Hey!!! I am moving back to Colorado from Paris! Please help!

Hello. I’m still in a mental hospital. A doctor suggested that I leave France and go back to USA. I was furious at that suggestion, but my only source of income died a couple of weeks ago. I didn’t know because they wouldn’t let me use my phone. I was really hoping that there would be a message from her when I finally was able to use my phone, but there is nothing. Her god son came nyc to be with here when she was dying. I assume that her close friend will re-home sweet little Nadja with someone nice. I never would have gone to the hospital if she hadn’t suggested it and even though it’s been horrible, I hope that they will find a drug cocktail that hits the spot and that I can bring it back to USA with me.

Life in France has always been really really hard for me because my French sucks. It just never improved and I’m illegal, which also sucks, and they may never let me come back, which is kind of a bummer, but I’ll live. I want to stay alive. Please donate a euro or two. I’m only bringing my clothes and my artwork back with me. The rest of it will be given away to whomever wants it. So as soon as I have a move out date, I’ll let you know and you or your friends in Paris can come get my cool expensive furniture.

I am currently confined in solitude. I begged for my notebook and pen and they refused. I’m going to keep working on them. They give me one hour a day with my phone. Apparently I can eventually get back my earned income with a note from the doctor(s) but I need to find a home. A home. Enough of this drama. I got broken ribs and five sutures on my scalp from another fall. I am so doped up. This kind of thing is only fun in gorgeous surroundings with jolly friends. I’m in a filthy room with…. It just gruesome. Meant to be dehumanising. If you give me money today I will sleep on the floor if you ever come to Paris. You can sleep in the silk and feathers pleasure pit. 30 momme silk! It really is the good stuff.

Hello Dear Ones,

As many of you know, I was torn from my bed and home by the cops here in Paris last Thursday, which was obviously pretty upsetting. By Thursday afternoon I was in pale blue polyester jammies in a mental hospital. It’s way nicer than jail. Anyhoo, my boss says that when I get out, I still have a job, but I can’t stay with her. It’s terribly impractical. I’m trying to find a woman’s shelter over the next three days, and I might have to find a hotel or an Airbnb. I am praying that I find someplace inexpensive, cheap and with a quick route to the 7e arrondissement. In the hospital I’m not earning any money and the mover, who I have used before because he really is professional, says that it will cost 666€ all told to schlep my stuff to a storage place. Can you spare a few bucks for your old pal Tracey? I may be insane but I’m still a sweetie-pie. You don’t want me to be on the street, do you? That would SUCK. Cops are meaner than ever nowadays. I know times are tough for everyone but if you can, chip in a buck or two, and maybe share this with your most sympathetic friends, I would be forever grateful.