What Was I Thinking?

Baltimore Maryland, Urban Blight 2 Minutes

I went from this:

to this:

Indeed, what in the world was I thinking?

Going from this?

To This?

Oh hell nawwww!

 

Since coming to Baltimore, I have experienced more crazy shit than I can shake a stick at. I have never seen anything like what I have seen for the past 10 months, that’s 10 months. I cannot even survive a year in this hellhole!

As some of you may know, I have been carjacked, bus robbed, shot at and someone tried to break into my home. I was taken to the hospital twice and never made it out of the hallway into a room and my head was up against the restroom door. When I was taken back to the hospital, I was taken to the same exact hallway, placed on a bed outside the exact same restroom door, directly from yet another crime scene. And as out of it as I was, I thought the nurse said she was giving me Demerol, only to find out that she had hit me up with Fentanyl. That was the most horrid drug experience ever. I thought I was dying and yet it did nothing for the pain I was in from having hit my head over trying to dodge bullets by falling down a flight of stairs. Why they give people Fentanyl is a mystery to me because it only makes you high, but does nothing for the pain you’re in.

For anyone that is reading this, I am strongly advising that you STAY OUT OF BALTIMORE MARYLAND!!! Never even visit this place! My shit is being packed as I type this and the moving truck has been ordered! If you’ve ever thought to experience what hell is, it is here in Baltimore, MD! Never, ever come here! And as bad as it sounds, it is far, far worse!!!

I cannot believe that I was so naïve to think that I could come to this cesspool of filth, corruption and crime and make a difference. Again, I have no idea what the hell I was thinking, but I am soon to be outta here! I can’t leave fast enough!

Ducking and dodging bullets is NOT my idea of having a good time, nor is it entertaining. For the love of !!!!!

Published by ShelbyCourtland

I am an advocate for the poverty stricken, homeless, hungry, voiceless people who are considered to be the 'unwashed' masses but whom I consider to be the unsung heroes for surviving a never ending battle waged against them in the form of poverty wages, no benefits, living paycheck to paycheck, needing medical coverage while employed, trying to feed their families on stagnant wages that have not kept pace with inflated prices. And so the battle continues.....

Published

26 thoughts on “What Was I Thinking?”

    1. Prince, I kid you not, I am utterly devastated by my experiences here. I thought that since I had lived here previously, that I could hack it. Was I ever wrong? I am going to my version of “Mayberry, USA” and I am not leaving once I get there! I cannot take this, this disgustingly horrid hell!

      Liked by 1 person

      Reply

      1. I don’t blame you at all. Being in a bad environment can drive you crazy. You can never find peace. The most important thing is that you have peace of mind. So if you have to move…..then so be it.

        Liked by 2 people

      2. Prince, that is something that I have truly missed; peace of mind or just plain, PEACE! I cannot find any here and right now, I just want to go somewhere that doesn’t even have internet service, phone service or any service, for that matter and just breathe. A person can’t do that here, especially if they aren’t used to this which I’m not. No more big cities for me, not ever! This is the first time that a place where I lived has sent me fleeing in abject terror and people don’t usually consider me to be wimp-assed. But I’ll even take that label and git ta steppin’ with it! Fer sure!

        Liked by 2 people

  2. Mannnn oh man! I hate it that you had to endure that dreadful experience. Yet the saying goes, “whatever doesn’t kill you makes you stronger.” I’m pretty sure you’ve grown from this even if you’ve decided to move away. As I’ve gotten older I’m beginning to understand that you don’t always have to change the world, alot of times it’s just about the life experiences and the lessons you learn from them. I hope you get well, minus the Fentanyl smh LOL 🤕🤕🤕 that sucks!!!

    Liked by 2 people

    Reply

    1. Thank you The Melanin Man! I had every hope of attempting to be a part of the solution in a predominantly Black city, but I just cannot hack it. Everything I attempted to do that was of some good, was met with an opposite reaction. Sometimes, we just have to step back and decide that there is just nothing we can do about some things. And there is just nothing of any good that I can do here. I never wanted to write this city off, but that is what I am going to have to do because I am not immortal and I’ve been at more crime scenes than I cared to be at. I’ve always hated to give up, but this time, I feel I have no choice.

      Thank you for understanding that I’ve got to do what I’ve got to do!

      Like

      Reply

    1. Thank you Leslie. I am heading out of here in a few days time. My things are mostly packed and I am heading to Smalltown, USA and that’s that! No more big cities for me, ever! I never want to see a big city again and if I hear the name BALTIMORE, I shall surely need a straight jacket.

      Leslie, again, I thank you for that most heartfelt comment. It is much appreciated.

      Liked by 1 person

      Reply

  4. Thanks for sharing your firsthand experiences Shelby, that is some ate-up shit — not to move is to live in the State of Catatonia, and that doesn’t help anyone anywhere. I’ve read that there are striking parallels between life in Baltimore and episodes in the HBO series “The Wire,” but it sounds like HBO added some sugar-coating (imagine that) to the grit. And now we have irrealism written by an unreal real president in the real Oval Office. To quote Vonnegut — and so it goes.
    Bill

    Liked by 3 people

    Reply

    1. Bill, thank you! But what I have written in this post here is not even the half of it. My cousin was shot up and is still recovering because these maniacs just shoot indiscriminately and don’t care who they hit. They’ve come in a bookstore shooting up the place. You can’t own a car here. You can’t ride the bus. If you type in, “Shoot out on a Baltimore bus”, numerous shootings will be listed. One man in Dundalk Maryland can be seen brazenly shooting from inside the doors of a metro bus at police while passengers and the bus driver were fleeing for their very lives. A man got on a bus and robbed us at gunpoint. Another woman shot a man in the back of the bus and calmly got off and walked away. Another man was shot as he was getting on the bus. I’ve never seen anything like this. You cannot pass by anyone who has not been shot up here. This is crazy and you are right, “The Wire” sugar-coated the hell out of this outrageousness going down here, as bad as I’ve heard “The Wire” made Baltimore look. It is a warzone and that is putting it mildly.

      If you check out my post, “Sirens Are Our Lullabies,” that will give you some idea of how bad things are because a man that was trained for overseas combat could not maneuver around the streets of Baltimore. He got shot dead and he was trained for combat. It is horrifying and I only wish I was exaggerating.

      Bill, again, thank you for your comment.

      Liked by 1 person

      Reply

      1. I have just read “Sirens Are Our Lullabies” and felt it as viscerally as it is possible to empathize in a serene and quiet room — you have to be there to know the lullaby, reacting from the safety of the armchair where my elbows rest is so distant from the reality you know to the marrow.
        “Reality” shows create a comforting irreality that soothes the viewer into believing that watching those big lies makes you an informed citizen, a better person, an understanding human. The falsehoods and the surety they bring then get shared among family, friends and workmates, further insulating them from the truth they now seek to banish.

        Liked by 1 person

      2. Bill, you have just got to be a poet because what you write is pure music in true poetic form. What you have written, none could find fault with. Forgive me for this message as I am sending it via smartphone and I am not adept at using these things while awaiting my internet service connection.

        Liked by 1 person

      3. Thank you so much, Shelby. Please know that your words, and the truth they speak, inspire my electronic pen. It is gentle joy to be called a poet 🙂

        Like

  5. Shelby! Eh! I’m beyond hurt that you’ve had to deal with all of that. Honestly, I’m currently living in Anne Arundel county, but Baltimore is where I’ve worked the last 3 years I’ve been up here. Trust me, when I say I’ve had some sketchy moments in the city—and even in an AAC gated community. I can’t say any as vibrant and well-seasoned as you have, but I can definitely understand your dismay. What I will say is that Sapponī Country is all sticks and mudpies, so I was a bit naive too when I first moved here, but it was mindset that changed for me. I really had to start thinking like I lived in the city, vibin’ like I lived in the city, looking like I lived in the sleepless.
    None of this is to say not to uproot yourself and find somewhere new or further from the heart of Baltimore, but it is encouragement to find the silver lining, find some beauty in the concrete jungle. I had too, because at first I was convinced I would never find love for Baltimore. Experiences like you’ve had and those I’ve encountered are truly what helps change the flow of city traffic. 💕💕💕 Always Love!

    Liked by 2 people

    Reply

    1. Egypt English, I sincerely thank you for your comment.

      In the mid 90s when I first came to Baltimore, I was young and so naïve and I truly fell in love with Baltimore. I staggered many a night home from the neighborhood bar that was just like Cheers on TV. Everybody knew everybody and we played shuffleboard, danced to the jukebox and generally had fun. We even threw our own New Year’s Eve party there with everyone pitching in to provide food and drink and the bar served up free champagne and party favors at midnight. Those were the days. I left Baltimore in 2002 and just returned a few short months ago, but the difference is like night and day.

      So, even though I spent nearly a decade in Baltimore, times have changed here so bad, that I hardly recognize that Baltimore of old and I just cannot take what it has become. I don’t usually run from ‘fights’ but this one, I gladly wave the white flag in surrender. I give! I’m down for the count. No more. Maybe, it is just because I’m older now and I’ve lived in areas that were nothing like this one for too long and living in those areas changed me in some way. I don’t know. But what I do know is that I am done, here in Baltimore, so done.

      And again, thank you for your comment.

      Liked by 1 person

      Reply

      1. Of course, of course! And I completely understand now, your experience is well seasoned. I love your Cheers reference, because from what I’m learning of the area daily, many places are far from Cheers, saddening. I can only begin to understand the difference 15 years has made here, from my King’s and his family’s perspective, and now yours, so I pray that you find/found somewhere your heart can be truly content 💕. Thank you for taking the time to further enlightened me with your experience🙏🙏🙏 Biwaha!

        Like

  6. Sounds like an excellent decision, Shelby. Though as I recall your move to Baltimore was triggered by real human needs – high among them a craving for a sense of community you didn’t have in Minnesota. The Wall Street oligarchy and military industrial intelligence complex are doing their best to wipe up community life in the US – it’s contrary to their profit interests. When people are lonely they consume. However I’m aware that people are uniting and fighting for their communities in many small pockets in the US. I fervently hope you will continue searching and eventually find one.

    Best wishes for a safe and (relatively) stress-free move.

    Liked by 3 people

    Reply

    1. Internationally, the MIC ensures that their propped puppet regimes tow the line; domestically, the PIC keeps James Crow alive and dealing. The Wall-Street oligarchs put their smart money on MIC and PIC futures for wealth-management. Capital cares not a whit what happens to individual units expended — whether the units are live resources or munitions. A replenishment order is cut to restore the inventory for every spent bullet. Seek to blame anyone but the death-dealers, blaming the victim is fair play. Leave the collaterally damaged to pull themselves up by their bootstraps (without a skyhook) and to fend for themselves.

      Like

      Reply

    2. Funny you should mention a “stress-free move” as I was just at my doctor’s office today and he noted how stressed I was. My blood pressure was through the roof and he recommended, in addition to a new blood pressure medication, a change of scenery. I had told him previously that I did not think that I could hack it in this city and I told him today that I was moving. He was not surprised. Unfortunately, even as I move from here, I am going to have to come back because my doctor here is the best in the world. He is consulted by most other doctors and every patient in the waiting room today was there for the express purpose of seeing him. He can tell what is wrong with me by just looking at me. He was my doctor when I was here before in Baltimore and I refuse to give him up just because I’m leaving. I can stand coming here every three months to see him, but that is all I am going to do when here.

      I have never been one for consuming, not unless I have to but even I must admit that I’ve spent more money living here than I ever have living someplace else and I get nothing to show for it except for terror, getting shot at, attempted home invasion and the list of the like is endless. I refuse to put up with this and I am supposed to be in a ‘nice neighborhood’. Go figure!

      Dr. Bramhall, I thank you kindly for your comment and yes, I am getting the hell out, ASAP!

      Like

      Reply

    1. Thank you SO much Kelley! I am headed back to Smalltown, USA. I cannot take this. I will never live in a big city; a concrete jungle, ever again! I used to like that kind of life, but not anymore. I guess, in my old age, I’ve mellowed and can no longer tolerate the hustle and bustle especially seeing as how I’ve just come here from big huge farms, open fields, horses in the paddock and county roads and that is what I am going back to.

      Kelley, again, I thank you for your kind comment. It means much to me because you know that I had high hopes of doing some good here. Well, those hopes have been dashed, AND how!

      Liked by 1 person

      Reply

  8. Hey Shelby! I read your report on living in Baltimore and what happened. Yes, you did pick one of the ground zero areas for social and racial tension. The war on drugs has brought war to the streets of the disadvantaged and has taken the medical side of pain management into the hands of the DEA as well. About your Fentanyl issue – it is so much more common that any medical source will admit that not every person has the same chemistry (brain and otherwise) so the med can cause paradoxical effect! I have those and have learned to fight the doctors as they try to deny that reality.

    You are doing the best thing you could do for yourself. When you are in the line of fire you are good to nobody. Joining the oppressed under the same lash will only cause you to be victimized as well. The BIG picture does not preclude your victimization by those you intended to join in solidarity. Take yourself to a peaceful place and secure the being within to be able to withstand the ignorance and violence without. You have culture shock and disillusionment – but a year from now if you get to a place where you can respect yourself and take care of yourself your outlook will be so much more powerful. You can tap your inner being w/o being drained. Patting you on the back for making that tough choice!

    Liked by 1 person

    Reply

    1. Lilly, I had to highlight your comment because it is right as rain. I have never used any illicit drugs in my life. When I was in Minnesota, I was never given anything like what I was given here. It is like these doctors want Black people addicted to that mess. The last thing you should come at a patient with is something as powerful as Fentanyl especially when you can see that they are not, nor could they have ever been a user of street drugs. I seriously felt that I was dying when that mess took hold and believe me when I say that I was still in pain, only high as a kite from that killer mess. They are doing this deliberately to people here because of who resides here. I do believe that this city is some sort of testing ground because you would not believe what I have seen the few short months that I have been here.

      While visiting someone at the hospital, I got lost and this was at Johns Hopkins hospital. I stumbled upon the psych department and while the security guard was attempting to explain to me where I was supposed to be visiting, I saw and heard horrors. Black people were being lined up to receive ‘injectables’. They were injecting those people with powerful anti-psychotics and many were asking why were they still having to receive injections for so many months. Not to mention the fact that Johns Hopkins was recently in the news because an OB/GYN had videotaped hundreds if not thousands of Black female patients and posted the videos on porn sites. He is stated to have killed himself. How did that hospital not know that doctor was doing that and for so long? Also, Johns Hopkins was in the news for using the cancer cells from Henrietta Lack’s vagina to experiment with, without her knowledge or consent. Her family is suing Johns Hopkins Hospital. She was of course, a Black woman.

      There are so many Black people wheeling themselves around in wheelchairs, the sheer numbers are overwhelming. The people who are strung out on Methadone is off the charts. I’ve never seen that anywhere else but here, not to this extent. We had a Methadone clinic in Minneapolis, but you never saw one person nodding and out of it, here it is an epidemic. The water is not fit to drink. Sewage has seeped into the drinking water times too numerous to count. A street just exploded downtown showering nearby businesses with asbestos and again, the list of horrors is endless.

      You are so right! I am doing myself no good by staying here. I will only get caught up in this hellish nightmare and before I become another victim to whatever’s going on here, I am getting out! And culture shock is right! I am literally reeling from shock and extreme disillusionment!

      Thank you so much for that spot on comment. It is right on point!

      Like

      Reply

  9. Dear Shelby – I am sorry to tell you even though I am white I too was mistreated in hospitals. Once they hit my insurance top off of half a million dollars in 2 months (it did take a lot to save my life – but I wasn’t in a state of the art hospital either – I mean, the heat went off when it was in the 20s and they expected us to just endure it. After the horrible thing that happened to me I had severe PTSD – and from my childhood as well. I was born in LA and I grew up a poor kid on welfare. When my father got custody of me the abuse was internal – not due to neglect and a teen aged mother. It was physical, emotional and unfortunately his new wife was a pedophile and he had no idea. After their divorce I took on the household and care of my older brother and younger sister. I was the make my Dad proud kid – and the others were always being hit over the head with how perfect I was – until I was being beaten up for doing something wrong – so yes – a very bad start and early experiences as what would be referred to as “white trash.” So – when one person went to a doctor – they were treated with respect. When my first husband broke my arm (a greenstick fracture twist behind the back – severe – I was kept in the hospital overnight by my osteo doctor. I had a towel pinned around me with this wrapped up arm to keep it attached to my body. I was 19 and very modest still. The doctor told me I could loosen this thing to wash but to wear my husband
    s shirt over me so I wouldn’t have to fit my arm in it. Instead my mother in law got me a couple of dresses w/o arms – tube top types! and when I was due for my meeting with this doctor I did loosen the wrap-, slip a bra up and attach it slide a shirt on and then tighten it on the outside of my clothes. So while we’re sitting in conference with him looking at my arm and how it is still not where he woudl like it – meaning I would need to have a pin inserted (which if I was insured and not poor it would have been done immediately) he noticed I had the wrap on the outside. He yelled at me and said I had caused the problem and he was so angry he couldn’t stand to look at me. I was taken aback and said – with everything I’ve been through, I don’t think it’s appropriate for you to talk to me that way! He invited me to find another doctor. So, shamed openly by all who heard him in the waiting room, I left and my arm was getting no care. I called every osteo in Cincinnati and was turned down by all but one. This doctor I had seen was the big SHIT in town BTW – so this other doctor whose nurse listened to my story and made the appointment and had me come in, caused me to sit in the waiting room until everyone else was gone. He then called me in his office and said – frankly I’m sorry my nurse made this appointment because I play golf with Dr Big and I would rather keep him as a friend than have you as a patient. I was so mortified. I went outside. I stood at the bus stop crying. My husband ( the only person who I had in the world so I had to depend on the one who did it! ) picked me up in his taxi. He heard about this and went into the man’s office and told him off – citing the Hypocratic oath and then calling it hipocritic …so, yes, the white trash parade went through his office. So, all of Cincy knows about this now – and Dr. BIG’s office calls me because he’s looking pretty bad now and if I had any sense I would have sued him – and I return and he puts a cast on. That is all he does, he talks with his nurses while he’s doing it and I’m sent out the door and never checked again until I get it off at the proper time. I had the sense to make up my own rehab and I have tumors in the arm now.

    So – you know I have had a few visits to psych wards. 1st time I was 21 – I had lost my baby when my husband ran me down with a car and it was easy to crush me with little things. I felt suicidal and I went to the ER and was kept for that 36 hour amt of time nobody can get out of. So, I was brought paper to sign to allow treatment. I was smart enough to ask what kind of treatment and was told what the doctor thought I needed and I said, “So, if he decides I need a labotomy I’ve just signed it’s okay? So they thought that was stupid but I refused to sign anything. I was given nothing. There was an 18 yr old girl there who had been in foster or orphan institutions all her life and was a “behavior problem” so they emancipated her and put her in the psych ward! A nurse pushed her buttons and tried to force her to do something so she slapped the nurse! So, TEN guys carry her into the room three of us shared, and stripped her out of her clothes, and put hospital clothes on her as a punishment (I was so scared and shocked at this – it seemed like a rape) and then they strapped her hands, feet and abdomen down very tightly to the bed and left her. I was so horrified and scared Shelby. I was only 21 and this was a shock to me. Old people were attached to chairs and left in the hallways – one guy kept yelling ” Let me up! I’ve got places to go and people to see! ” I felt how powerless and angry he was being made! So, the little girl – after they left asked me to come and loosen the belt tying her down across the mid section and I timidly loosened her up.

    Last year (I’m not 55) I had a reaction to a med called Neurontin. It had been making me have a very skewed emotional outlook – and because of all the horrible happenings – especially a flurry of black men being murdered blatantly w/o recourse by traffic cops and while in custody, as well as things like burning orangetans alive when burning out forested areas to plant palm plants to keep palm oil in all foods to cause food addiction – et al (Yeah – the WHOLE thing was coming at me like there was nothing but bad!). I took a bunch of pills and my adult son caught me as I was heading for the bathroom to get water for the third handful and held me against the wall in the hallway. He is small due to having Crohns disease from an early age and I was ready to throw him down. When I realized I was about to throw down my boy (he is my step son but he is my son! ) I stopped – I got a grip and I started crying.. I had been down for ten years after a doctor destroyed my entire torso – which became necrotic because he left two tears in my bowel and a clamp in through two pieces of intestine. It was a real saga and like I mentioned earlier – once my insurance ran out – I was left to die. Literally. So, it was at the ten year point I got like this and I was sent to the psych ward at a better hospital. MY husband tried to bring me things and even visit me but they wouldn’t let him in. He said he felt like I was in Quantnamo and he went down to the cafeteria and stayed for hours to feel he was at least near me (he cried) and I called him when I was allowed on a pay phone and let him know I was okay, was playing UNO with some other patients and doing fine. I had gotten the med out of my system in ICU and the next day the psychiatires came in and released me.

    All the time I had to live with no cover on my organs besides a tansparent skin graft that showed all movement and blood vessels which often broke out and bleed profusely…years of this – and I was in big pain. I was in pain units and from 2005 to 2012 I was the victim (as well as all other patients with problems that won’t end ) of the DEA and their Rx hit list. I am allergic to everything except methadone. So, it was all I could take and since that became the most popular hit – I was punted out of the clinic with some false claim like I missed appointments. If I did – I wouldn’t have gotten my Rx so it happened three times until at the last one, they cut me off cold. I went into a severe withdrawal w/o care. It was do bad, I truly wanted to die. I was already told I was terminal finally and I coudln’t understand why I had to suffer like this. I tried to hang myself on my bedpost with my oxygen tubing – it was too stretchy – I began to hallucinate and thought I had no water and nobody had been to check on me for days and started screaming like in horror movies. My son – who watched Train Spotting – already knew what was going to happen to me (I’m not black – I’m a suburban, well educated attractive woman in a traditional home and family) so it didn’t matter. I lost 40 pounds in two weeks from the shock to my body. The morning I believed nobody had been here for so long to help me I was taken to the ER and they asked me to just go to the psych area for evaluation to make sure I was okay. Well, these idiots took my oxygen away (I am dependent upon in since my lungs descended into my abdomen when my abdominal organs exited into the pouch my skin graft became – like a ballon, and rested on my thighs! So, yes I needed certain things. I was so dehyrated and should have been on an IV. Also a person is very likely to have a heart attack in such a drastic withdrawal. I was in a wheel chair at the desk where I had been left sitting in the hallway. I was asking the nurse for 02 and some kind of fluids. I was ignore of course – but the kinda crazy woman at the desk wanting to call her boyfriend obessively was being treated reasonably. I was getting sicker and sicker and dizzy in a cold sweat. I tried to get up and my worst nightmare was falling on my “pouch” since my liver was there, and a kidney had been floating and pulled into the mix – so I fell on the floor – splatting on this unprotected organ torso and my face. I have high cheekbones and a strong forehead so I landed on my cheek and forehead (thank goodness) and my lips were all slobbery and drooling on the floor. This psychiatrist was behind me and the nurses were telling me to “GET UP!” GET UP!” They were also hitting me on the back which pressed my organs harder on the floor – I told them to quit hitting me and I was trying to get up! I was unable to get up from bed most of the time w/o help because my rectis muscle (the one you sit up with ) was rotted away. I had tricks and aids but from the floor – wow! That was a big one. So I asked them to bring me a chair I could grip on to and try to get up. I was also twisted in the wheelchair leg rests and they left my feet trapped! I reached for the wooden chair legs to start my hoist and the bitches whipped it away saying I was going to knock it over! Is this even believable? So, I explained they had to hold it tightly and I would try to get up. The doctor is saying- leave her on the floor. She’ll get up when she’s finished with her tantrum. OMG!!! I was telling him off while I kept trying to get up. I did manage to finally pull up by the legs, to the seat – and then lay my chest on it and push my toes on the floor so I could kind of use my yoga experience to rise. I spent one night there and I don’t know how but I left – and I promised myself I would never go to a hospital in KY again. I started going to one in Cincy and felt better about it. I have so many tales of hospital horrors – I just wanted you to know – it isn’t just aimed at black people. They aren’t trying to get just black people on drugs – and I’m surprised you were given the decency of any sort of pain intervention. They usually don’t even do that! So, that is some perspective for you – I was seen earlier as “white trash” (this is a common phrase in these parts) and as a solid middle classed married woman – professional people – there were still plenty of horrors and humiliations. Being a woman – we know when it’s just about that – I’m not black os you know when it’s about that. But – I think your experience has led you to feel it the way I felt it as a white woman in a very racist neighborhood where I did work and had cause to spend much time in the neighborhood in cars, at stores, etc. There were plenty of people who were looking to hit me wiht a racist slam. But, there were also people who were inclusive and accepting. I felt stressed every single day though- especially while driving. I mean it was like roller derby where only temporary tags existed on all neighborhood cars – and no driving training. It was bas Shelby!! And I was stressed and angry about this so much I feared I was taking a racist vent myself. I kept trying to put my friends (black) in this place and would I feel the same towards this behavior – and NO because they wouldn’t do it! So I realized it was a cultural thing in that part of town that was well rooted w/o apology. I kept it at that – and refered to this as these Avondale drivers are INSANE!! Sweeping generalizations are what has caused so much suffering and when we do it too – we have to remind ourselves of how to separate it into the small enclave of this area and it’s customs or habits opposed to all inclusive stereo types. Even doctors !! haha! I have had some good ones!! The bad ones are SO bad it’s hard to remind myself there are the good ones! Good luck Shelby I hope to hear of your new move and your new job or whatever you do to maintain your life!! Thanks for reading my epic and you don’t need to post it – I’m writing to you and hope you are feeling better. I care – I feel it – and I’ll try to send you some love to cut the bad a bit.

    Like

    Reply

Leave a comment