Tuesday, 6 February 2018
Saturday, 9 November 2013
Friday, 8 April 2011
can't sleep because i remember too much
August 7th, 1985 I stepped out into the street on a green light at Frederick Street in Kitchener. A United Taxi cab sped out of the distance running into me, throwing me onto the hood of his car. License plate number RKB413.
I recall looking into the face of the driver through his windshield while peeling myself off the hood of the car.
He didn't stop. He was turning on a red light.
I had a sore bruised hip but lucky to be alive and walked across the street into the police station. I told the man at the counter I had just been run into by a taxi cab & that I had the license plate number. He tiredly asked me ,
'So what do you want us to do about it?' I asked what should I do? He said I could take it to small claims. He didn't offer to file a report on it.
I left carrying on downtown. I didn't call anyone as I never had close connections with family and was not in custom of calling people when bad things happened to me.
Taking the policeman's advice I further pursued it in small claims which cost me time, money, embarrassment, humiliation - wasted my time.
Why didn't he make a serious report of a girl being hit by a car? Why wouldn't they go to talk to him immediately after I reported it?
What kind of a town is that?
Kitchener is a strange cold place.
I went to the hospital to check out injury but don't recall what tests they did if any. They may have looked at it and it wouldn't have shown any serious outside markings. I think they were more concerned with getting money from my OHIP number than anything real.
I recall the lawyer asking me what I was wearing that day. Why? What bearing does that have on anything? Stupid men.
He took money from me, which I paid, for referring me to small claims. Idiot. I'm more an idiot for paying him.
Anyway, so I couldn't sleep thinking of the injustice, lack of justice and how I was played around with by everyone in authority that a citizen would expect to receive justice from.
No justice ever for people like me.
Bad things happen to me all the time. People in authority make fun of me all the time.
Why should I respect authority?
I recall looking into the face of the driver through his windshield while peeling myself off the hood of the car.
He didn't stop. He was turning on a red light.
I had a sore bruised hip but lucky to be alive and walked across the street into the police station. I told the man at the counter I had just been run into by a taxi cab & that I had the license plate number. He tiredly asked me ,
'So what do you want us to do about it?' I asked what should I do? He said I could take it to small claims. He didn't offer to file a report on it.
I left carrying on downtown. I didn't call anyone as I never had close connections with family and was not in custom of calling people when bad things happened to me.
Taking the policeman's advice I further pursued it in small claims which cost me time, money, embarrassment, humiliation - wasted my time.
Why didn't he make a serious report of a girl being hit by a car? Why wouldn't they go to talk to him immediately after I reported it?
What kind of a town is that?
Kitchener is a strange cold place.
I went to the hospital to check out injury but don't recall what tests they did if any. They may have looked at it and it wouldn't have shown any serious outside markings. I think they were more concerned with getting money from my OHIP number than anything real.
I recall the lawyer asking me what I was wearing that day. Why? What bearing does that have on anything? Stupid men.
He took money from me, which I paid, for referring me to small claims. Idiot. I'm more an idiot for paying him.
Anyway, so I couldn't sleep thinking of the injustice, lack of justice and how I was played around with by everyone in authority that a citizen would expect to receive justice from.
No justice ever for people like me.
Bad things happen to me all the time. People in authority make fun of me all the time.
Why should I respect authority?
Saturday, 26 February 2011
the beginning
this may take awhile. a little everyday. looking way back to the dark days of youth where it all began. have to look at my notes from what i've heard from mother.
very tired. not now.
very tired. not now.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)