalent American procedural. It was the actors who were unsettling: the wounded doctor in gauze shaking like a coward while his patient with stymied suicidal impulses kills his wife, and the Finnish Godfather, whatever he should be called. It is perturbing that Eastern Europeans look like a society under post traumatic stress, never mind the narrative. The men look blasted by famine, the women malnourished,, weary and gaunt if attractive, pallid and pasty like stale dumplings if homily and obese. This is Vladimir Putin's claim toward a resurgent Russian dominance?,

This is what the U.S. has to look forward to while progressives keep surging relentlessly? In all this time I've been raising my voice, I've raised it because the system invested in me up to a point after my life long paces in a strenuous institutional model that make Angstrom's reopening of the gulag, this time for corruption rather than dictatorship, seem like a weekend holiday. I do not need to keep revisiting what I've told you about, trying to be a competitive employee in power chairs on buses, Septa's Paratransit curtailment using a bidding contract with this venerable institution to do it. I was a patient at Moss briefly, hoping they could undo some of Shriner's aggressive surgical damage to my feet, but the doctors were concerned about the already significant loss to my educational calendar, so all bets rested on my astute and clever acumen, and we've seen how that has fared in my greater Delaware Valley journey.
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Such a bleak assessment of the human condition. Finland, of all places. The Swedes? They lie just to cash in on crime drama television, but what Majek dredges up to imitate hard boiled noir feels like an authentic disparity indeed. The loss of all hope crushes the spirit, and I've taken this blow (childhood institutionalization) by blow, (family mental illness and death of siblings) by blow (domestic abuse) by blow (city governance corruption) and my foreign viewers must be amazed that I'm a disabled American who is still vested in the exceptionalism of the United States. Philadelphia has its own subjugation tactics in relation to mental heath and chronic conditions. It is a wonder I just don't fold up the damn tent. I've never had a vacation, not of my own making. Padre took me to the Poconos as a kid and it was a disaster. I had stress incontinence without having the classification for it back then, my sister Stephanie screamed when our father left the room, as she often did back then, my dead brother Nicky stole the waitresses tips, and now I'm telling my HUD contracted landlord with their hypocritical Protestant exploitation ethics that they are going to compensate me for years of duress. How deep does the damn sinkhole go.