Higher stakes. The Harassment Becomes an Attack

Over the last few days a government organization called NCAT or NSW Civil and Administrative Tribunal sent me a letter about a Notice of Conciliation and Hearing. Family and Community Services feel their sniping over the last three years have borne enough fruit for them to go on the attack.

The order is supposed to be about a conciliation hearing between myself and the Family and Community Services but their demands dont read like a good outcome is possible.

Orders sought:
Section 123-An order for payment of an occupation fee
Section 92-A termination order where the tenant or occupant has threatened, abused, intimidated or harassed the landlord, the landlord’s agent, an employee or contractor.
Section 187-A termination order or an order for the possession of premises

What strikes me about the document is the information about the alleged offense. The contractor must have known he was under the eye of a camera. There are not just the cameras on the eaves but others. The contractors have been in the apartment under the barrage of the cameras in there and now we see why they exist.

Perjury is a crime. When it is purposeful attempt to influence the course of justice it is a crime which may cause the contractor to face unemployment and criminal charges. It will affect his life. I often wonder when I hear of people perjuring themselves if they have spoken to their life partner about the possibility of a chilling decline in their fortunes and if the partner signed up for the ride.

Over the last few days legal aid lawyers asked me to visit a community center on the far fringes of the Central Coast at Woy Woy to see one of their number so a carer under NDIS pay and I drove the 27km and spoke for five minutes to a legal aid staffer who handed me a form and wrote a single line of text for me. Without carers there was no chance I could have made the trip. I was barely well enough this morning to get in and out of the vehicle with the help of a medically trained male staffer. I have to write up what happened so I know what to do when the conciliation hearing comes up. The application for a lawyer will go in a few days when the paperwork is in hand. After what they have been doing to me for the last few years and especially these months I think it is time to go face to face with these evil bastards

Several of the neighbors who resent my desire not to be accosted by drunken fools hanging from nearby patios have heckled me while one or two of the quiet ones have drawn me aside when we were out of sight and been very kind and supportive. I needed that now. So much of my life is destroyed, my work in ruins, my ability to work in ruins and coming back to this apartment is like choosing to become diseased. The kind and gentle tenants seem to suffer as badly as I do. This is a feral prison and as your jobs are sucked up by cheaper overseas workers or automated this is one of the certainties you face. Forget that talk of a dignified retreat into a common wage. You are dreaming if you think those who end up “having” will give up their aristocracy of that so the serfs who didn’t manage to stay employed can live with dignity. Many of you will be driven to sad and lonely deaths such as I have seen here and look to join.

Arriving back at the apartment by about 11:30am the choices were either sleep in this poisonous place or get out and try to do something. So the mobility scooter and I went out for a quick look at some local graffiti I have wanted to photograph but forgotten. I was seriously ill by the time I got there and didnt make a real artist’s job of it but there is enough for a short burst and I should go back very soon. It was a sad incident that saw the little football change room and shop close down from a vandals fire but the walls have become home to a little art until they are removed.

I only lasted until 12:30pm and was to ill to avoid returning to the apartment where I slept until now. It is the first sleep in two days or more where I wasn’t smashed by pain and by cramps in my feet and legs and so the first sleep in that time. On the return trip the big warning bell that was my heart chimed painfully warning me that I was over the limit in things it could survive. With any luck, when I have my last few drawings and paintings gathered around me and nowhere left to live it will take me quickly. Probably long before then if the stress and high blood pressure is fair warning.

The graffiti we get around here is getting rarer and is far from high art but I am reassured that there are still people who didn’t wait for, a government or corporation or even community, invitation to express their existence.

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