Because of the conglomerate's campaign of lewd, misogynist character defamation and its intrusions into my privacy, I haven't touched another person in a way that could be construed as other than platonic since 2010.
I had a date in 2010.
I had a date in 2009.
I was secretly followed and filmed for both of them and the conglomerate has viciously bullied me about them ever since.
The conglomerate doesn't think that I'm bullied. The conglomerate thinks that I can't take a joke.
I was a virgin until I was 27 and haven't had sex since I was 29. I have mentioned this before. It doesn't matter how many times I say it. It doesn't matter how many "women's movements" there are. It doesn't matter how many years I choose to be homeless rather than to be a celebrity prostitute. I live without my rights.
I've been awake since around 2:00 this morning. Someone in one of the 7 beds in my sleeping cubicle at the homeless shelter has a bad cough. She wasn't harassing me. She is an alcoholic who smokes. I'm sure that she doesn't think about stopping either habit. Like many homeless people, she probably has no hope that her life could improve and she doesn't care if she dies.
Although a different person sleeps in the lower bunk of my bunk bed every night, this wasn't the first night when I have hoped that the smell enveloping the entire bed is from flatulence and not incontinence.
I gave up on sleeping at around 3:00 a.m. I will spend the rest of today trying to function while having had about 4 hours of sleep. This is not out of the ordinary for homeless people, nor is it a record of sleep deprivation for me while homeless; last week, there was a night when I slept for about an hour and a half.
I have almost entirely stopped using my smartphone. So many people have hacked it for so many years that I don't think I can treat it as if it is an electronic tool that supports my life. It is more of a combination tracking device/gaping, unhealable psychological wound. I leave it in my locker at the homeless shelter most of the time.