handcuffs
Last Tuesday (God, has it been a week already? fuck.), a social worker told me I wasn't suffering enough for his organization to help me. He handed me fliers from organizations offering sliding-scale fees, wished me luck, and showed me the door.
Fine.
OK.
Whatever, man.
I'll sit here in my emotional handcuffs until I find someone who'll listen for the right price. Maybe then I'll be heard. All I want, really, is someone to HEAR me when I speak (for fuck's sake, he sure as hell didn't listen).
Why should I have to pay for that?
Why should anyone?