I've been really depressed, day after day, for the past 11 years. It's not being in a wheelchair; I'm pretty accepting of that. It's the way people treat me now. They expect me to be a kind of polite, obscenely grateful, mindless guy. Which I am at heart,but I'm beginning to feel, just a lot tired ôf the status quo.
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Arguing for my independence with my trust lords has gotten really old, really fast. See, I’m like a poor man’s Brittany Spears: all my money is in a special needs trust, dispensed as need be by my Trustees: Gil Roth and Peter Johnson. Gil, I’ve been friends with since St. John’s. Peter does this for a living, & cuts me a world of always legal and ethical slack. More tomorrow. Nighty-night.
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