Suzanne was falsely arrested this past week but released (it’s her story to tell but I nearly died of fright as she was recounting it AND FUCK THE POLICE MOST SPECIFICALLY THE RCMP) and one of her ex boyfriends passed away living rough (grandson Alex’s dad told her, otherwise she wouldn’t know, and they’re going to the memorial tomorrow) and I’ve never felt my privilege so hard. I want nothing but good for her and life is not providing it.
At least the fucking cops didn’t confiscate the gummies I gave her because they were excise stamped.
Tiny bit of writing last night, still balking at the convo. Maybe I should just write something bad and get it out of the way.