a wimp in style

when one gets afflicted with excruciating pain, the person not only endures daily physical sufferings but the image of frailty and weakness. i admit my arthritis is a hindrance to a lot of things, like working in a day job that brings nothing but annoyances from mean bitches (goodness, how many more weeks have i got left in the walls of abu ghraib?). others with the same turmoil comprehends my ordeal but a version of cruella de ville, who castigates like a lilian bettencourt with all that billions or angela merkel with all that power, views my restrictions and even my demeanor with utter derision. i know it's only three rooms. but there are bigger oceans.

as i try to scale some heights or at least do some writing, this job is just the only way not to float and sink in poverty, the constant anguish is harder than one can imagine. is it bad to be coy and diffident? i need to ask more questions. i'm in definite awareness of all my drawbacks.

is it better to be contemptuous and condescending? this is a word of mouth, world. i may not have friends from the high places but i have friends. i don't mind losing one more acquaintance. there are tons of likeable people. the dark side never wins over the jedi knights.

so what if i can't function without pain? i've managed the last five years, or is it six? i can no longer recall. i have to remind myself always to give the zafra stare to the mean girls and ask them to get laid with their very own christian bales (photos from wikipedia.org).