Poison

Maybe I misinterpreted the email that I received. I think I started this blog before that Google+ thing, which seems to bear the brunt of the gist of the email. That said, I don't think that was a valid sentence. April will tell me what that brunt means.

My neighbour is doing laundry. We share a laundry room. My apartment sits right above that room. She uses so much laundry detergent that it's odour seeps into my apartment. The smell fills my nostrils and my lungs fill with liquid that makes it hard to get oxygen. Ain't that a bitch. Normally, I would go outside for air, but I was out earlier and it's below freezing, so I won't go out again. I will grin and bear it. Headache and all.

I find this reaction my body has to certain chemicals as a reaction to poison. Like a canary, I think I need to scream to the world that these chemicals are bad for all mankind. People seem to accept that cancer is normal. I would disagree. I know populations are booming, information is rampant, but I don't think so many little children should be consumed by cancer. I don't think so many young mother's who haven't even had children yet, should be getting breast cancer. This is not normal. I will not ever accept that this is normal.

Back before all this started, before I got the diagnosis that brought me here to blogdom, I had known a woman who believed that P&G was a company owned by the devil. She said it's symbol of horns was her proof. I thought her a bit possessed, and was quietly amused by her ramblings. Then they invented Febreez and I'm not so sure she was off the mark. I developed an immediate reaction to this product, similar to my neighbour's laundry detergent, before I knew it was a P&G product. I am affected by many other products in this same way. Those cute little leaf looking air freshener's that dangle from people's car rear view mirrors, Lemon Pledge and Murphy's Oil, were some of the first one's I noticed. Now, I can add scented hand creams and face creams to the mix.

I scream. I will keep screaming.