The Insurance Company

Another issue that directly concerns me about receipts is the question of my said father’s insurance company. He asked me periodically for my receipts. I had absolutely no direct contact with his insurance. But just before he passed away my father mentioned that this insurance agency would manage his financial affairs during his lifetime. But all his financial assets, upon his death, would go to this insurance agency.

Let me tell you what happened when he died. Someone (I do not know who) threw me out, naked, from his house out on the street. A neighbor, being embarrassed, wanted to take me inside his house. But his woman did not appreciate me going inside. After a discussion, they decided to give me shelter in the dining room. If I made a mess, it was cleanable.

So, there was not money after my father’s death. And the furniture and the houses remained intact. As for what happened to the valuables, including the jewelry remains a mystery to this day.

When my parents occupied the house, it was selling for $750,000.00 or thereabouts. However, the mayor of the city said there was no reason to leave everything. tact. What would I do so that it would be? Suffice it to say, I sold the house, and I have no proof of the fact, for $110,000 and I would waive the price if the man who got the house took care, as much as he could, of the messy financial aspect. To sum it up, the money and all the valuables disappeared pell-mell. The estate was in a mess. So much for good intentions.

So, I go back to my receipts. Did my father’s insurance agency claim they were responsible for all the purchases I made in that difficult and dangerous time when I amassed them for my cultural activities? And if they did, did they claim that they were supporters of my activities? How come they did not support my health situation? The only thing I can think of is that an unknown entity used the receipts for their own purposes.

 

Speaking of those receipts

I am not the only person who has been in this kind of situation. I have been in a residence run by an austere religious order. On the non-believer’s side, the staff gave me periodic instructions to avoid contact with the religious community. I have always thought it was not to contaminate them with my non-believer jive. So, I had a while time to observe two communities: the community of artists to which I belonged for a while and a deeply religious group of women. I noted that one had a reputation for being extremely poor and overly frank while the other, the religious community, was very wealthy but had taken a vow of silence. I wrote about this.

Life is fun. I often refer to Aesop’s fable of the Lion and the Mouse. The lion considered the mouse too small to pay back a magnificent lion for his good deed. Time would prove this wrong.

One fine day a group of devotees came to talk about the two communities and the fact specifically about vows of silence. The people who have associated with me have silenced me for years. This is why I write. I have a great fear of dying without having my wishes respected due to the simple fact that I cannot speak anymore.

This group said to me they have a terrible problem in the religious community. They are commonly bound to a vow of silence under bad circumstances. Such was the case of one lady who happened to have been particularly important in the French-Canadian music scene. I do not remember everything exactly except that she did not necessarily join the austere religious community in desirable circumstances. This was quite a terrible thing. The problem was, not only were people forced to take vows for distinct reasons, but they also had the unadmirable problem of the distribution of wealth and important personal items. Horribly to them, their assailants were routinely getting acquisition of all their important possessions. Okay, so force in the clergy is a huge problem. Perhaps an unsurmountable problem. But the vow of silence, which is routine, also does have the undesirable effect of having horrible people get all their stuff instead of the right people, the people they admire and love. After years in seclusion, if they would come out, people sworn to silence would be unable to rectify the situation, and this would be until death.

So, here I am talking about inheritance. My inheritance. Can the issues I am dealing with also be the issues they were working to fix?

For example, those that would be my companions shut me up effectively before I went into the residence run by the austere community. Sometimes community workers marginalized themselves but also by said family members and friends. It has often been the case, before I went anywhere near anything devout, that I have been in the company of people who not only were content but insisted on a one-way conversation. This involved me only listening to a complete monologue. This habit seemed to go from person to person, from social situation to social situation, and has been going on since the late teenage years.

But As I was eating my Saturday lunch, I realized that all the stuff with the Insurance company and the receipt taker that I have been writing about might be just the reasons this injustice is continuing in this austere religious community. They have all this money, and they do not have any possessions. But no one over-talks about what happened to the possessions they had before. Or what happens to the few possessions they cherish. Except one time, they came to me in a group to talk about it. Again, imagine significant others in your world horribly assailed you and successfully so, for a lifetime. (I feel the same.) But at the same time, imagine how it feels to have your special stuff, even your fortune, go to perfectly terrible people to you, simply because people that associated with you dictated that you must listen to their monologue in silence. It is my experience that a group of people condemning someone to speechlessness is not an issue at all. It is time.

Incidentally, one of the injured parties used to be a famous French-Canadian vocalist and composer. Immensely popular as well. She came out, at my suggestion, years ago to tape under her old stage name, a comedy routine. In this comedy routine, I told her, and she did it, to mention the people who were dear to her. And she did.

I had the opportunity to listen to her on our film day in the senior’s residence before someone left. I did not understand everything) but I certainly recognized the lady, and I knew what she was doing.

Again, let us leave aside that in the courts it is the men and the fathers of our society that decide the fate of women in terrible times of social turmoil. If it is not to solve the time to solve this problem, then at least we can aim for one thing. Let our possessions, even the authorities that confiscate them, go to the ones we admire and respect, not to people who have hurt us or even strangers who claim stupid things about getting these things with the injured parties’ permission.

 

 

 

My take. International Women's Day March 8 2023

 In honor of nationals international Women's Day our residents aired a film. Among many wise issues it discussed one of the things that hit me had to do with the fact that the more the victim is silent the more the victim is the victim. The victims worst enemy is silence period now this is not always gonna have been and since in the past I have been shrieking in distress and have been punished for making noise I guess when I published this article it will be private. Hence it's best to put it on the dark log.

I'm reaching 65 years old and I have been told that I now qualify for a Canada pension since I lived in Canada over 40 years. This has created a great deal of distress for me. I find it horrible that I have lived my whole life it's such a vile country in which I can only live I'm below the poverty line. I find myself in a great disgrace for that. And I'm surrounded by people who think it's a very high thing not to have money. As a matter of fact they think it's horrible to have money. That's just the tip of the iceberg. I find myself feeling a great despair now. I don't find myself so upset that it seems like that i'm unusual. Everybody seems to be happy to just live poorly. As a matter of fact I find a lot of women who are not just good they're holding because they have nothing at all. So why am I mortified and sick to find that at 65 years old I'm going to get it guaranteed supplement income worthy of someone who doesn't even qualify to live above the poverty line

So I've been doing a fair amount of thinking. And since I'm not to complain a hell of a lot of crying alone and feeling sick about the whole issue. So my memory comes back sometimes. And I'm hitting two workers from the halfway house I lived in for over 20 years. I'm thinking of them again and again. Because I remember them as part of a team when I went for a vacation in the country. This was a team of which they were the workers who came at the beginning to arrange things. And then there was a nurse who I don't remember as clearly. And then there was someone else. The reason I I was put in some sort of apartment hospitality apartment in order to be divested of every single thing I had and to be created as a new family and to be introduced by a man who would claim to be my father and has been for a while or his organization and simply and clearly divest me of every single penny and every single thing I ever had. Oh were they pious oh are they good to fight for me as long as that is what it is.

The man was introduced to me after a great amount of beatings on my head as my new father. Again he would throughout the years with his organization leave me absolutely destitute. Once that was established they would be my family and I would go to meet their house what 1/2 hours there and back to eat supper as a disobedient daughter. The problem with these two women is they surfaced again in the halfway house.

now I remember these two people clearly by face I recognize them clearly. The first primary workers came as a team the two of them in the halfway house again. Not only that the nurse that they started the nurse that came after them appeared in the halfway house for a time as well. I'm very disturbed at this because I have lost so much. Without even knowing it until I've begun to remember them as working first of all unabashedly and without any kind of concern for decency or any kind of ideas of a worker to break me and take my money and identity and give me some horrible man as a new father who would take duly everything which he was gonna do and leave nothing. And then secondly as a greatly moral high polluting pious and righteous people helping the unfortunate on the street until her other nurse came along. OK since I don't remember much what happened at the halfway house except everything kind of went to pieces and I've been in a horrible place for a long time as damned it occurs to me to wonder what I did or what happened that everything would be taken away if it was in the forward house because I did something. Because they arranged that I looked like it when they gave me a new family who took everything.

The thing that's been bothering me a lot about getting my pension because I lived in Canada 40 years is where do they think I lived before all this horrible stuff happened and I moved out of my house to get my university education. Now getting back to the question of silence is the worst enemy of human trafficking, I guess even before the silence is the breaking of her mind so that the victim like myself will not ever say anything about the horror they endure for a lifetime.

So instead of being grateful or happy from living for 40 years in Canada I feel a horror of the place and the horror of the whole situation. The thing that comes back to my mind again is why I am so distressed of my lifelong poverty. I should be OK with it at least if I was raised to harm that fate. Why. new line this is very hard for me too conceptualize so I'm writing this to clear my thoughts dude this has been bothering me for a while. And there's more thoughts about it but right now I'm gonna stop here and I'm going to publish it on the dark log which is a private blog just like this untouched and confused confused until I get back to it.

One other thing that's been going through my mind is why they would only break me as a mature woman of 25 years old and then later on the street in the halfway house. They have had ample freedom with these two attacks and I really don't see why they have to wait till I was so old before they attacked me. Could this breaking of a mind and spirit and social ruining have occurred many times before in my life? Of this for gross material gain gross material gain?