I'm writing to you, directly, because this has been on my mind for a long time. I'm fucking miserable. and have been for a long time. I wanna move to the St. James because it was designed by an architect in a wheelchair, so EVERYTHING takes that into consideration. It also has a pool with a wheelchair lift in it. The only residential one in the area, outside of a rehab setting. I need to do some cardio; despite 2 trainers, I get and have gotten no or minimal cardio for over a decade, & the St. James was designed by an architect in a wheelchair so EVERYTHING takes that into consideration. The interior of the units too. I have made my peace, quite happily, with living in Philadelphia, even to the point of buying a funeral plot from my Quaker Meeting. I need to get over my reticence of talking to Peter. It is all of my own fabrication. I hope to buy Giovanni's Room, too; because I could get for a song and because, it is a recognized national landmark who should not be allowed to die. I would try and get a Pew Fellowship to help defray the costs of making it fully accessible. Since reading is increasingly a digital medium. bookstores have to do more in the production of, not just solely the sale, of books. I would like to publish, on-line, an anthology of queer, Philly writers. Turn G.R. INTO A vital source for the proaction and consumption of queer literature. Gil, this is what I do. Or can do, if the trust allows me. This would be a HUGE help to me, in terms of self-esteem and life purpose too. I'm sure you have questions; fire away.
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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