Tales From The Shelter – 18
It’s so frickin’ hot I’m dying, fer sure. 30 degrees doesn’t sit well with me and I’m not interested in going outside today, I don’t know if it’s the heat or my mild agoraphobia acting up (ahhhhh – people!!!!) or both. The smoking deck is 3.4 windowed in so it’s double hot out there and I’m a chimney so merely persevere and have minimal movement. Talk abut a slave to my addiction.
The Captain ordered butt boxes put on all smoking decks and ashtrays removed. Our side tables were also removed but no explaination given. Hmm, my, how spiritual and what good landlords. I found my ashtrays in the garbage – such respect for personal property! It all speaks of their take on spirituality being a sham…they say prayers before meetings so think this makes for spirituality in the workplace. Well isn’t that cute, they gather amongst themselves and probably pray for our dear , lost souls, then kind of twitch when we’re not acting like lambs. I’d like to shove wool up their butts sometimes.
How does an institution to house people, that is religious , address spirituality? The first components of such are purpose and intent. This is obviously not being thought about as one simple little memo explaining WHY things are being done would go a thousand miles along everyone’s personal journey (the phrase used most often here for people to make excuses for their behavior). Next comes working with kindness, compassion, forgiveness, understanding and knowlegde. Hmm, looks like they missed the boat on this too.
The consequences of their actions create the following for us: confusion, hurt feelings, oppression, anger, and I’m sure a few more feelings. Speculation then comes in and suspicion is a natural route.
All we can figure is that these are fire marshall regulations , and if so, we could have been told that. BUT WAIT! A mystery woman appeared! Yes, a woman on our floor who says she’s here just for a few days while travelling through. Turns out she’s a retired chaplaine. Ah hah! Brass! They were wanting things to look tickety boo for brass and cut down on the smoke deck socialization….illusion!
So why the fuck don’t they just say so? We’d go along with things. But no, no, no, there has to be a shroud of secrecy, you know, us lambs wouldn’t quite understand and all that.
Tonight I’ll walk The Hastings Bazarre, where all the stolen goods are boosted, to see if the crackheads are selling yet more stuff taken out of my van. Despite doors being left open, another window was broken and they finally discovered a secret hiding place I had for a few things. The energy along there should match the sordid heat.