1.26.06
4:12 PM
A pall has been cast over any and all happiness that I would normally feel this week. Also, I have become paranoid that the recent utter silence from the Downstairs Cunts is somehow tied into this.
My mind is working against itself.
Mark Scharfman has ruined my Birthday.
That motherfucker.
If this doesn’t stop soon, I will develop ulcers.
Tomorrow, I plan to wake up at 8 or so to be one of the “first served” by the pro se attorney’s office at the Housing Department.
I hope for good news, but I fear the worst. I always fear the worst…on top, but underneath everything, underneath me telling myself “expect the worst expect the worst expect the worst expect the worst”, the very bottom of me, my heart of hearts, is thinking “but it won’t be the worst, it just won’t.” Fucking brain. I’m a god damned optimist. Fuck.
I just want to stay where I am until I am ready to move on. I don’t want this outside influence in the form of a greasy slumlord.
This occurrence has darkened my world.
I want vengeance.
I promise myself (and everyone I know in this city) that if I am forced to leave…I will make Mark Scharfman a sad, sad man. I will also include the Downstairs Cunts and their ugly baby in that sadness. The moment a lawyer tells me that neither my credit, nor my father’s (my guarantor) will be affected by simply giving Scharfman the finger, I will rain down the Most Righteous Wrath of the Paulitoshpere on this apartment. You think repainting Chris’ bedroom is going to be a pain? How about as many coats of black latex paint that I can afford sloshed all over the place? The thing is Scharfman only cares about the money, so why would he allow me to stay jeer for less than he could get with new tenants? He wouldn’t; he doesn’t think that way. So I have to hit him where he’ll notice: his bankroll. If the dick is inflexible about the rent increase, then we will destroy his apartment. Any of you wondered just how thin my floors are? One way to find out. Anyone wondered what a refrigerator falling four stories into an alley sounds like? I have. You ever been curious what would happen if someone overflowed the toilet, bathtub AND sink? I have. I swear to everything that matters: if I am forced to leave this place against my will, Mark Scharfman will remember me as a financial loss. A taller-than-is-allowed financial loss.
Bring it the fuck on, you slimy villain. Understand what happens when I have nothing to lose and no strings attached.

I just found these:
http://citylimits.org/content/articles/weeklyView.cfm?articlenumber=108
http://nypress.com/17/6/news&columns/property.cfm