My sixty year old roommates call the female care attendants “their girlfriends.”  One of my roommates takes out female attendants “girlfriend” to restaurants.  He “dates” a thirty year old woman with MS, taking her to a restaurant once a month.  That’s the highlight of his month.  The other roommate plays on all day chatting with women across the world, looking for a wife.  No woman would want him!  He just is a pervert.  My attendants ask me who is my “girlfriend.” I laugh since I never had a girlfriend and I probably won’t have a girlfriend.  I have a lot of women in my life, including my “sisters” my college classmates who I tell everything.  What woman would want me?  I drool and shit in the pants.  Sex is always on my mind but I will never have it.  My care attendants can’t get me ready to have sex.  After the care agency supervisor accused me of having relations with a female attendant, I gave up women!  I will go to the strip club and look at naked women like my nonverbal friend who committed suicide.  He loved women but never had sex.  I guess that will happen to me.  It drives me mad, but I understand!  I’m just a client to the system who must follow the rules even though the supervisors told that I can have sex in my room.  Disabled advocates always lied to me anyway.  If I didn’t have a career, an agent, family and friends who care about me, I would kill myself!


January 12, 2016

It’s my birthday this week.  I’m forty eight.  Well, I think that I will go out to eat for lunch for Mexican food with one of my attendants.  Sleep the rest of the day before returning to writing tomorrow.  April is on my mind now.  I can’t wait to see my writer friends and agent.  I keep moving forward with my life.  That’s what Mom would have wanted.  I miss her!

Managing this Life

January 5, 2016

I’m managing eight care attendants while writing two books and working with my agent.  Sometimes I don’t have clothes to wear when attendants decide not to do their job. I go to appointments on my own since my case manager is running here and there.  Nothing gets done.  So I do it myself.  I do everything now, but I can’t have sex.  My attendants can’t help me get ready according to the system.  The system doesn’t care about people like me.  That’s why some talented physically disabled people commit suicide.  I’m lucky to have people who love and care about me, but I guess that I won’t ever have sex.

Happy New Year … not.

January 1, 2016

It’s New Year’s Eve and I’m writing.  I almost have a book for my agent to read.  New York, right Tina?  My roommates have been in bed for five hours now.  I started writing at one and I will finish at four am.  The house that I manage now is falling apart since Tom Miller doesn’t show his face at his houses.  The house that I manage hasn’t had a dryer for over a week now!  Laundry is piling up, making the house stink.  My employees won’t take the laundry to the laundromat because they want mileage and overtime.  Meanwhile my employees don’t want me to email anything about them, but when something goes wrong with my house, “Steve, email Tim.” I’m writing two books.  I’m working until four am.  No shower for over a week.  My employees are too busy on their cell phones, talking, except Daro and my brother.  I have to do managing and write!  I can’t have a woman because the stupid system won’t let my employees get ready.  I can’t do everything!  New York, right Tom?  Then get your ass over here and talk to me.  I will be up at eleven.  I apologize, but I didn’t create this mess.  My wish is a book, an office, quiet and peace.  Things must change or I will break.  We are close, Tom.  Please take my new job away and let me write.  Thank you.