So where am I today?

I think I'm still on the island, in a house, in a room, at a desk. I think the ceiling still has peeling paint and that the van outside is hardly ever driven; today the Prophet was talking about a bigger, more beautiful house, in a more beautiful neighborhood... and I didn't care. I mean, I cared a little, but not much. Hardly at all, in fact. My standards have plummeted over the past few years. I just don't care anymore. I don't care about the homeboys, the peeling paint, the decaying siding, the broken windows. It seems wholly irrelevant, completely and amazingly.

So, former boyfriend probably will not come to visit me next week. It was going to be a secret from the Prophet, so it's just as well. Secrets wear away at me. Nothing illicit was being planned, other than his being here, in the same house, at night, sleeping down the hall from each other. But still, you never know... anything can happen, especially in this day and age. Not that I was planning or even remotely desiring anything to happen. In fact, I was dreading the visit in general, so I'm happy he won't be here. But the reason he won't be here is worse, my mother will be visiting. She plans her visits so that the Prophet won't be here; this gives her license to abuse and belittle me, which she only does when there are no other adults present.

I figure it was God's will for life to be this way. What can I do other than accept and try my best to be a decent human being?

Now for an update on the explosion yesterday. This, from the local paper:

The plating company's owner was identified by witnesses as Marty Borruso. Attempts to reach him last night were unsuccessful.

Owners of nearby businesses, meanwhile, said they had been wary of the plating company's safety practices and the kinds of chemicals stored there.

"He was like a mad scientist," said John Mitropoulos, owner of nearby Apollo International Corp. "He was always experimenting with stuff."

Jim Crupi, owner of Fix-A-Dent, said that he might be out of business for several weeks because of the damage.

"We kept telling him, 'One day you're going to blow the block up,'" said Crupi. "He'd say, 'This stuff isn't flammable. What are you worried about?'"