So have had a few awful interactions with police, mainly due to the policies they choose to or are forced to follow.
Mental health checks should not end with 3 officers kneeling on the citizen, full stop. Three officers with their guns and tasers and bullet-proof vests ended up kneeling on my back, legs, and pinning my arms, and not in a fun, roll around kinda way. Split lip, lack of sensation in my hands, and carried out via stretcher with my chest exposed and in handcuffs.
And why, you ask, thinking I must be unreasonable or drunk or on some of the harder stuff. It was because I disagreed with the polices’ choice of evicting a public park via officers kneeling on protestors faces, on the concrete. Does it make sense to make a public space, which is the last space for those without stable housing to mark out a place of their own, empty for the comfort of those with multiple homes and sturdy salaries the kings of the castle. (exceeding sarcastic tone). Maybe if you don’t want homeless people, make it possible to find housing, instead of expecting teleportation of more martyrs for your bs parade.
So I put up a sign or two, one of which may have included a drawing of the pope being serviced by their minions (related? In some capacity). I was simultaneously angry that the building I was living in registered it as a convent, meaning I couldn’t fill out the census or vote. But whatever. Yeah, that’s above board. They also suppressed the water quality complaints I’ve made, and I’m pretty sure my neighbour is friends with my siblings/family, possibly crisis actors or gangstalkers? (Bear with me, I have evidence of they don’t steal it.
After being almost crushed, I was taken to the hospital where I had previously been belittled and spoken around, with the doctors refusing to speak to me and instead speaking to my partner, as though it was a vet visit.
This time they asked if my ex was my emergency contact (they weren’t) yet the records were still listing them as next of kin (They’re definitely not). My parents showed up and stole my cats, throwing their hands up in the air because they’re NON-CONFRONTATIONAL and EMBARRASSED about anything except for ass-kissing the systems of oppression (ie. Slavery and inherited generational trauma for first Nations and the working class). They didn’t say that, they just Stepford smiled in their patronizing, gaslit way. Maybe it’s the fumes…
So I was held without patient advocacy, without my phone for several days, shifted from room to room when sedated without consent (who knows what happened when I was knocked out). Eventually speaking to doctors who kept switching their names (I called them on it and it was passively acknowledged but hey this is a nightmare experience so can only call it out so much without fear of being euthanized apparently). I’d also like to note the paperwork was under the femme doctor’s name, while the masculine doctor was the Dingus who made no sense yet had an ego that didn’t fit the room.
During this time I was constantly misgendered, kept without clean clothing, kept without a pillow, woken up about every hour with a flashlight to the face. I was kept from my meds and accessibility devices, and this went on for 8 days. I also did not have shoes this whole time. And it was a pandemic.
Maybe this is the umbrella of protection being pissed off about being called out, or some freemasons, or the Illuminati, or maybe Kellogg’s (seriously, look up their founder, they have a nasty history) or who knows what else could be at play here. All I know is these systems are messed up. The town I come from had a mayor who was also the leader of the youth division of a conversion-abuse heavy church, amongst at least 3 other competing cults.
From these interactions, I’ve had trouble leaving the house, and finding a job, and trusting just about anyone when there’s this veiled language with attempted subtle ego battles (“I’m going to let you know who’s boss without being boss and even if I was boss I wouldn’t know what to do so I’d just exploit you for labour while promising exposure that never comes, because it’s really a Ponzi scheme; Care for a free referral to my newest affiliate program?”) Partnered with the aforementioned tech insecurity, I don’t know if this message even is getting out (blink twice and pull your ear if you can hear me, or ya know, comment).
Whether it’s connected or not, I am having fears surrounding similarities to Hotel Cecil. Or maybe it’s more Murder Amongst the Mormons, or the slew of condo murders where people are found down the garbage chute and how differently masculine vs feminine individuals have been reported on: a man’s death compared to Pheobe Handsjuk’s mysterious accident or Lisa Hernandez’s mysterious death, or even Justine Gross or Laura Prychodko, or this woman of undetermined age’s close call. I don’t think it’s asking too much for the police to not kill me or for me to be understanding sceptical when they have dismissed tangible proof of abuse and exploit. I’m not going to be a headline or an unsolved mystery, nor just disappeared so LEAVE THE BREADCRUMBS YALL. Thanks for coming to my TED talk.
This led to having trouble paying for rent, which let to an evictions hearing in February, which (good surprisingly) led to an order of the landlord repaying last month’s rent plus interest, no mention of having to move, and generally not an end of world scenario. Fast forward again to may and the sheriff evicted me with 4+ other officers, despite the order from the LTB.
I’m now without a home and crashing at an acquaintance’s in Riverside, Toronto. My landlord is holding my life’s possessions hostage, or they’ve already been disposed of but I don’t know because he’s leaving me on read. Maybe that’s a perk of being an editor at the Globe and Mail?
It feels like a burden, because I’m as neurotic as ever plus some, and the act of saying that feels like it’s more burdensome so FULL STOP. But what’s the answer when you can’t get a job without a place and you can’t get a place without a job and the police have been trying to kill you since at LEAST 2019 for reporting your ex for drugging you and asking you your thoughts on trafficking someone for domestic labour, and your parents are likely in on i, possibly as far as selling you to settle a blood debt? Your siblings message with more information than they should have, threatening you and trying to “put you in your place” all because what, you want to help protect people who have been fucked around by the system the whole time and they can’t see that because of individual personal biases? Or they just want to be the lead slavers? Who knows when it’s bs out of their mouths. I LOVE YOU.
SO YEAH, I guess that’s what up, and at least writing it here on my website means that if they kill me there are breadcrumbs. But they still wonder why I’m not proud to be Canadian, when I have emailed Marci Ien, Jagmeet Singh, Justin Trudeau, amongst many other parliamentarians here in The Canada, for them to prefer to just… Not… Do … Anything. Or to watch with popcorn maybe, feeling smug until the inevitable, terrifying sequel to the purge or something. There’s a lot of film and literature that’s gone over what has and can happen, and as a nonviolent protestor I’m terrified of the future when many are seeking to lose their empathy.
I don’t want handouts, I want to have the medical supports I need so I can work and have my own place and eventually find friends and family that aren’t psycho Stepford brats, you know the ones who want THEIR Ponzi scheme to be the one scheme to rule them all.
But man, basic income is the only logical solution. Why further abuse the disabled folks, is it a PR stunt?
No one asked to be born and we are all non-consensually trapped in this bitter capitalistic hellscape. And you may hear that and think “BUT MY STONKS! MY CORPORATION!!” Okay; I still want to shop and buy shit, but not when it’s your half-baked idea that’s going to cause more harm than good, and not when it’s at the expense of the planet or the people. YOU’RE BEING UNREASONABLE so stop to think about how it’s always someone being scammed, and just fucking stop.
Why is THIS the hill they chose to attack me on? What the fuck is wrong with society? Has the government forgotten what their job is and who pays the taxes? Or has it been long enough that they see the country as a personal investment from their inherented privilege again, owned by investment broker old boys as a slavery town? Inquiring minds want to know…
So, how’s your day? (Please help me stay alive so I can help you with whatever; art or something.)
PIXLEY.DESIGN 