VIVIAN LORTIE:

Added 2.Dec.12 18.41 and wondering why… wondering if I’ll be “here” for this month. Not so much because of the bunk-belief that 21Dec12 will be “The Final Day” for Creation. Just wondering WHAT will be attacking me next and will I survive! We… shall… see.

It’s 2.21, first day of January in the year 2013. Bloody FUK! 2013! 2012 wasn’t bad enough and now, it’s 2013! I can’t really say why, and I can’t put a finger on it, can’t really narrow it down, but by God, there’s something terribly oppressively depressing about this year. The number. The look of the number. The combination of digits. The Numerological value: 6. The word Judah, in Hebrew Gematria is: 813 – Perhaps the 8th month of the year 13?
The new year — a 6 Universal Year!
While the 6 is considered the most harmonious of all single-digit numbers, it is not without its flaws and upsets. The most important influence of the 6 is its loving and caring nature. Properly nicknamed the motherhood number, it is all about sacrificing, caring, healing, protecting and teaching others. No family or community can function without the power of the 6 to keep them together and safe. She is the glue that keeps a family or community together.
There are, however, times when the 6 becomes too involved in the lives of those dear to her, to the point that she becomes intrusive and meddling. Other times, she takes her sacrificing nature too far and becomes a doormat to be abused and trampled on. Nonetheless, she is genuinely appreciated and adored in return. For this reason, the 6 is considered the only number harmonious with all other numbers. Creating an environment of peace and harmony is always her strongest impulse. In addition, she loves to teach and guide others, especially the young, old and less fortunate.
The 6 is full of sympathy, and her sense of justice is well developed — when she perceives injustice, she will sacrifice all her time and effort to set things straight. She almost always favors the underdog, and would never purposely hurt anyone, especially those she considers less fortunate. She has a strong sense of responsibility and can be counted on to do her fair share of the work. She can be demanding, but she is also able and willing to stay in the background when needed, working and caring without any expectation of reward.
The 6 is idealistic, trusting and easy to take advantage of … which can produce devastating results. She carries her heart on her sleeve and expects the same from others. The role of counselor and advisor comes naturally to her, and many will come to her to cry on her shoulder or to seek her down-to-earth wisdom.
The 6 carries herself well and moves gracefully, yet is warm, funny and jovial. When the 6 is on a career path, she generally goes a long way due, in part, to her sense of duty and responsibility — but also because she is genuinely respected and well-liked. You will find many 6s in careers such as teaching, healing, counseling, construction, the legal field and law enforcement, especially prison guards.
On the negative side, the 6 can be jealous and small-minded, tending to be more focused on the little details while ignoring the bigger pictures … usually to her own detriment. She can be a bad judge of character, and has been known to sacrifice herself to a cause or a person even while everyone around her tries to convince her that this cause or person is not worth it.
The 6 is usually rather conventional and must learn to use her own mind instead of simply leaning on the opinions of those close to her. The 6 can also be smug and arrogant, especially toward authority figures or institutions. She can be annoyingly self-righteous and an intolerant religious zealot. The 6 sometimes suffers from anxiety and insecurity, even phobias. A disproportional number of people with OCD have the 6 prominent in their charts.
The 6, while loving, caring and full of sympathy for others, is self-centered and egotistical at heart. If those at the receiving end of her care do not show the attention she craves, she can turn on them, even hurt them. The Munchhausen syndrome is a disorder typical to the negative 6.
No number is without weaknesses and faults, but the 6 is actually the most harmonious and stable among the nine single digits. Yet, perhaps for that same reason, when the unusual happens and the 6 falls into discord and disharmony, it becomes possibly the most destructive and dangerous of all numbers. Beware of a cynical or angry 6 — she is a merciless wolf in sheep’s clothing.
(*OK then. We’re re-capping Wednesday morning here, at 4.03 so away we go…)
7.00… As it turned out, (*Well, yes it did turn out. But I have no idea this morning, what I was about to say here. I can venture a guess though: More than likely, it was my pleasure to be awake earlier than the alarm that had been set. And the fact that, before Silas woke, I was dressed and out the door to shovel the drive so that he cold get out and on his way this morning. So, I’ll just add that the over-night snow-fall amounted to only about 12cm and I caught it in great time this morning, whilst it was still dry. The whole drive was done in a matter of just over an hour and yes, indeed, as I was finishing, the sun rose and the morning got just warm enough to allow a bit of the drive to start showing.) As I was getting the last bits of snow up, Silas appeared on the back porch, in his jammies. I finished and came into the house to find him at the kitchen sink, starting to wash dishes. In my own selfishness, I told him to just leave them, “It gives me something to do, pre-occupies and distracts me.” (He has no clue that it actually bothers me terribly when he leaves and I find my-self in this house, alone again.) I still didn’t know how long he’d be staying so I asked and he said “I have to do brunch with Mom.” and went to dress. WELL! Imagine that. – 9.45 Silas just left. It “hurts” to be alone again. This morning though, the thought hit me: It’s all about “abandonment issues”, re-living those days of believing I was in a “relationship” and being lied to. I’m certainly not saying that this situation is that kind of “relationship” but just the fact that someone dear to me walks in the door when he seems to find some moments to “spare”, to toss my way, makes the appearance and then, just as suddenly, and with-out even taking the time to appear happy to be in my company, bolts out the door yet again. And, I’m certainly not saying that that’s what Silas does, but, unconsciously, that’s how it seems to me. Stupid beyond description, this. As usual, I asked when he’d be back and, as usual, the reply was “I don’t know. Maybe Friday night. I have Saturday off.” That bothered me as well. The uncertainty of the whole situation. And too, I was hoping that he’d stay long enough to take a drive into Enosburgh today to do some grocery shopping. I need real food in the house and Mac’s is useless when it comes to that. I’d like to get a few things at “Family Dollar” that “Dollar General” doesn’t have. And I truly need a bag of salt for the ice accumulations on the steps out-side. (I’d asked him to text or call me to let me know if Dollar Genl was open as he drove past so I could walk over to get the salt. The day ended… he didn’t. Once again, the little things I ask for of people and they blow me off. This year? There’s to be a conscious effort on working that disappointment out of me. You see? People think me miserable and selfish… but nobody takes the moment’s time to consider “Why”. Oh well. My little fortress gets fortified yet again this year and I become just a little more with-drawn from the world. And oddly, today, now? I actually feel the “caring” about it all dwindling. One day…) – HOW-EVER, this morning, as he prepped to bolt for the door, Silas and I had a deep, albeit brief and Great talk: He appreciates what I do here. Says that he’d been waiting for me to actually contribute my self to the place to make it the place where I live. “We’ll” be here until Sept. at least, says he. Well! THAT alone was the ONE statement I’ve needed t know! All along, as I add a little bit here and there, wash the floors, dust, shovel, maintain, I’ve been doing-so just as a matter of issue, heartlessly, thinking that, at any moment, he’d be storming in the door, hastily packing and tromping out the door. For all this time, each time I’ve seen a U-Haul coming round the corner or heading toward the house, I’ve expected him to be at the wheel. All this time… Truthfully? Hearing that said really doesn’t mean a damned thing. I can’t invest that much trust in anything he says. But it certainly made the world of difference to me to hear him say it. Then he added: “My intention for moving here was to give you a place where you could get the “good life” you deserve, where you could get the rest you weren’t getting, to get some peace of mind and get into the life you wanted. It was funny when you told me that you came here with the same intentions for me. We came here wanting to help the other one get a better life. But right now, I want you to save your income and get a car! I want to see you get a job that you’ll enjoy and not some second-rate job you take just because it’s there. When you leave here, I want you to think of this as your base for your life in Vermont and look to moving into a place you love and NOT leaving here to go back to the shelter.” He added that, in his little chat of yesterday, with Don, he’d told Don that the only reason he can still stay here is because I helped with the oil and maintenance of the house. He told Don that if there’s a problemme with the house, HE’S to be notified and that I’m to be left alone, that I have enough to deal with and that troubles with the house aren’t anything that I should have to be concerned about. He made his bed and as he did so, he continued “I trust Connie more than I trust Don. But every time something isn’t right with the house, I call. When there was water in the cellar, I called. When you fixed the light in the kitchen, I called Don to tell him. I told him that we don’t get enough hot water to take a regular shower. Connie said that that’s not right. I told him that we have a tub up-stairs that doesn’t work and that YOU fixed it. I call him for everything because I want him to know what’s going on here so that nothing can ever be said about you being here or that I did anything to make the place worse than it was.” I mentioned the fact that I tend to smoke in the house, but the fact is, the house doesn’t smell of it. He said “I just worry that Don’ll walk in and catch you.” I lost a bit of my temper and replied “I’ll punch him in the face if he says anything to me about that! I’ll knock him out, call the police and report me for it.” (Silas laughed… “You’ll call the police and report yourself.”) I said “Yes. Because I’m willing to bet that NOBODY has EVER taken this much care of this house as WE have. I know that the reason Don rented this place when he did is because he KNOWS how much it would cost him to maintain the house over the Winter. And he HAS to maintain it because Hillary still lives here. HE’D have to pay the oil and electric bills alone. And now? He’s got somebody in here to take those responsibilities. I also know that it wouldn’t go over very well if I had to march into the court with him and report that he actually wrote into the lease that ‘legal’ tobacco products can not be smoked in the house BUT that ILLEGAL drugs and such are permitted. Silas agreed but looked at me and asked “Where is all this hostility coming from?” Ah… I told him: I’ve a LOT of time round here to think about and see exactly how it is and I don’t like a great deal of how you’re treated by them. He assured me that they won’t be doing that any more and said that I need to attend to the matters I have and not to think about the house and what he can handle. It’s all a lot better now. I hope so. I truly do. – Well, as quickly as he walked in the door last evening, he was out again, in the car and with-out a “Buh-bye”, he was out the drive and down the street. He’s gone to BTV to brunch with his mum. I had only the briefest moment of anxiety attack. Today’s was as sharp as the last, but much quicker that the previous. And in no time, I was into the responsibilities du jour. – 10.24 have received a “Threat” from Storage Post this morning! THIS morning! A Federal holiday! And they’re telling me they’re demanding an additional 100$ to put a lien on the storage! 30 days due and THIS SHIT? Incredible! Desperate? I tried calling the number they gave. Voice mail! They got a full dose of the “new me of the new year” and I’m thoroughly pissed. Imagine, there’s a way for them to send me such an e-mail, but there’s no-one available to take the call! I replied to their threat via reply e-mail response, sent to SMS, then sent the reply on the web-site contact page, then posted the same reply on their little “blog”. It’ll be quite nice if their competition gets hold of my replies. I look forward to that. After all, nothing “personal” should ever be posted any-where on the Internet. This morning, first thing in the year, I’m so angry I’m actually cold to the bone! Particularly because they send me this shit and there’s no-one available to respond! Secondly, because I went out of my way to go to the post office, in the snow, to send them their damned payment. Well… let this be an indication of what’s to come in 2013: War of the Worlds… mine and every-body else’s. – On the really FUN and interesting side of the day: For some crazy reason, I didn’t want to listen to anything in English and didn’t have the courage to listen to anything in French because… well… HOME-sickness is sitting in my gut this morning (I want to go HOME today, to be at HOME on this day in particular) so I got the notion to go searching for… the STRENGTH of my ancestory and traditions: GERMAN! Believe it or not, I found Bayern radio! And they’re playing “Schlager” but not all the really contemporary stuff. The music was rather more of the older music, hand-clapping, toe-tapping GERMAN music! WOW! I got the broom going on the floors, coffee water on the stove, the dishes cleared… I was… GERMAN! No matter what happens in the world, no matter how vulnerable or susceptible I’m feeling, the blood of my Heritage comes through to support and provide the strength and courage I need. My lineage, GERMAN (and, often enough, JEWISH) comes bubbling up from the marrow and… the World will go to Hell! THIS morning, that’s just where it all went as I danced my way round the house, proud of my recent accomplishments, proud that, in spite of all the shit I’ve been accosted with/by, this morning, I’m here in a house that I happen to like, in a village I happen to like, alone? yes, but surviving. And, quite likely, the fact that I’m still here in Vermont, still roaming about, still managing to carry on the general daily necessities AND still going along being “liked” by some, is, in all likelihood, just enough to piss the bloody-fukking shit out of SO many people! And THAT rather encouraged me. As it was with my father who tried, untiringly, for all of about 16 years to destroy me and failed to do so, today, strangers get the same dose of their defeat. I AM HERE! DEAL WITH IT! AND… I’M CLOSER TO HOME! I took sheer delight in knowing that, out there, some-where, SOMEone is, most likely, PISSED that I’m HERE, going about my own business, un-scathed. Hey! Maybe it IS psychotic. But… I just don’t care. – Since it’s a new year, I decided to get a few notes sent off to some people whom I haven’t really corresponded with in a while. AN e-mail went off to Motek (whom I do, sincerely miss), and another to Moe and Ev (I thought of them this morning as I shovelled, as I always think of them as I shovel the drive). I still have to send one off to Bob and Lyle, with them, it’s an opportunity to keep in touch with “Vermonters” with whom I actually got along rather nicely. – To my amazement, Motek replied almost immediately! It was almost a joy to see, but his message was rather un-pleasant and he got an immediate response, in the fashion of the day: curt and un-caring. My error. He immediately replied, clearing it all up. It’s the same old thing with e-mails: there’s no voice, no nuance in the digital word. I did misunderstand. But happily, the matter got cleared. And, it was such a comfort and consolation when he sent:
“I have only two things to say about your situation
1sorry things did not come out as you expected moving toVT
2 get the hell out of there!
A place so fucking hostile is not the place for you,wish I could do something to help you but you are not the type to take help
If you decide to come back we may be able to do some work together
I’m afraid you may freeze to death there
Come back to civilization please”
There are “Loves” that never really disappear… in and from the most un-likely places and people. His words were the tonic this old, shredded heart need to start back on the mend… granted, with severe scar tissue, but it’s got “Life” back in it today. – And so, the day continued. A bit of cleaning that should have been done before today, a little (precious little) to eat, a nap to compensate for the fatigue of the past couple of days. All went rather well enough. – One thing I need to note: This evening, wanting to watch something with no substance, something to just mentally drift away for a while to, I found, on Ntflx, “Fairly Odd-parents”! I settled on the chair in Silas’ room, with fired eggs and cheese (dinner) and began enjoying a relaxing few moments… Only a few. The mind began to wander: Michael is dead. All of ******* years old, my little nephew. A Sweet-heart, all told. A wonderful young man with SO much potential! One of the rare Blessings to this World… Gone. It saddened me terribly. But then came THE kick in the face: I’m so convinced that his ugly, nasty parents, my sister and brother-in-law, most likely poisoned his mind with lies about me. I can’t help but wonder if he died believing that I didn’t like, let alone Love him? I wonder what evil shit his parents pulled against me. And what hurts deepest is that now, there’s no way I could ever counter any harm they did. All I can do is hope that, in some manner or fashion, the superstitions of our youth have some basis and that, in death, we actually can become aware of TRUTH. I can only hope tonight, that, some-how he knows how bitterly I miss him. I wonder if I should try to contact Sarah, to set things right with her before it too gets to be “too late”. A recent search for her put her in Massachusetts. I found that rather interesting: we both left NY for New England. And Mass? Hey! But I wonder what sort of damage might come of it: will it just drag my “siblings” back into my life… something that I just WILL NOT TOLERATE! I have NO desire to make ANY amends with my “siblings”. NONE at all! I want NO connections to or with ANY of them. But by contacting Sarah, it might lead to that in some manner. I have a lot of very deep and serious contemplation where this is concerned, and, this is a decision I have to make… unilaterally… alone. – But then… Tonight, the REALL JOY OF JOYS OF THE DAY: Skype with Nancy! No matter what, it still just takes me by utter shock: Seeing her and talking with her is nothing short of REMARKABLY AMAZING! We get started immediately and it’s as if we’ve been chatting about all sorts of things for a life-time! There are no skips, no dead zones in conversation, no uncomfortable periods of silence. And when she mentions places she’s been to, places she knows in NY, it always takes me, my heart just skips along to a happy little beat. The Albany area, the Hudson Valley, just SUPER! Tonight, un-believably, we actually chatted away from 19-22.00! Almost 3 hours of non-stop talking! It was INCREDIBLE! It seemed like only about an hour at most, but the conversation just flowed right along! Makes me wonder: Do we really actually meet other people at some point in our existence that we don’t know about? Is there really some kind of “cosmic connection” with other people that we’re completely un-aware of? How is it that she found me, on Twtr of all places? How is it that she chose to “follow” my rantings back in the days when I was posting comments, in the dark, from a metal-frame bed, on a plastic mattress, in a Homeless Shelter in NYC? What is it that brings people together? And in this case… over a span of so many miles? Really, something that perplexes me, entertains and amuses, and makes me wonder about Creation. – So, after a most-needed up-lifting of Heart and Soul, the day, this first day of this year comes to a close… on a truly CHEERFUL note! It was a day of anger, bitterness, sadness, Love, Joy. I suppose it was what could be and will be thought of as “the perfect day”, comprised of “balance” of emotions. It as a day of re-connections, decisions, good and bad, dark and light. And as I went to bed, exhausted, I thought: Let the “balance” of this day be ALL that is necessary for the coming year, from this day forward, may all be movement toward SUCCESS… in all respects. And… thankful for the GREAT people with whom I’ve been so TRULY BLESSED. Maybe, just maybe, things I’ve done for which I’ve carried guilt, anger and sadness have been redressed, paid for in full. Just… maybe. Time, once again… only Time will reveal. – 2013 is now in swing. Tomorrow… just another long line of… “Tomorrow”…

Wed.2.Jan: 3.57 Why am I awake? Assuredly, I’ve no idea. But here I am. And here I’ll stay. J’y suis. J’y reste. I haven’t thought of THAT since… well… probably 1980!? The Separatistes’ bill-boards in Montréal! WELL! BONJOUR! And my this be just the beginning of a Great day! – Well! It’s already 9.34! At about 6.00, I just couldn’t handle the rush of almost painful fatigue that washed over me and I went for a lie-down with the alarm re-set for 7.00. When the alarm sounded at 7.00, I turned it off and drifted into a deeper sleep, with a dream that I don’t recall at all other than the fact that when, at 8.30 I actually woke from it, I wanted to stay asleep to enjoy the rest of it. But… there are “responsible” things that MUST be accomplished today. It’s a “WORK” day! And DAMN ME! Today, I’ll have accomplished MUCH! – Ah… when I woke this morning, there was the lightest dusting of new snow on everything. Just enough to make the land-scape one solid blanket of white. When I went for my lie-down, more light snow was falling. Winter… in the North Country… snow, snow and more snow. Nicely though, knowing that Silas won’t be back until Friday night at the earliest, I don’t feel the compulsion to jump out there to clear the drive. It will, of course, get done in due time. but there’s no rush this morning. When I woke, the accumulation was just enough so that when the plow came round, it accumulated at the end of the walk and drive. Oh well. Something to do today. – 9.46 I just looked out the window at the snow on the drive… TYRE TRACKS! Went down-stairs to see if Hillary has returned and, disturbingly, the tracks stop at the back of the house, foot-prints go to the garage, then to the back door here! SOMEBODY has been here this morning!? I wonder who. And for what purpose. The foot-prints come only to this back-door… not to Hillary’s. I wonder. – Then, the phone rang. Storage Post. I let it go to voice mail. What-ever they have to say, I want it recorded. – And now? Now I have to get up from this desk and on with the “responsible” things of the day. 2nd day of January… and away we go! – 11.55 Smokes: check. Drive cleared: check. Footsteps into garage: remains a mystery. Coffee water on: check. Balances on cards: check. In a foul mood because of the tyre tracks in drive and mysterious foot-prints: oh check. Some things are just meant to be left alone. It’s just that somebody came to the door before 8am. I’m thinking it may have been Hillary, come to ask Silas if she could leave Wally here with “us”. The fact that the foot-prints didn’t go to her door is what puzzles. But if it was her, going to the garage to check if Silas’ car was in there makes sense. Well, we shall see as time goes marching on. – 14.06 GREAT NEWS! The tyre tracks in the drive were Don’s. At about 12.30 he came to replace the kitchen faucet! WE HAVE RUNNING WATER IN THE KITCHEN SINK! We talked about “Victoria”. He told of 2 houses he’d built locally, both are haunted. Said that I’m the first to experience the “spirit” living in this house. (And he admitted to owning a 3-family rental house in Boston.) Said I keep the house very nicely. Hey. Of course I do. – And now? It’s time to relax a bit. I’m really exhausted. – 17.20 and most of what I did today was… sleep and be sleepy and lazy. I don’t know, but I have NO energy to “do” anything at all. – Toni Braxton on the radio “I shall never breathe again”… I used to be such a fanatic about this song. But tonight… nothing. Odd, I think, how songs are so attractive when we’re at a point in life where we can fall in love, and the words tell a beautiful story, poignant story, something that touches heart and soul… and when we get to the point where romantic love is a piece of a long-lost past, these songs just don’t “do” it for us any longer. Nothing. Oh well.

Thu.3.Jan: Insomnia strikes again for some reason. I was in bed at 20.30 (on Wed. night), and read until I started to doze. By 21.00, I’d turned the light out and got comfortable under the covers… but sleep just would not come. I’d drift a bit, and just as I thought I was falling asleep, my body would wake again! I forced myself to stay in bed until about 23.30 when it became obvious that I was NOT going to go to sleep. So, I got up, came to the lap-top and began working on the notes and such I’d started with regard to the law suit. – The house has been on the rather cold side all evening in spite of the heat coming up. And the heat’s been coming up on the average of every 20 minutes no matter what I set the thermostat at. – At about 18.00 this evening (2 January) I turned the computer off in Silas’ room. At about 0.15, I was in the kitchen, making tea… the computer was ON! – 1.15 The house is either settling or somebody just stepped on a loose step on the landing. 1.51 THUMP! in the living-room. The heat is up AGAIN! I’ve finished a cup of “Nighty Night” tea and am going to TRY to get SOME rest. The “Bullet List” for attorney/court is coming along nicely. Who would have believed that there would be SO MUCH WORK involved in this! – 2.20 Just cleaning e-mails and WOW! The house is noisy tonight/this morning! All sorts of noises coming from the living-room… cracks, crunches, thumps and thuds. Sounds like somebody’s walking down there. But then again, it’s Minus 25C(Minus 13F) tonight. The poor house is probably pissed off! I did find that the dining-room door needs weather-stripping! And there’s a constant chill all over in spite of the thermometre in the room here registering at 25C. Oh well. Interesting night of insomnia. – 8,16and it’s a delightful… MINUS 27. – 21.30 Not a bad day after all, all told. I actually got things accomplished and no nap! I;d planned on being in bed by this hour, but I’m not too terribly disappointed. – Accomplishments? OK: This morning I got the documents pertaining to the court case with Days Inn REALLY orderly! It took the longest while because there were so many of them and duplicate information on many. But it’s where I can find things now. The only thing remaining is the “Intro Letter” to the attorney, and I guess I’ve found one. Not much choice, really. I DESPISE this State for that. No choices in ANYthing around here. So I’m just going to have to throw caution and distrust to the wind and hope like Hell that it goes well. – Next? I actually ATE a brunch! Made pancakes using Oma’s recipe. No, I didn’t make crêpes, but the “pancakes” were filling and necessary for what was to come. – Also… shot off an e-mail to Bob and Lyle (now to see if I’ll ever get a reply?). And a reply to Fran! I’d like very much to keep in touch with them all. If it turns out that way, it will be quite nice. If not… well… to be honest, I don’t care at all. It’s like that now: not caring. – The very next item on today’s agenda was to insulate the dining-room (Green Room) door! The draft that comes in through that thing is DISGUSTING! I was going to try to get weather-stripping, even mentioned it to Silas in an e-mail early this morning. But I knew that he wouldn’t ring that sort of thing. I mean, I asked for a tin of black-eye peas and got a tin of black beans! There have been many things I’ve asked him to pick-up and bring for the house that have never gotten here. So, today, I took some of the plastic shopping bags that we’ve been using for garbage and… well… stuffed them accordingly round the storm door where possible, then put a line of them round the door-jam and when I shut the door… NO DRAFT! FINALLY! As of this evening, there’s a noticeable difference in that room and the rest of the house as well. As I worked on the door I couldn’t help but think: Ah… the clever ingenuity of the Homeless. And I certainly have been just that for a GREAT part of my life. Experience and intuition. Works like a great charm. (I went down to the cellar to check the oil today too. Just squeeking below the half-tank mark. I have to check the receipt for the date I got the last order and see how long this half tank will last before I have to get another order. I just HOPE, more than I’ve ever HOPED before, that it won’t be necessary until after mid-January at the very earliest. But, as of right now, I’m proud of my frugality. It’s been chilly. It’s been down-right COLD, but I’ve been very good at preserving this oil… for finances’ sake,to be sure. – For the “To come”: This afternoon I got me dressed and strolled out the door to the Post Office to pay January’s storage. I NEED to get to NY and get my things OUT of there! And I need to do it this month. No more butting about. There are many things I can do with the 46$/month and I’m fed up with their threats and the added fees all of a sudden. I mean, they’ve already put another 100$ on my balance due! Of course, I didn’t send that. Fuk them! If I have to fight them, so I shall. But the fact remains that I have to get my things out of there! NOW! – From the PO, I walked to the Dollar General for badly needed cleaning supplies. I was very good there today. I got cleaners, I got 2 new air fresheners for the heat registres (Airwick Lavender something… smells delightfully clean and WARM!) AND… along with a few other cleaning items… 20/TWENTY POUNDS of salt for the ice on the stoop! YES! I walked all the way back to the house on the pack-snow and ice, up Town St, carrying 20 pounds of salt! Fuk! I asked Silas to pick it up, even from Dollar General, and it NEVER got here. There’s ICE on the stoops! SHIT! Salt isn’t something fun and cute to have in the house. But… the maintenance of the house is MY responsibility. That’s that. – I brought the DG items to the house, left them in-side the front door and headed right back out… to Mayhew’s for smokes and then to the Market for… well… food. I won’t buy much there because the selection is shit, the quality is shit and the prices are inappropriately high. But I need milk, COFFEE (SHIT COFFEE THERE! CERTAINLY NOT WHAT I USUALLY DRINK… AND EVEN MORE EXPENSIVE! I’d like to wait til Silas gets back, but, I know how that would go. No sense. Unable to trust and depend on him.), and a nasty frozen pizza (all of which I ate for dinner tonight… HAH!). And… with the groceries, I walked back up Town St. and into the house to “settle” for the night. Put things up, cooked and ate the pizza whilst watching “Fairly Oddparents” and, well, WASHED THE DISHES! IN RUNNING WATER! HOT, RUNNING WATER! What a JOY to get back to the “normal” washing of dishes! – Dishes done and on the rack to dry over-night, I went to Skype to see if Nancy was on. She wasn’t. I checked Twtr. I’m sick to death of the arse-heads I see on there these days. I asked for sheets: Nancy was the only ONE who offered to send any. 250-plus people “following” me on that shit-line and not ONE responded! Then, I mentioned starting a “DistroCentre” where I could receive blankets by donation and take them into Richford and to St.Albans, and to Burlington (at the very least) and give them to the poor folks who are on the streets in these “Minus”-degree temperature days. FUK THEM ALL! NOT ONE PERSON CAME FORWARD TO PARTICIPATE! These are the same people who’ll send MONEY to Mark and the likes… those who are “studying” Homelessness and Homeless people! I’d disappointed and disgusted… thoroughly disgusted. Tonight I was at the point of simply deleting the account and walking away from it all. Tonight, I just walked away from it. I don’t want to communicate with these “people” any longer. If Nancy and I can communicate on there, that’s fine. But I’m just staying away from it other-wise. They all just pissed me off and pissed on me. The end. – And now, it’s just after 22.00 and I’m getting tired. Hopefully, tonight, I’ll get under those covers, read a bit and GO TO SLEEP! Silas said he’d be up tomorrow. I doubt it. But I want to get a good, regular, normal start on the day. Things to be accomplished again. – For now? It’s “Wrap-It-Up” time! Call this day: Finished! – Oh… no Nancy today! There’s an empty void in that. But… she’s got Life to attend to, just as I do. There’s the week-end though.

Fri.4.Jan: 7.58 In spite of all efforts to get to bed and to sleep at a regular hour last night, I didn’t get to sleep until about mid-night. Why? Can’t say, really. The hours just ran amok and I found things to do. Received a reply from Fran already. She says she misses me. I’m rather shocked because when I left, it wasn’t the nicest way to leave some-one. Matter of fact, it was rather rude. But she seems to understand that I wasn’t “me” back in those days. And the truth of the matter is, I wasn’t. I was exhausted, dejected, depressed. I left there because I needed rest, sleep. I left there to escape from the bull-shit that had been dumped on me for almost every day of 8 months. Sleep deprivation, the courts, the accusations, the barrage of people out to make my settling into this State… all of it just got to me. Then there was the house, mostly filthy, though, truthfully and with all honesty, not her fault. She’s blind and can’t see the dirt and such. That’s what I should have taken care of. I did, for a bit. But then, the depression and exhaustion hit hard and I just resented every single breath taken. Am I ashamed of myself? Only to a point. I’ll never forget the nights when I heard “You need your sleep…” and then being kept awake until 2.00am and such. I’ll never forget the nights of sleeping in the car, in front of the house, cold and cramped, and nothing being done to make that avoidable. But I’ll never forget the hours of sitting at table, having coffee, smoking rolled cigarettes, talking about NY, our past, the North Country, laughing, our hates of Vermont, and out loves of Vermont, how we both missed the sanity and order of NY. We laughed. We cried. Indeed, the good times out-weigh the bad. But I was worn to the marrow. And there was Fran, right there. Well? Those were those days. These are these days. There’s still time to make better. I’ll be trying to get that done. She’s a wonderful Human-being. And I too, miss her. I composed a reply to her. Will send it off later this morning. – But I’d set the alarm for the regular 4.30. It sounded, on time; I turned it off and… right back to sleep. Woke at about 7.30. A light snow this morning. The forecast tells it’s going to be like this for the next few days. – E-mail from Silas: I’d asked if he’d be willing to help me with my storage dilemma by renting, on his card, a vehicle, and I’d pay him in cash. As with the black-eye peas/black beans, the asking him to pick-up snow-melt salt/me walking to the store and carrying it back, and all the little things I’ve asked of him… the reply was simply a referral to the service he uses. Once again, I’m on my own with this. It hits me rather hard. I ask for the smallest things in life, really. I ask for stupid, little things that don’t take people out of their way and, when I ask, I always preface with and include “If it won’t take you out of your way…” and such. Once in a great while, I ask something quite important but not earth-shattering but quite important. If the little things don’t happen, can’t happen, I don’t much mind because I always function with contingencies and I’m prepared to act on those. But when larger favours are asked and I get the “stone-wall”, it strikes harder than most people would perceive. I asked to be brought down to Jericho so that I could get to the PO, said that I’d hitch the 60miles back or hitch the 30 miles into Burlington and get the bus back to St.Albans from where I’d hitch back to the house. Jericho is on his way into Burlington. He could even stop momentarily at Jericho, I’d get my mail, and we could go into Burlington where I’d wait the day for the bus to St.Albans and then only have to hitch to the house. I got: a trip into Sutton. For Christmas, I asked for a lift to the market in Enosburgh, 10miles away. I got a lap-top. I guess I’m simply ungrateful… impossibly ungrateful. – Well, it’s already going for 8.30. The snow stopped falling. There isn’t enough to make shovelling necessary yet. So I need to get busy with more serious work here. This morning I have to get to the lettre to the attorney. I HAVE to get that done! Then? There are “Thank You” notes and such that MUST, MUST be done! And house-keeping! Right now I feel like just going right back under the blankets and letting this day go by. Ah… the morning. – 11.52 Brunch: took the left-over baked potato, scrambled 2 small eggs into it and voila! Brunch, served with nasty coffee. – This morning, by some fluke, I looked for “la Bottine Souriante” on-line. Found a video of them, live, in a small auditorium and, well, how the tears welled uncontrollably. I’m just SO bloodyfuking HOME-sick. Damned shame. Reminded me of the old guy in Place Jacques Cartier who played the accordion and wildly tapped his feet on the boards (a pallet-type construction he’d carry with him). Brought tears to my eyes then. He disappeared. That too, brought tears to my eyes. And this morning? WOW! My mind reeled with the memories that came flooding! le Vieux, the clubs, the walking, the Métro, the mountain, Villray, Chabot, the whole lot! A bit over-whelming. HOME. – And now, 12.02, the snow is pouring down! In about an hour I’ll have no choice but to get out there and grab what’s on the drive before it gets to be too much. Not so much because anybody might be coming… I’m actually hoping nobody comes the week-end. But there might just be about 6cm of this stuff between now and tonight and I don’t want to have to haul and lug the stuff. So, get it whilst it’s light. – The house is quiet. I want to damp-mop the floors. Tonight is Shabbat (not that that means anything round here but… Tradition!). I want to spend this one quietly. – (On Sunday morning I continue and re-cap.) As is usually the case, the day went along with all sorts of activities to keep me “occupied”. I can’t say what those activities were, but that’s pretty much the norm for me. I’m never with-out something to do, but I can never really remember what exactly those things are. But later this after-noon, I was on-line and happened to check my e-mail and… An e-mail from Fran! She closed with “Love you forever”. It brought so much Peace to my heart. I neither want, nor need any more animosity in my life now, and I really don’t hate or dislike her. She did what she did, and I know it wasn’t intentional. She was merely living her life as she had, she was in a period of great hard-ships and I was in a period of such intense stress and bother. Had my own affairs been better, we’d have parted in a much kinder manner. And here, now, again, my shit made that time so miserable. But today, all is well and I’m relieved to know that. – I accomplished no house-work today as I’d hoped to do. Other things distracted me as I waited for the snow to level-off, knowing that Silas was coming up today and wanting to make sure the drive was clear enough for him to get in. WELL! The snow fell heavily and I waited a bit too long. It had really accumulated by the time my lazy arse got out there to attend to it. But, during the course of the day, I’d found and put a copy of “La Poule À Collin” by la Bottine Souriante onto the iPod and, with that blasting in my ears, I headed out to take care of the snow… for another THREE HOURS! They passed rather well as I actually DANCED! to the music, which I had on repeat until finished. In fact, it worked SO well that I actually worked-up an impressive SWEAT as I shovelled. So much so that I was, well before I’d done, down to a hooded sweat-shirt instead of the layer-upon-layer of sweat-shirts and jacket. As I shovelled and danced, I was all but exhausted and, for the most part of the time, I actually pondered, in excellent mood, the delightful possibility of heart attack. Imagine, I thought, how wonderful it would be (for me) to suddenly drop dead right there in the drive, perhaps on the mound of snow I’d made between the house and the space where I’d parked the Ford, to be covered with the still-falling snow. There I could lay, un-disturbed, perhaps all through the Winter, covered by layer upon layer of fresh, new snow. Meanwhile, my spirit would be released and I could go HOME… so very close by now. The thought made me smile, work all the harder and dance all the more happily. (Obviously, that didn’t happen… no such luck for me.) – After the work was done, all was cleared and the snows subsided a bit, I came into the house, took a nice shower to wash off the sweat and put my clothes into the washer (because they HAD to be washed after all the sweat). Shower done, the day “done” as far as I was concerned, I put on my pajama-sweats and had a bit to eat, settled-in for the night. Because of all the snow and slush accumulations, I figured Silas wouldn’t make the trip up here tonight and so, I poured a drink, got to the computer and on to Twtr to chat with Nancy (I don’t really use it for anything other than that of late since I’m just so disgusted with the self-serving and self-aggrandising shit-hole dregs who do little more than taut their self-perceived accomplishments). As Nancy and I chatted… PJ SHOWED-UP! ALIVE! IMAGINE THAT! What a relief to know that he’s OK… or as “OK” as could be expected. Still the wallower, clueless and such. Still, I’m relieved to know that he didn’t move so far away only to fall into mishaps and mischiefs. The 3 of us briefly commuunciated. PJ rather disappeared in the midst. But as Nancy said, it was like the days before: the 3 of us “together”, communicating on Twtr. When she pointed that out, it rather struck me, a bit on the “hard” side: Yes, it was, for me, just back to the days in the Shelter when these 2 were my connection to “sanity” in a world that had gone completely mad. That I’d put my trust into somebody never met in person, left the life I KNEW and just suddenly got on a plane to leave it all behind…. MILES away! And yet, of the 2, the one who has become “real family” and Friend, Nancy seems so much closer. I’ve a closer bond to her than to PJ now. How truly strange the World can be. – PJ had disappeared into the ether of the Internet and Nancy and I were chatting away when… head-lights came into the drive. Silas was home. It was about 21.30! So I abruptly shot a brief line to close Twtr for the night and headed to the kitchen to un-lock the door for him. – He came in, sombre, not really greeting me in any particular manner and, not unusually, headed directly for the fridge to find something to eat. When I asked, he admitted that he hadn’t eaten all day (I tend to doubt that very much, but I’m sure, for him, it was a fact). He was so hungry that he actually found, heated and ate some curry that he’d made quite a while ago that I’d put up in the freezer for him. I have to admit that, although it was good to see him eat, the odour of curry wasn’t anything I’d particularly missed. But… he was home, he was eating and he was in some sort of “mood”. Me? I was rather happy to see him so I just let his mood work its own way to where-ever it was headed. – When he’d finished eating and began to settle (in front of his computer… as usual), we talked about my need for a vehicle this month to go get my things out of storage. He actually whined about renting a vehicle and allowing me to drive it! Imagine! He’s the one who gets stuck in the oddest places, has “troubles” with operating his own vehicle, has had to have the door replaced on his car because he wasn’t paying attention, and yet, he has doubts about MY driving! I swallowed the things I wanted to point out to him (these items being only a few on my list) and yet, he went on-line and found a few options. Now; will he actually HELP me in this? No telling. But at least he made the effort, with-out being asked further, to look into it. I appreciate that much. It was decided that it would be done at some time in the next couple of weeks when he has a day off so that he can be with me to pick the vehicle up. We shall see… in time. – Once settled, he wanted to watch a latest instalment of “Battlestar Galactica” with me. And so, as is the routine, we settled in his room, he, under the blankets and me on the chair. – The next thing I knew, I was waking up, he was fast asleep in his bed… it was 3.00 in the morning! As usual, I got up, quietly shut the lights in the house and went up to my room… Silas was here, asleep, and I was off to sleep… late. But it was, all told, a good day.

Sat.5.Jan: Woke to alarm at 7.30 went back to sleep until 8.00. – At 9.30 Silas was awake, on Skype-voice talking with some-one, dressed, shoes and all. The house was very warm. I kept the heat up through the night to make sure he was comfortable. As for me? It was entirely TOO warm. But that’s because I’m so accustomed to the lower temperatures now. No complaints: I conserve the oil for just such times when others are in the house. Ah… right back into the “Northern” life-style… and it feels WONDERFUL! – Before going down-stairs to “meet and greet”, i gleaned my e-mails and today!!! *** E-MAIL FROM MOE! *** Friendly, delightful and re-assuring! The tension I’d sensed when last I phoned and spoke with Ev was my mis-perception! All is well with all of us! WOW! Talk about feelings of Peace! This “new year” is getting off to quite the wonderful start: Peace with Silas, Fran, Bob and Lyle, now Moe and Ev! SUPER STUPENDOUS! I was in quite the cheerie spirits when I went down to the kitchen to find Silas at the stove… preparing POUTINE! at about 10.00 in the morning! I had to laugh to myself: Just the Summer past, I introduced him to Jamaican jerk and that stuck to the point where I’m saturated with it. Now? It’s Poutine! He’s such a remarkable fellow, so prone to “fad”, so relatively easy to impress when it comes to food. He’s a pleasure to watch, to observe. And he’s intriguing in that , at his age, he’s still very much an impressionable youngster. It’s refreshing… and, perhaps, a bit of a lesson to me… He’s retaining many attributes that I’ve never really enjoyed in my life-time and, in so many ways, enjoying life for what it should be. I almost feel quite guilty: I’ve been trying to introduce “Responsibility” into his existence, have probably been oppressive in that respect. I should not only allow him to enjoy the “World” he lives in, but I should take a lesson from him and enjoy a bit of the time I have left in this World, join his, and perhaps let much of what I keep throwing at him just be. Well, he’d made enough Poutine for 4 very healthy portions! But my appetite doesn’t kick in until later in the afternoon. He made me a bowl and put it up in the fridge and then asked if I wanted to take a run into Enosburgh today to do some grocery shopping. Well, of course! In the meanwhile, he had to get his cheque from the PO and run over to Don to pay rent. Me? I had my first morning coffee, got dressed and… gee, my routine… headed out to clear last night’s snow from the drive whilst he was out. (Another 4 hour job today… but this time, I had a sense of sympathy for the folks across the street and, with-out any fuss or notification, shovelled the end of their front walk where out glorious team of Town Clowns plowed them in. A good deed to be punished in no time, I’m certain.) – At about 15.30, Silas drove to Hannaford’s. Groceries and laundry soap for Silas (but not for me… too expensive) AND A CRISHTMAS CACTUS! I wanted to go to Family Dollar but he had the car running when I got out of the market. Honestly, I cannot understand what the damned big deal would have been to allow me a few moments in the store whilst we were THERE! Now I’ll be walking the 10miles into Enosburgh and, of course, 10miles back. But, at least I won’t have inconvenienced any-one by doing so. Ask no favours, get no disappointments. Fukme! Really. – The drive back to the house was BREATH-TAKING! GOOD KRISTE! THE SCENERY IS NOTHING SHORT OF STUPENDOUSLY MAGNIFICENT THESE DAYS! The local “mountains” just glimmer and shine in their dusting of snow on a clear day. Silas and I even discussed the frozen river and how beautiful it looks. As Silas said: Vermont is pure illusion: a calendar/post card of a presentation… and then… the people fuk it up. But we’re both rather comfortable here… I guess, for all intent and purpose, we’re rather settled here… and we both DELIGHT in just what the Earth has to offer in the way of scenery and presentation, and we’re both learning to simply dismiss the stupidity of the people. – 17.01 Odd, but for some reason, tonight, I can’t wait to be alone in the house. I have to get to Dollar General again this evening. And, tomorrow, I’ll have to go to Mac’s for things that have been used-up…. like my soda (he’s got his own, but mine -tonic- seems to be the attraction… in spite of the fact that he’s said that he doesn’t like it). – 18.18 Silas is just leaving. Has to be to work at 9 tomorrow morning. Says he doesn’t want to risk bad weather in the morning. The house goes quiet…. very quiet. Odd, but he comes here and spends most of his time with his video games. I try to be around for him. He doesn’t like the house when it’s empty. I wonder though, if he doesn’t need “down time”, time to just do what he wants. I wonder if he gets any of that in BTV. – I’ve decided that, instead of walking 10miles to Enosburgh tomorrow, I’d rather walk the 8miles to Sutton to the Housewares store there. Hopefully the weather and mood will permit (and the store will be open on Sunday). – Well, the day ended with quite the sink full of dishes. Silas had been home, thus, cooking had been done. Matter of fact, he’d baked a loaf of bread and left me half the loaf! Yup… the kid’s OK (so long as you don’t “expect” or “anticipate”). – Dishes done and in the rack, the oven needs to be cleaned again, but that’s really no trouble. I sprayed a cleaner in it and left it for the over-night… A small and light vodka-tonic with a splash of apricot nectar and on to “Twitting With Nancy” for a while. I look forward to that in the evening. And so, tonight it was one of our briefer sessions, but wonderful, as always. – For SOME ridiculous reason, the song “La Vie Est Belle” came to mind as I wrapped up and… stupid here went searching for it… which led to searches for more Soukous/Zouk and one song in particular that I’d had on a compliation and enjoyed SO much but can’t recall the title of. (As is the usual case, the fact that I no longer have it, that the CD got tossed with the rest of my “life” by that insipid, useless shit that some will refer to as my “sister”, the hurt of loss, the anger, the bitterness rose in my gut again! How I suppose that, in the truest sense of the concept, I do, indeed and in fact… HATE her! And now? I don’t care enough to even try to change that. She’s gotten her “just deserts” as far as I’m concerned.) The WORST part if it all? ANOTHER REALLY LATE NIGHT!… and alone in the house.. again. But, the day was rather well.

Sun.6.Jan: 8.00 Finally got to sleep at 3.00 this morning. And this morning I wake to… can one imagine this? SURPRISE! SNOW! Well, there goes my little plan to walk up to Sutton. And to think, I was pondering the possibility of getting un drapeau or 2 at the Home store! Alas. – I also wake feeling a bit guilty because of staying awake until 3.00 and yet, while poor Silas was here yesterday, he wanted so much to show me the computer game because he knows I’m fascinated by and with the graphics but I actually sat there, in his room, and dozed-off! Well, today is another day and I’ll be functioning on about 4,5 hours sleep. Tonight, we will be in bed and asleep at “normal” hours! That’s enough of the “all night” crap. – But what did I DO until then? Search for more music. Last night was, for some un-known reason, Papa Wemba. And that led to more Zouk. There was a song that I truly enjoyed, had it on a CD (that my sister took care of) and I just can’t recall the title or the artist. I searched a few times, to no avail. There’s time… I think. – I have to say that the damage done by that little bitch and her gang of thugs is worse than any-one can imagine. Here, years later, I’m still feeling the pains and inconveniences and depression of that day and the results! She, like Dianne Olsen, came in, reeked their destruction and went on about their lives. Meanwhile, I sit here, even today, missing those things that would have made this house SO much more a “home” and would have made “being” so much easier. Here I sit, at the age of 57, thinking of replacing those things that are necessities, when, I could very well have had them right here and now. This morning, I feel no remourse for having Wished and Prayed for the suffering my “sister” must be experiencing these days, having watched her son, the child she brought into this world out of her own shelfishness, perish. My Heart breaks when I think of Michael having to suffer for the evil that is his mother. The child should not have had to suffer for the evil of his mother and father. But then, it was even written in Torah that children would suffer for the wrongs of their parents. Indeed, it comes to pass yet again. – This morning, I had a rather strange DREAM: I don’t recall most of it and I woke from it. It was a dark, Winter day. I was with Liz (but in the dream, it was her voice, even when we were in close proximity, I never “saw” her, only heard her voice) some-where. I’d met her at her job when she’d done and we were to go some-where to meet a group of people for some festive get-together. I think we were some-where in Vermont AND Albany NY at the same time, but I didn’t know my way round very well and was supposed to follow her. She had a car. I was rather sliding about on ice, not in a vehicle, or even ON anything… just sliding, but easily and at rather good speed. We left from a parking lot that had walls of snow so high that I couldn’t see over them for the most part, from being plowed. They resembled a bit of a maze. Liz sped off and I began following until, just before getting to the exit of the parking lot, I lost her. There was a bit of a rise in the way out and I could just barely see over the snow wall onto the main road, and when I looked, there was a car leaving, but it wasn’t Liz and she was no-where to be found! At the exit, I could turn either left or right and wasn’t sure which way to go. But as I left, there was a small sign, a pictogramme, indicating some sort of business to the right and some strange pictogramme that indicated “finance” to the left. I figured THAT was the direction I had to take to get into town because “town” is where we were supposed to meet. As I sped along the main road, and incident of some sort with a small bird. Sparrow or something. I’m not certain “what” happened to the little bird, but some-how, I was responsible for it’s death… either I hit it or it slammed into a utility pole. I brought it to a another utility pole where some people were gathered. Up on the pole were nests and stickers with pictures of the little bird. Apparently, the group was concerned with the death of so many of these birds. (As a reference: I now believe this had something to do with the reading I did just before going to sleep… The Monsters of Templeton… a reference to massacre of pigeons. It was a poignant chapter!) I climbed the pole, put the little bird in one of several nests and attached a sticker to the pole. The bird wasn’t dead, just injured, but would survive. A young man spoke to me in a friendly tone, on the topic of the birds and when I’d done putting the little creature into the nest and was assured it would survive just fine, I went to leave on my trip to meet Liz. I bade the young man and the group “Bye-bye, bonjour, bonne journée.” and the young man began telling me something I didn’t quite understand because I wasn’t paying attention, more concerned about finding my way into town and meeting Liz and the others… He spoke French. And, I woke. – Well, there we have this morning’s entry. And now… on to salvage the rest of this day. – 10.20 Caught up with the Journal… the snow is STILL falling and accumulating! There will be shovelling today. But not right now. Right now, there are other things that NEED to be attended to and when that’s done… the rest will fall into place. – 19.13 I feel more like 29.13 right about now. Just worn to shreds. – Ms. Hillary’s returned this evening. Must have been 19.00 when her car came careening into the drive. Good thing I cleared it again this evening. Odd, the one who doesn’t use the drive makes certain it gets cleared of snow. Well, fukme. OK. The she stomped, and I mean STOMPED up the stairs and SLAMMED the door so damned hard it shook the dishes in the cup-boards in the kitchen here. Put me into an instant poor end of a bad snit. I wasn’t too far from it to begin with, what, with the lap-top being as bad as it could be. And now this. If I had a couple of dollars in the banque tonight, I’d be out of here, fuk the drive and all the rest of it. Just go. – The day? Most of it got spent on wiping most of what’s on this lap-top off. The damned thing! I feel all the worse for poor Silas! Spending money he really didn’t have to get it and it turns out to be nothing more than an old Word Processor. Damned thing can’t handle the soft-ware that came installed. Most of it’s gone now. Uninstalled. And still the damned thing runs worse than the old Dell I used to have (even after almost 10 years, it ran better than this thing does at less than a month). Fuking shame! I’m toying with the idea of letting Silas know and telling him to take it back and get his money back for it. God knows he needs the money more. It just takes all the joy out of using it. Really. And as I say, I spent most of the day trying everything I could to get it running at least up to par. Hopeless. – By about 15.00 I went out to clear the drive. The snow had been coming down regular most of the day and at that hour, it let up so I jumped to it. Got the whole thing done in a record 2,5 hours today! And, just as a little “gift” to the Town, I started piling the slush up on the “wall” at the end of the drive. The “wall” is almost 6ft high already. With the slush on it, if we have a snap freeze, the next time the Town decides to come by and plow more snow up to the front porch, there’ll be a bit of resistance in the ice. I’m just a bit fed up with all this ‘plow it into the yard’ shit. Anyway, the snow kept coming and is still coming even now. But I won’t be going back out there tonight. – I got the oven cleaned to the point where it almost looks like it’s never been used. That took a bit of doing, but it’s done. Accomplishment. – Tonight, franks for dinner, and watching the end of “Brokeback Mountain”. I’ve already seen the movie, and read the book a few times. Strange how it still puts me into the same state of spirit it always has: Numb and removed. Although it’s fiction, it does prove that there’s a possibility for 2 “Men” to fall in Love and not have to relinquish anything particularly “manly” or stereotypically “male” about themselves. I still don’t understand why I could never find that kind of relationship. And now, more than when I first saw the movie, I know it’s not going to happen for me. Makes me a bit more bitter. – Now, for tonight, I’m looking at a very early night of getting into bed and at some reading. Hopefully, an early night of sleep will come. Weather reports for the week are more of the same… snow. Wednesday is supposed to go up above freezing and be only cloudy. I’m thinking I’ll take that walk up to Sutton then, if not before. – Oh,funny as shit? I had to un-install the soft-ware for this typing programme (OpenOffice) and re-install it. The re-install came in French! Amusing? Or prophetic? – Well. it’s 19.34, a rather good year and a nice hour to close this day. The kitchen is clean. The dishes are done. Ms. Hillary has FINALLY settled-down. Hopefully she’ll stay that way. Silas said she’d been down with a bout of flu. Well, fukall, she doesn’t eat properly to begin with and smokes that shit weed. Is it any wonder? – Time to wrap this up. – 22.05 Tried wrapping this up and the fukking lap-top kept freeing and crashing! I’ve moved my personal files to FlashDrives and have deleted all my other things on it. Sent Silas an e-mail telling him the lap-top is being packed and made ready to return. I simply can’t handle the annoyance and aggravation. BESIDES, I want him to get his money back for this piece of shit! TOSHIBA IS SHIT! WINDOWS8 IS SHIT! AND I’M GOING BACK TO MY iPOD and PEN AND PAPER! THE END! FUK ALL OF THIS!

Mon.7.Jan: 18.52 It’s been a some-what “bad” sort of day and I can’t really say exactly why. Even now, I just feel so miserably tired, out of touch, strangely removed from, well, just strangely removed. When I woke this morning, not at 4.30 as I’d set the alarm for, but, at 3.46 for the first time and then, finally at 6.48, the covers on the bed were all over the place. I’d had one miserable night of it in my sleep. No dreams that I can recall. Nothing out of the ordinary. But it looked as if I’d thrown everything all over the bed/cot/what-ever. it was so violent that my glasses were on the floor, things were just strewn. That was the beginning. – But out-side, it was nothing short of magnificent! There was a crystal snow falling ever so lightly and the world glistened so beautifully! It truly was just super! – I had a coffee, just the one, got dressed and went directly out to shovel the drive before Ms. H. decided to run over the snow and pack tracks in it. Silly me… she never left the house. But the drive got done in just about 2 hours this morning. I’m getting the hang of this shit. Not that that made the task any more enjoyable. Actually, this morning, it wasn’t at all. In spite of doing something that I usually enjoy, this morning, I resented every single flake of snow that I moved. What really didn’t help the matter at all was the fact that the Town had been by earlier this morning and SHOVED the snow INto the front walk! It was SO close to the front porch, so high and so packed that it was actually a miserable effort to get it out of the way. But… the job got done. – When I finally got back into the house at about 9.15, I was tired… very exceptionally tired so, to avoid the fatigue, I immediately got started on cleaning the floors. They need a good cleaning, but today, they got the broom and the mop. Even Silas’ room got hit this morning. – Break time came about 11.45. An e-mail from Silas, a truly beautiful e-mail:
“… I’m not opposed to spending another 1 – 2 hundred dollars and getting you a machine that works.”
“… I’d rather spend this money on you then spend this money every month paying some beurocrat. At least I know you’ll put it to good use.”
“You may see this as me being dumb or naive, I see this as me giving you means in which you can keep and store your art and to write and express. 2 hundred dollars is nothing in a larger perspective; it’ll be quickly paid off, and you’ll have something that you can continue to use.”
I have to include the text here, not only to honour the things he sent, but as a reminder… to me mostly… maybe, at some time in future, to him. But it brought me to tears. I do so wish that I could believe that the words are sincere. I’m quite certain they were as his fingers hit the keys on the key-board. For now, I’ll accept them at that. Meanwhile, the lap-top remains in the box in his room. I can’t even bring my-self to look at it. I really feel like shit that it’s causing this much trouble. And today I thought: I should just shut up and use it for what it can do: type. But then I think: He spent that money on it and basically got shat on. I sent him a reply, a kind reply, and said that, if I have to take the busses to get to BestBuy and return it myself, alone, I’m willing to do just that. And I certainly am! I’m hurt because his good intentions were destroyed by this shit. I’m miserably hateful because BestBuy didn’t dissuade him from buying that piece of shit. I’m miserably pissed because he trusted the name “Toshiba” and they produced a piece of shit. And I’m just SO miserably beyond pissed at Microsoft for having produced an OS that’s basically their message to the world that they just don’t give a fuck any longer. Bill Gates… gone to the shitter. The whole ordeal weighed on my mind all through the day. – At “brunch”-time, I took a coffee break and… don’t ask why, but I just couldn’t bear to see the open jar of pasta sauce turn bad and have to be tossed… I made KETCHUP out of it! A little pickle vinegar and some sugar, mix well, pour into a ketchup bottle and… tah dah! And it worked! Quite delicious, I must add. – And then… it was back to the floors for another couple of hours. – As I worked on the floors, Ms. H. woke… with several impressive BANGS! She’s got NO respect at all! None! She knows that she can be heard quote well through the rest of the house, but she’s just another selfish little bitch who disregards all else but… HER. That put me back into the mind-set of wanting SO much to get the fuck out of this house even as I washed the floors. Then came the fact that, I’ll put this much effort into this place only to be ignored and disregarded and disrespected again anyway. The drive? Means nothing to the other 2. The floors? There’ll be wet boots tromping all over the house in no time. Scoured the oven? There’ll be burnt spills before too long. Just no concern. As I say, this was a miserable sort of day. Yet, the sky was as clear as could be, the sun, as bright as Winter will have it and the air, just crisp and fresh. All the makings for a most marvellous day… and yet, I just couldn’t shake the shit. – Then came the Town again… PLOWED the snow from the street RIGHT UP TO THE AND OF THE FRONT STOOP! it was SO close that I shot off an e-mail to Silas asking him to ask Don what we should do in the event the Town takes-out the front steps. It was sickening to watch. Just sickening! Not only because I work so fucking hard at keeping the snow cleared for the OTHER 2 in this house, but I try to make the front door and porch accessible to anybody who might need to come to the door, only to have this in-breed Town plow all the snow, and then some, right up to the the steps! Well, why not just come in, drag me out to the middle of the street and fuck me naked in the street-slush? Truly! – It all became just a bit too much for me, I think. I suddenly got SO over-taken with fatigue that I HAD no choice but to lie down for a nap. And so I did… That was the first of the 2 today. About an hour… and not restful at all. When I woke from that, I washed the floors up-stairs and, believe it or not, when that was done, it was time for another nap. This one was planned for no more than 45 minutes. It didn’t last even 30… Ms. H. was STOMPING about so loudly that I actually thought it was Silas in the house! Well… fuck that shit anyway. And what I woke to was even more amazing than the Town’s activities this morning! – Attached to a back-hoe was the widest plow I think I’ve ever seen in my entire life! This thing spanned the full width of the streets! AND… not only was the street being plowed… THEY PLOWED RIGHT UP TO THE LAWN ON FRONT OF THE HOUSE! OK. So it makes more room for future removal of snow-falls (many of which, I’m certain we’ll be getting as the season goes on… At this juncture, it doesn’t seem like it will ever stop!), but what didn’t get removed is now piled up to the out-side sill of the windows! The moron even plowed a HUGE pile ONTO the front yard across the street, right up to the house! Honestly? These “people” are truly, now proven… fucking RETARDS! SHAMELESS, THOUGHTLESS RETARDS! I can’t help but wonder if it has anything to do with the fact that there are such wonderful “laws” in NYC that prohibit shit like this from happening. And the longer I stay here in this “asylum State” the more I appreciate the laws of NYC and the brilliance and genius of the law-makers there. But to have such blatant disregard for the people, the tax-payers who provide these shits with their salaries? It’s just so perplexing! And the fact that the people allow this shit to happen. Well, this ain’t NYC and well… here I am, uncertain about what to do, if anything, about any of it. Today I also saw it as an extension of what happens right here in this house. And that didn’t do anything to lighten my mood. – Just a piss-poor day. – The floors done, and me in NO mood to go out and RE-clear the front porch at any time today, I just went a bit of “surfing” on the Internet… I’ve gotten 3 calls from the “”Investigator” at the Public Defenders’ office in the past month. This morning came another. But I didn’t take the calls because I didn’t know who they were from. I found out on the Internet today and then… THEN… came the TERROR! WAS I BACK ON THE COURTS CALENDARS FOR SOMETHING AGAIN?!?!?!? And if so; WHAT FOR THIS TIME? So I checked 2 counties’ calendars: Criminal and Civil… Nothing about me on them. Still… I wonder what the fuck the guy wants. Probably the 50$ I have to pay for their “services”. Well, they’ll get it when I can afford it. If I’d had the money in the first place, I surely would have found another lawyer… a NEW YORK lawyer… to handle my case. Which is another thing that’s weighing heavily on my mind: I need to get busy and get MY law-suit into the courts… NOW!!!! I’m just so exhausted from all of this shit of late. Just so exhausted. – It was time for dinner… 17.00. 3 chicken patties with my new “ketchup” (which is quite delicious, I must add), followed by the remaining cheese cake (1 of 2 cakes in the house). And that brings us up to now… here… on Silas’ computer. – The heat is up to 65F for a while to take the chill out of the place before I head up to bed (again) (soon). I shot a little message off to Nancy on Twtr just before I started typing this. And, since I made it and forgot to drink it last night, I just finished the “Nighty Night” tea and will be making one more for when I go up to read. Hopefully they’ll put me OUT for the NIGHT and for the night, I won’t be disturbed by the stomper-bitch-from-Hell next door. – That said, this will get posted to the Journal immediately, I’ll go wash the few dishes in the sink, make my tea and be finished with this day. The forecast is for clear skies come the rest of the week and temperatures ABOVE freezing as the week progresses. Me? I’ll be taking that walk to Sutton this week. INDEED I WILL! I can’t WAIT to see the looks on the faces of Customs when I WALK up with my little shopping bags. Fuckasses… the lot of them. – By the way… the snow that got removed from the street today? It’s piled across the street, on the corner, on the church-yard. The pile towers higher than the street sign! Yessiree, we’ve had quite a bit of it so far… and this is only the beginning of January! Which brings to mind… the oil for the heat. I’ve resolved NOT to put ANY more into the tank until AT LEAST the double-digit date for this month! NO MATTER WHAT! Hopefully it won’t be TOO miserably freezing.

Tue.8.Jan: 18.45 Depressed. So terribly depressed. To be SO tragicly misunderstood, to be SO cruelly accused! And… AGAIN! I simply don’t know even what to think, let alone what to feel. And the e-mails and texts were backed-up with filthy accusatory and threatening voice messages! AGAIN! Silas is the reincarnation of my father; pushing and shoving me deeper into despair and I HAVE to believe he’s actually getting kicks out of it, that it’s premeditated and thoroughly intentional. Tonight I have no more strength to do anything against any of it. No strength at all. Tonight, a bottle of vodka sits beside the desk. A glass full sets beside me on the desk. Tonight, I contemplated death by alcohol poisoning. And THE ONLY thing stopping that is that I’d die here, SO close to HOME and NOT at HOME. NOBODY will take HOME from me! NOBODY! And I will NOT die out-side Québec! I simply will NOT! From the looks of the forecast this week, Nature is siding with me so that I can go HOME comfortably. Tonight, the notion of going HOME is the highest thought, the most comforting, even elating. It pulls my spirits up. It makes me smile. It makes me Happy. It gives me Peace. HOME. The embrace of the air. The comfort of the ground. Being surrounded by the Happiness, even in the most stressful of times there. Sure, there were arguments, disagreements, misunderstandings. But never piercing accusations, torturing threats, terrorising barrages of horrible lies! No matter what, the respect for the Heart and Humanity of another remained stead-fast… no matter what. Unlike… COMPLETELY unlike here, and now. – I don’t and can’t understand how and/or why Silas, of all people, can do these things… to me. It hurts so deeply that it makes me physically sick. And it puzzles me so. And, as it all happens, I just feel me falling so much deeper into Solitude… Alone-ness. – I’ve moved my art, my food, little additions to the house, into the room behind my door. No more packing. This time I’m simply going to walk away from it all with nothing more than the clothes on my body and only what I need to cross that “border” to HOME. No more packing. Once HOME, I’ll need none of this. And I surely don’t want to bring THIS to there. – The door is closed tonight. The house thermostat set at 55F. How odd; the number just struck me. I’d chosen that setting as the lowest possible with-out damaging the house. Indeed… the “lowest”. Indeed. – Well? It would seem I’m quite ready now. I’ve always rather enteryained the idea that in order to be “ready”, one needed to relinquish attachments to “things”. In order to be “truly ready”, one needs to sever attachments to “things” one acquired, accumulated. And tonight? I’m SO “Relieved”! There are no attachments. Just to put this room and house in order, which it just about is right now, and walk away. Walk out that door, walk North just up the road, and go HOME. – There’s no fighting, arguing, discussing, questioning, inquiring. I have no army, nor have I any cavalry. And tonight, the fuse was lit, cannon fired. I’m retreating, at a leisurely pace, back tp the adversary, not looking behind me. Momentarily the ammunition will make contact and this will all become a quickly forgotten, insignificant bit of a history that few will remember, and even then, for a short while. I will have been here. I will be gone. None of it will matter. Shot in the back, with-out a sound. – And I am very much at Peace with that. Very much at Peace. And Silas can be SO proud of his victory… so Very proud. – Done. I’m tired… SO VERY tired. – 19.38 another voice message: I will be up during the week. I will be slowly moving my things and furniture out. I will continue to pay rent, utilities, oil. I am not asking you to leave.
This is psychotic. And I have no desire to discuss, argue. It truly IS time to go HOME… Silas Burton is my “ticket”.

(ADDING THE REST)

Tue.8.Jan: 8.02 It was 23.30 last night, I’d been asleep… yes, asleep for almost 2 hours when I was rudely awakened by the rumbling down-stairs. Silas had come home. (Only just now have I learned exactly why…) So I went down to greet him as he rummaged throught fridge and cup-boards. Claimed he hadn’t eaten all day. If that’s true, his mommies should be ashamed. If it’s not true, he should be ashamed. Anyway, I suggested a pizza (3 in the freezer), he opted for cold cereal. OK. And we sat up for a bit. He’d come for the lap-top. He spoke about bringing the Toshiba back and gettong a better one. Said that he feels shitty because his father always gave him “2nd-hand gifts” and it hurt him, and that he feels he’s done the same to me. But then, and really very suddenly, his point changed and it became a matter of “You’re right… I really don’t have the money to be buying gifts now. But you know you have free reign on my computer fir all the time I’m not here. And for much less, I can get you a good head-set so you can use Skype for any tele-commuting jobs you get.” So… the lap-top goes away…period. – At 1.15, I went back up to bed, to read a bit more. I was SO groggy… perhaps from 2 “Nighty Night” teas… but at that moment, I was awake and contemplating an all-nighter. Instead, the few more pages of reading helped to lull the interrupted sleepiness back. Lights out at about 1.30. – This morning, I woke on my own, moments before the 4.30 alarm, refreshed. But as soon as I’d turned the alarm off? Dozed right back into sleep until 7.30! No trouble, that. I’ve no access to the computer this morning and the weather’s a bit on the drear. I’ll wait a bit to see how that goes. If it turns nice enough, early enough, today I’ll stroll to Sutton. Silas has to be at work at 14.00. I NEED to get BUSY on the ATTORNEY work!!! But the walk to Sutton might help my mood. It’s not good, again today. – Ms. H. went out at round 7.30 after her usual bang-slam fest. Trash. – Meanwhile, I’m back to iPod tapping and this morning I found the e-mails Silas sent yesterday:
“Well no actually – I’m going to save money on gas, so I won’t be up there at all this week. It will have to wait.
I know you’re trying to be funny, but honestly I don’t want to hear any more about how much of a piece of shit my gift to you was. I’ll take it back and be done with it and we won’t have to talk about it any more, I feel bad enough as is.”
and
“I’ll take it back wednesday.”
This morning, add to the original disappointment I felt when the lap-top proved to be shit, and the sadness I felt because of Silas’ disappointment… my own “hurt”: this morning I’m rather angry and annoyed… 60$ dinners, 500$ cameras, 300$ lap-top that got broken under the feet of a tantrum-throwing bastard, special dinners, drinks and night clubs… for tarts, whores, sluts and bits of “stuff”, most of which don’t speak TO him, some of which speak cruelly OF him (most often on the social media)… they HAVE their “gifts” even now; I get a brief “loaner gift”… my “thanks” for getting him on his feet when he was brought to tears with frustration and depression, and even now, wake before dawn and work at maintaining this place so it’s comfortable when he gets here, make sure there’s food here for him out of my monthly allotment… a “loaner”. Yup. Not happy. My day begins thus. Right then. Back in “my place” with a proverbial “black eye from the booted kick to the face”. Good-morning… and “Fuck me”… again. You’re welcome. – 8.41 Weather forecast is for sun and 4C. Nice day for a stroll. If there’s enough in the banque this morning, and the clouds break to sun… I NEED the walk… HOME today! – A check: account isn’t what I’d hoped it would be, chomage not posted. But enough to make the trip HOME worth the time. Now it’s all a matter of weather… Today (and days to follow)… mine. – 9.01 Another morning delight: Storage balance is zero, paid through January, next payment due 52$! not the 46$ I’ve paid AND the unit is “over-locked”! I’m over the morning “anger” and move on to SICK! – Wow… 10.54, I was sketching some note paper. The house was quite silent so I strolled down-stairs. I’m alone. There was no “Hello” last night, no “Good-bye” this morning. Put in my place… with a broad kick to the head. Simply not worth the effort, me. Right then.
**********
Sent at 16.52:
”If you were uncomfortable…”
HOW FUCKING FUCKING DARE YOU? REALLY! JUST HOW SHIT-FUCKIBG DARE YOU? YOU’RE FUCKING “hurt”? You know FUCK-ALL SHIT about how totally mother-fucking out of my mind AMAZED I’ve been that ANYBODY on fucking Earth would CARE THAT MUCH about ME to be THAT CONSIDERATE and KIND to me, to be THAT THOUGHTFUL of ME to think of giving a gift of such GREAT worth!
“Complain” about the GIFT? Even YOU investigated into the troubles with the OS and confirmed, for yourself, the downfalls snd shortcomings. The fucking Internet is proof-beyond-doubt that it causes disappointments and troubles. And YOU learned that on YOUR OWN AND confirmed as much when we talked about it! “Complain” about the GIFT? MY FUCKING JESUS FUCKING CHRIST ALL FUCKING MIGHTY! How you turn shit round to suit YOU! NOT ONCE did I EVER “complain about the gift”! NOT once! I NEVER insinuated such a thing!
Your second message:
“So with that ill get my money back and you don’t have to say another fucking word to me since that’s what you intend.”
Again, HOW SHIT-FUCK MOTHER-FUCKING FUCK DARE YOU FUCKING PUT THAT ON ME? JUST WHO OR WHAT THE BLOODY BOWEL-FUCK DO YOU THINK YOU ARE? All you hounded on last night while you were at YOUR house was how badly YOU felt about giving a gift that reminded you of the “second-rate” and “hand-me-down” gifts your father gave you and how your intentions caused so much trouble. You didn’t hear, because YOU didn’t want to hear ANYTHING positive, grareful and thankful I said. And NOW YOU PUT THIS SHIT-PACKING RAM-FUCK ACCUSATION ON ME? YOU FUCKING VERMONTER! You’re EXACTLY the SAME as the ones who FUCKED the last 6 monrhs of my life!
You have NO FUCKING idea WHAT I’ve been feeling since ladt night! You didn’t ask, you didn’t listen, you didn’t hear. No. Easier to assume, conclude, and pass sentance of “Unfirgivably GUILTY”… and all in the silence of your own twisted mind. AND do it when you LEAVE YOUR house and are ALONE on the road some-where where I’m not around to speak for NY self! How VERY convenient, coniving, contriving, cowardly. Shoot ‘im in the back and SWEAR it was HE who incited the situation… AGAIN!
So what now Silas?
ANOTHER “Order of Protection”?
ANOTHER “Leave me and my shit alone”?
ANOTHER “Don’t fucking talk to me”?
ANOTHER “We can’t live in the same house”?
ANOTHER “I don’t know what you’re going to do”?
WHAT, SILAS? What have you got left after ANOTHER base-less, unfounded, PURE EVIL accusation concocted in your own little mind?
I’ll save you some time: With all the sincerity of the certainty of my Mother’s death, you WIN! Now I sit here just waiting for the Sheriff and/or the State Police and/or Border Patrol to come to take me out of the house. THAT’s what I anticipate Silas. But, YOUR house is in perfect, clean order… including YOUR room. YOUR drive and front walk are cleared of snow so that YOU and YOUR friend can come and go in comfort… just as has ALWAYS been the case for as long as I’ve been here. So… send your best shot. You WILL shoot me in the back. Just like before, and before that… I’ll be sitting, quietly waiting for YOUR bullet in my back.
NOTE: I DON’T NOW HAVE NOR HAVE I EVER HAD MALICE WHERE YOU ARE CONCERNED. So when you record this message, be certain to record it ALL… this statement included.
I don’t kbow about how much you feel like YOUR father, but I can certainly tell you that you’re a hair’s-breath short of being EXACTLY like MY father was and how he treated me.
Where this goes from here is none of my business. Your house will continue to be maintained as it has been all along while I’m here. It will be ready to welcome you every time you return to it, just as it always has been. If I’m here when you arrive, it will be my pleasure to be available to prepare things for you, as I have all along. And there will be Peace in your house as far as I am concerned. I am dropping this entire incident, mostly because I saw it coming and decided, when I told you initially, on the phone today, that I don’t want to hear or talk about it.
Bless you Silas Burton. Accuse me to your heart’s over-whelming content. In the year-plus that you’ve known me, you’ll have to admit, sooner or later, I’ve never been violent, never even retaliatory. Bless you.
**********
Tue.8.Jan: 18.45 Depressed. So terribly depressed. To be SO tragically misunderstood, to be SO cruelly accused! And… AGAIN! I simply don’t know even what to think, let alone what to feel. And the e-mails and texts were backed-up with filthy accusatory and threatening voice messages! AGAIN! Silas is the reincarnation of my father; pushing and shoving me deeper into despair and I HAVE to believe he’s actually getting kicks out of it, that it’s premeditated and thoroughly intentional. Tonight I have no more strength to do anything against any of it. No strength at all. Tonight, a bottle of vodka sits beside the desk. A glass full sets beside me on the desk. Tonight, I contemplated death by alcohol poisoning. And THE ONLY thing stopping that is that I’d die here, SO close to HOME and NOT at HOME. NOBODY will take HOME from me! NOBODY! And I will NOT die out-side Québec! I simply will NOT! From the looks of the forecast this week, Nature is siding with me so that I can go HOME comfortably. Tonight, the notion of going HOME is the highest thought, the most comforting, even elating. It pulls my spirits up. It makes me smile. It makes me Happy. It gives me Peace. HOME. The embrace of the air. The comfort of the ground. Being surrounded by the Happiness, even in the most stressful of times there. Sure, there were arguments, disagreements, misunderstandings. But never piercing accusations, torturing threats, terrorising barrages of horrible lies! No matter what, the respect for the Heart and Humanity of another remained stead-fast… no matter what. Unlike… COMPLETELY unlike here, and now. – I don’t and can’t understand how and/or why Silas, of all people, can do these things… to me. It hurts so deeply that it makes me physically sick. And it puzzles me so. And, as it all happens, I just feel me falling so much deeper into Solitude… Alone-ness. – I’ve moved my art, my food, little additions to the house, into the room behind my door. No more packing. This time I’m simply going to walk away from it all with nothing more than the clothes on my body and only what I need to cross that “border” to HOME. No more packing. Once HOME, I’ll need none of this. And I surely don’t want to bring THIS to there. – The door is closed tonight. The house thermostat set at 55F. How odd; the number just struck me. I’d chosen that setting as the lowest possible with-out damaging the house. Indeed… the “lowest”. Indeed. – Well? It would seem I’m quite ready now. I’ve always rather entertained the idea that in order to be “ready”, one needed to relinquish attachments to “things”. In order to be “truly ready”, one needs to sever attachments to “things” one acquired, accumulated. And tonight? I’m SO “Relieved”! There are no attachments. Just to put this room and house in order, which it just about is right now, and walk away. Walk out that door, walk North just up the road, and go HOME. – There’s no fighting, arguing, discussing, questioning, enquiring. I have no army, nor have I any cavalry. And tonight, the fuse was lit, cannon fired. I’m retreating, at a leisurely pace, back to the adversary, not looking behind me. Momentarily the ammunition will make contact and this will all become a quickly forgotten, insignificant bit of a history that few will remember, and even then, for a short while. I will have been here. I will be gone. None of it will matter. Shot in the back, with-out a sound. – And I am very much at Peace with that. Very much at Peace. And Silas can be SO proud of his victory… so Very proud. – Done. I’m tired… SO VERY tired. – 19.38 another voice message: I will be up during the week. I will be slowly moving my things and furniture out. I will continue to pay rent, utilities, oil. I am not asking you to leave.
This is psychotic. And I have no desire to discuss, argue. It truly IS time to go HOME… Silas Burton is my “ticket”.
11.00(E-mail2SB)Wow…
No “Hello” last night.
No “Good-bye” this morning.
Well, at least I know my place.
Right then.
12.20(Txt Fm SB)”If you were uncomfortable with a gift you should have said so. Not complained about the gift. (P) But being treated like shit because I gave you something? I’m not even angry. I’m hurt. And I didn’t go out to buy you a toy, I went out to buy you something to use in your life for your life.”
12.22(Txt Fm SB)”So with that ill get my money back and you don’t have to say another fucking word to me since that’s what you intend. Thanks Jude.”
12.54(E-mailFmSB)I’m not going to sit here and gripe and stress and cry worried that you’re pissed at me.
I’m calling out with Teddy and driving back home and we’re going to talk about this.
See you soon.
16.45 (E-mail2SB)Re: Your text messages today
“If you were uncomfortable…”
HOW FUCKING FUCKING DARE YOU? REALLY! JUST HOW SHIT-FUCKIBG DARE YOU? YOU’RE FUCKING “hurt”? You know FUCK-ALL SHIT about how totally mother-fucking out of my mind AMAZED I’ve been that ANYBODY on fucking Earth would CARE THAT MUCH about ME to be THAT CONSIDERATE and KIND to me, to be THAT THOUGHTFUL of ME to think of giving a gift of such GREAT worth!
“Complain” about the GIFT? Even YOU investigated into the troubles with the OS and confirmed, for yourself, the downfalls snd shortcomings. The fucking Internet is proof-beyond-doubt that it causes disappointments and troubles. And YOU learned that on YOUR OWN AND confirmed as much when we talked about it! “Complain” about the GIFT? MY FUCKING JESUS FUCKING CHRIST ALL FUCKING MIGHTY! How you turn shit round to suit YOU! NOT ONCE did I EVER “complain about the gift”! NOT once! I NEVER insinuated such a thing!
Your second message:
“So with that ill get my money back and you don’t have to say another fucking word to me since that’s what you intend.”
Again, HOW SHIT-FUCK MOTHER-FUCKING FUCK DARE YOU FUCKING PUT THAT ON ME? JUST WHO OR WHAT THE BLOODY BOWEL-FUCK DO YOU THINK YOU ARE? All you hounded on last night while you were at YOUR house was how badly YOU felt about giving a gift that reminded you of the “second-rate” and “hand-me-down” gifts your father gave you and how your intentions caused so much trouble. You didn’t hear, because YOU didn’t want to hear ANYTHING positive, grareful and thankful I said. And NOW YOU PUT THIS SHIT-PACKING RAM-FUCK ACCUSATION ON ME? YOU FUCKING VERMONTER! You’re EXACTLY the SAME as the ones who FUCKED the last 6 monrhs of my life!
You have NO FUCKING idea WHAT I’ve been feeling since ladt night! You didn’t ask, you didn’t listen, you didn’t hear. No. Easier to assume, conclude, and pass sentance of “Unfirgivably GUILTY”… and all in the silence of your own twisted mind. AND do it when you LEAVE YOUR house and are ALONE on the road some-where where I’m not around to speak for NY self! How VERY convenient, coniving, contriving, cowardly. Shoot ‘im in the back and SWEAR it was HE who incited the situation… AGAIN!
So what now Silas?
ANOTHER “Order of Protection”?
ANOTHER “Leave me and my shit alone”?
ANOTHER “Don’t fucking talk to me”?
ANOTHER “We can’t live in the same house”?
ANOTHER “I don’t know what you’re going to do”?
WHAT, SILAS? What have you got left after ANOTHER base-less, unfounded, PURE EVIL accusation concocted in your own little mind?
I’ll save you some time: With all the sincerity of the certainty of my Mother’s death, you WIN! Now I sit here just waiting for the Sheriff and/or the State Police and/or Border Patrol to come to take me out of the house. THAT’s what I anticipate Silas. But, YOUR house is in perfect, clean order… including YOUR room. YOUR drive and front walk are cleared of snow so that YOU and YOUR friend can come and go in comfort… just as has ALWAYS been the case for as long as I’ve been here. So… send your best shot. You WILL shoot me in the back. Just like before, and before that… I’ll be sitting, quietly waiting for YOUR bullet in my back.
NOTE: I DON’T NOW HAVE NOR HAVE I EVER HAD MALICE WHERE YOU ARE CONCERNED. So when you record this message, be certain to record it ALL… this statement included.
I don’t kbow about how much you feel like YOUR father, but I can certainly tell you that you’re a hair’s-breath short of being EXACTLY like MY father was and how he treated me.
Where this goes from here is none of my business. Your house will continue to be maintained as it has been all along while I’m here. It will be ready to welcome you every time you return to it, just as it always has been. If I’m here when you arrive, it will be my pleasure to be available to prepare things for you, as I have all along. And there will be Peace in your house as far as I am concerned. I am dropping this entire incident, mostly because I saw it coming and decided, when I told you initially, on the phone today, that I don’t want to hear or talk about it.
Bless you Silas Burton. Accuse me to your heart’s over-whelming content. In the year-plus that you’ve known me, you’ll have to admit, sooner or later, I’ve never been violent, never even retaliatory. Bless you.
17.02(E-mailFmSB) Wow. This is done.
And no, no order of protection, no sheriff. Nothing. I’m done.
22.15(E-mail2SB)Yeah. Me too. You’re a complete fuck up incapable of knowing Honest Love. No wonder you’re still single at your age. No wonder at all. You live to destroy anybody who might be stupid enough to actually LOVE you! Crack baby! That’s what you are. HATEFUL crack baby! Just PURE DISTILLED HATE determined to DESTROY! Congrats! Add another notch to your pistol handle.
20.41(Txt 2SB) “Emergency Calls Only” 2 nite. Suggest you read emails… In order sent. I’m sorry, sad. But still Love you SO VERY MUCH.”
(Honestly, I have no idea why I want to include this, why I want to remember ANY of it, why I want to remember ANYTHING that happened through-out this day. Today was, in all Honesty, Truth and Fact, nothing but actually experiencing “HELL”! There are voice messages from today as well. He rang to talk about what-ever and all I wanted to do was get this house together, clean, neat, orderly, and head out the door… I wanted… no… I NEEDED to go HOME! Once there, if I decided NOT to return to this god-forsaken shit pile of the US, it would happen. If I decided that THIS was THE DAY to stay where I felt comfort, solace, PEACE, I’d stay, find that place some-where off in woods, trees, what-ever, and just… STAY! No fan-fare, no more bull-shit! I just couldn’t be anywhere but HOME today. One voice message from SB said that he was “keeping the house and continuing to pay the bills but he’d be here to slowly remove his furniture and such. “I’m not asking you to leave. I’ll keep paying the bills until September.” I thought, that’s fine, and here I’ll be, in someone else’s house and home, alone, stuck, doing what-ever until… What the fuck did I care? I didn’t. I don’t. When I got the message saying that he was coming up because he wanted to “talk” I rang back, got him on the line and simply said “Don’t call out and don’t bother to come up. I’m getting ready to go to Sutton and won’t be here when you get here.” I just HAD to go HOME! It didn’t happen though. I’d be damned if I was going to be stuck out in the rains that were coming, to be out there in the cold. Fuck me! I’ve put up with more of that shit over the course of my life, like the days of sitting at the beach in Brighton, rain and sleet pouring from the skies, alone, wind blowing every which way. Or shivering in the back of the car in the woods. Waking up under the tree, wet from the night dew and sitting on the beach at Tilden waiting for the sun to rise, to dry and warm me. All this shit that nobody on earth has ever known… perhaps until now. And today? Now? I WILL NOT TORTURE ME ANY LONGER! Certainly NOT for the sake of making ANYBODY ELSE’S LIFE EASIER! But when the day came to an end and I was still here, in the house, I felt I owed Nancy something, some kind of word, something along the lines of “closure”. I’m in no state of mind to “talk” with any-one any more. So, the Twtr thing seemed the way to communicate. Cowardly of me, I admit. But I owed Nancy some kind of word and I was – and always will be – certain that, left to SB, the entire Truth would be turned round, turned into something hideous against me. And that was NOT going to happen… I’ve had more than enough of that shit thrown on me and if I was to leave this shit-thing called “Life” I was NOT and WILL NOT allow that to happen… EVER AGAIN! – There’s a chronology to the following, but I really don’t have the capacity to give a shit about the details of it all. The gist of the situation is here… Let it be as it is. I don’t give a fuck any longer. – During the course of the day, -since I’m putting all of this together 2 days after the fact and still, today, I don’t really care much about it, this, anything for that matter, I’m not putting it all in neat order, just putting it- I decided that, if I was to be here alone from now on, I needed only MY room and nothing more. Let the rest of this house ROT! So, all the little things I’d done to make this a “home”, and oddly, not so much for me as for Silas, were coming back to ME! The art-work I’d hung in the living-room went back up-stairs, on the walls in MY room! MY art-work, MY room! The food in the cup-boards that I’d gotten, that we were to share, came right back up-stairs. Silas once said that it bothered him, that I kept a “stash” of food in the room. “You’re STILL IN THE SHELTER! LOOK! You even keep your food here, like you kept food in your locker in the shelter!” Well, I’m BACK in the Shelter. It was just dumbfuck stupid of me to ever come out of the Shelter! Especially to be abused the way I’ve been beaten down and abused, particularly in the past year here! Now, this room is all I have… and even then, temporarily. So, this is it! MY Life, MY space, MINE! It’s ALL I have left of 57 years of existence. My own family fucked me out of everything before this moment. There’s more art-work, clothes and some other items in a storage room in NYC, but today? TODAY? Well, I recall having heard and read some-where that the “end” comes to us, the Peace of finality, when we learn to let go of our attachment to the “things” we acquire over the course of a life-time. Those “things” are not coming with us when we leave this Earth and so, we need to let go of the stupidity of them. TODAY, THAT VERY THING HAPPENED: I LET GO! I’m NOT going to get those things back anymore. They’re GONE! I can’t get to NYC to get them. And now, even if I did, there’s no place to put them, save in this room… and this room will be gone in a matter of months. So? Rather than make the trip to NYC to get that stuff, only to bring hit here and have it brainlessly thrown into the garbage, just as my “family” did before, better to leave it all right where it is and let complete strangers sort through it and throw it, just like my entire life, to the trash. I just don’t bloodyfucking give a shit any more! I just CAN’T! And so… )
21.06:
(FLA) HEY! You! Yeah you with the monkey hat…..dont you dare smile……I sent u text AND email fyi
(NYC)I;m tired Nanc. Really Really REALLY TIRED! Opening the NYC8532966 Journal. Just wrapping up. Tired.
(FLA) oh honey I know…….I am so sorry its so hard :-( I CARE so very much about u Remember that ok?
(NYC) I’m really sorry Nancy. I know you care. And it means the World to me. But I’m tired of this. Just so fucking tired of…
(NYC) being prejudged and not being heard and not being understood, and just not being. Y’know?
(FLA) yes I do I truly do -It hurts, its horrible and its exhausting I dont understand why life can be so awful sometimes
(NYC) He’s moving his stuff out, leaving the house. Isn’t tossing me. But won’t listen. Fuck me Nanc! I’m tired!
(NYC) And HOME? A 10 minute walk. I can do that… even when I’m tired.
(FLA) dont know what to say except I love you
(NYC) ”Life: is not “awful”. But PEOPLE? That’s different altogether.
(NYC) I Love you too Nancy. I just can’t handle any more false and baseless accusations.
(FLA) yes some people are just human NOT humane SB must is off his rocker and then some
(NYC) 57 years of caring for and about others, trashed! I can’t handle this anymore. Please understand. I’m going HOME Happily.
(NYC) hooduh think SB would be my “ticket”? Well, fukmeshititall! That’s a shockeroo!
(FLA) not sure what to say once again except WAIT
(NYC) Y’know what Nanc? Let this be a lesson to my “Followers”: LEARN TO ACCEPT LOVE WHEN IT’S GIVEN TO YOU! SB just can’t.
(NYC) Maybe THAT’S the POINT of my birth. Maybe THIS is the point of my birth. To get out her & get THAT message out!
(FLA) I know he can’t He is f’d up beyond words But YOU STILL have so very much to give to this world I know you do!
(NYC) I don’t have the strength any more Nanc. I’m sorry if I disappoint. I’m just wasted. That’s all. But it’s been a good run!
(NYC)I think I made a hit in Peoria!
(NYC) I’m really sorry Nancy. I know you care. And it means the World to me. But I’m tired of this. Just so fucking tired of…
(NYC) being prejudged and not being heard and not being understood, and just not being. Y’know?
(FLA) yes I do I truly do -It hurts, its horrible and its exhausting I dont understand why life can be so awful sometimes
(NYC)Tonight I believe I sign off Twitter with thanks to all. Many years and many good people. I thank you all. Good-night.
(NYC) I;m tired Nanc. Really Really REALLY TIRED! Opening the NYC8532966 Journal. Just wrapping up. Tired.
(FLA) oh honey I know…….I am so sorry its so hard :-( I CARE so very much about u Remember that ok?
9:28 PM – 8 Janv, 13 ·
(NYC) ”Life: is not “awful”. But PEOPLE? That’s different altogether.
(FLA) yes some people are just human NOT humane SB must is off his rocker and then some
(NYC)I Love you too Nancy. I just can’t handle any more false and baseless accusations.
(FLA) U have never disappointed me dear U R wonderfully odd &exuberant never dull always funny Whats not to like? F Peoria I need U!
(NYC)Please Nancy. Silas “needed” me. He’s doing very well now. Good job and all. I’m just really more tired than I’ve ever been.
(NYC)#Truth I’ve never been THIS “exhausted”. NEVER!
(NYC)It’s time. Good-night all. You’ve been a wonderful audience.
(FLA) ((((( hugs )))) wish I could give you real ones xx oo
9:58 PM – 8 Janv, 13
When this was done, when I’d typed and purged and had done with it all, I simply closed the computer and the lights, went up to my bed to pass out. I had my drinks enough to simply dull everything in my head and body. I needed to get sleep, I knew I needed to rest and it was later than I’d wanted to be awake. Shit! It was later than I’d wanted to be breathing! The house went dark, silent, empty. When I got up to my room, there were things I wanted to do before passing out on the cot. What those were, I can’t recall. I just wasn’t quite at the point where I could simply pass out… – I closed the door to the room, for the first time in a long while. I never wanted the door closed. It was too much like saying “Get out! Stay out!” But tonight, that was exactly what I wanted to say… Besides, rather than burn oil heating the entire house, I was to “live” in only one room so I put the thermostat down to 55F, closed my room, and heated with the small space heater. Tonight was about ME in MY LITTLE SPACE IN CREATION. – I don’t know what time it was when the knock came to my door. But all I could say at that moment was a bitter and completely angry “WHAT?” and I opened the door to see Silas just standing there, staring at me. I lost it… just lost my mind, in the truest sense. He handed me the Kanji art-work that I’d made for and given to him. And all I could do was calmly and quietly take it from him and with one smooth motion… SMASHED IT INTO THE FLOOR! THE FRAME AND GLASS SHATTERED! PIECES FLEW ALL OVER! AND I DIDN’T CARE! As he began to speak, I grabbed his sweat-shirt, pulled him as close as I could and all he said was “Go ahead. Do what-ever you want.” And all I wanted to do at that moment was exactly what I did: I grabbed him and held him as closely to me as I possibly could. My heart just broke, along with every emotion I had. And I hugged him with all that I had. I didn’t hate him. I couldn’t hate him. With all I had, I knew that the person I was hugging was ME! The person so UN-accustomed to having ANYBODY feeling ANYthing positive toward me and, being confronted with compassion and Love, not knowing what to do about it, with it, not being able to understand it, not being able to assimilate it. I am 57 years old and still that way. Here, he’s only 31 and in the very same place, the very same emotional turmoil. It wasn’t fair to HIM! And I couldn’t just stand here and allow this to happen to another person who is so sensitive and so in need of nothing more than basic, Human compassion! I just couldn’t allow this any longer! It had been done to me all my life. It was NOT going to happen to someone else. I was NOT going to enable Creation to fuck another life! I was NOT! If any one was to be throttled, beaten as brutally as I’ve been, it would be my “father”. Unfortunately for me, that miserable piece of shit is now dead and buried some-where and the chance to purge my Hate on the source is now impossible. But all that Hate for him turned to Love for this poor young man standing in front of me and I just HAD to purge that at that moment. This psychotic behaviour of his isn’t his fault and he isn’t to be blamed for it. When tortured so deeply over such a long period of time, THIS is the result! HE isn’t to be Hated for it… the people who brutally molested him emotionally and psychologically are the ones who TRULY need to be punished and beaten and tormented. And this is what went through my body. All I wanted to do is UN-do the shit that has been done to him. I can’t. I know this. No more than I can UN-do it to my own self. But I’ll be DAMNED if I’m to become a part of those efforts meted against him! I will NOT! If I’m to be remembered at all, I will be remembered as probably the ONE person in his life-time who actually CARED… and deeply-so, enough to hold him in a compassionate manner and TRY, with ALL, to pull the pain out of him. It’s all I could do. It was ALL I COULD do. And he cried. – We stood there that way for a while until he pulled away from me and said that we needed to clean up the broken glass “I don’t want you walking around here bare-foot and getting this in your feet.” I didn’t care about that, but we went down-stairs for the broom. He started to sweep. I told him to leave it alone, that it gives me something to do in the time when I’m here alone. I made light of it and diverted attention. We went back down-stairs. He was hungry and I wanted to make certain that he ate. – Well… as the night went on, I threw a pizza in the oven and we went to his room to calmly talk about the events of the day. He admitted that it was wrong of him to communicate via text and such. We’d been through this all before and he should have just gone about the business of the day and let it be at that. I told him that I KNEW it was coming to this and that’s why, when he called, I’d simply said that I didn’t want to hear about any of it and that he should simply go, return the lap-top and get his money back for it. I KNEW that, if I’d allowed, it would come to the arguing and fighting and that I didn’t want to allow that again. We talked… about the day, about his past, about all the hurt he has inside. And we cried a bit… and we laughed a bit… and the pizza burnt in the oven! So? Another pizza went in and he ate. – It got very late into the morning. I had another vodka, finished it and finally said that I was going to get some sleep and that he should do the same since he had to be up in the morning to get to work. – What had been a torturous day had finally come to a close and it did so, in Peace. We’d come through another “episode”. Ah, but in the course of our talking, he told me that yes, he was going to move his things out of the house, maintain the expenses, but he was going to leave me his bed/futon so that I could sleep on something better than the cot I have. He was going to leave me the chair so that I could have something comfortable to sit and relax on. Yes, as I know all too well… his reactions aren’t truly against ME… these are the residuals of unimaginable abuse, heartless attacks, disgusting terror and torture from people who do not deserve to exist, who should never have been conceived, should never have been allowed to have been born and who assuredly should never have been allowed to procreate. His responses, his reactions are the direct result of having experienced the TRUEST FORM OF HELL!!! and I KNOW this because… HIS past is MY past. But again I say: I will NOT be a part of continuing that shit! I can’t go back and stop what has already happened. But I CAN at least give my efforts toward thwarting any continuation of the damage. And I CAN hope and try to heal some of the bleeding, festering wounds that have been inflicted. Even as I said to Silas tonight: I can’t take it all away, and I feel such a failure for it, but I CAN make the moment better. It’s not enough to make me feel any less a failure, but I try. – I tucked him into bed, gave a caring sort of “parental” good-night kiss, put out the lights and went up to my room. I left the door open this time. – Wasted. That’s all I can use to describe how I feel at the end of this day. Empty and wasted. Void. Null. Abysmal. Non-existent. Drained. Finished. An incompetent failure.

Wed.9.Jan: 22.38 The snow on the roof is melting. The streets are simply wet. “January thaw”? Perhaps. Saturday’s forecast is for 7C. But the only month in recorded history that never had snow in this State is August. – Seeing Silas here this morning was a delight. I only hope that he comes to know that the things I told him last night are all Truth. And I hope he comes to accept those Truths. – Just as he left, I hugged him, and re-assured him that I meant every word. I told him: You’re my Friend, Companion, my child… and then started to sway with him still in my arms and began singing, a bit out of tune “You’re my ev’rything and ev’rything is you..”. He left with a laugh. Bless him. – And this day went about in a down-turn. I got the floors cleaned. Yes, again. But no matter. I’d wanted to get to Sutton, but the weather turned so I went back to bed for 2 hours. This morning, god-awful rectal pain! Sharp! No explanation. That, and some-how, yesterday’s depression seems to be rather like the “Grand Mal”. It’s lingering, in spite of all resolution of last night. Just “being” feels as if I’m completely enveloped in a gauze-like shroud… a shroud. And I can’t get out of it. Something in my mind has gone terribly “wrong”. No music today. Mostly just silence. No interest in music, or anything of sny sort of “joy”. Yesterday’s depression snapped something and all I feel is this drifting softly and silently away. Yes, I’m aware of it yet, nothing stops it. And after a day of trying, I’ve drifted softly into apathy about it. It’s here and it feels as if it’s just going to suffocate all Life out of me… and I no longer care. – Got to the cellar tonight. Only just less than half tank of oil. Doing well with it. But February’s coming, and, no doubt, bitter days. I continue to be frugal. – No Twtr, e-mail, text today. No interest in any of it at all. I just don’t want to be “bothered”. – 2 wash-loads tonight, done and folded. And a few more episodes of “Waiting For God”. – And now, ar 23.00, in bed for a bit of reading as the winds kick-up loudly and snow continues to melt. A front coming in? Hopefully Saturday will permit the hike into Sutton. I lok forward to being on “HOME soil”… SOON! And in my present mind… staying. – I’ve decided to put further Journal pages in “draft” to record and not publish. I’m just drifting away… and I’m not doing a thing to counter it.

Thu.10.Jan: 7.00 I woke this morning, with-out the alarm, at 6.30. The eaves of the roof hang lower even more-so this morning, heavy with the shifting snows, dripping with the melt. It’s as if the Winter is being murdered. The house is dead silent, save for the low droning of the heat being thrust through the floor registres. And the shroud remains wrapped round me, filtering the reality of all that is not “me”. This depression is a taker. And I sit at the desk-top, trying to recapture the moments of 2 days ago. Why? I don’t know. I don’t really want to hold the events. Or, maybe by tossing them here, on this Journal, I’ll be able to get rid of them. I can only hope so… but truth is, I don’t care. No, the truth is, I just, some-how, don’t have the desire to rid myself of them. And the spiral continues this morning.

Fri.11.Jan: (On Saturday at 9.22 for reasons to be made obvious…) Well then! The morning began just as my mornings should, and since this was Friday, before the night sky became sullied with the first indications of a sun-rise, I was up and out with garbage and recyclables placed dutifully at the end of the drive, on the LAWN that’s now beginning to re-appear, thanks in most part, to the fact that the temperatures have risen to just above the freezing point. Meanwhile, the snow on the roof is still hanging precariously over the eaves, icicles melting, water flowing steadily down. If what’s hanging off the edge was to come down ON some-one, I’m sure it would mean certain death. But for now, every time I look out my window, I’m amazed by it. It makes me rather sad though, to see Winter being tortured this way. Ah, but these days, it takes precious little to make me “sad”. I’m breathing nothing more than Depression lately, teetering, like the snow on the roof, waiting helplessly to let go and just drop, crashing into the ground… to be dead and have done with it. – Came in from the task, had coffee and watched a few more episodes of “Vicar Of Dibley” which is my only diversion from this utterly disgusting, so-called “reality” I exist in, until I just HAD to slip off for the briefest nap. And it was very brief this morning. – Nap done, I returned down-stairs to check through the e-mails, to see if there was any word at all about anything and, THIS morning the Executioners began to arrive. Today was the first:

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
* * * * * * * * * * * * *
Mr…:

Thanks for your detailed submission. We see a lot of misery in our profession, and it never ceases to trouble me. I sincerely hope that you are at some point able to put all of this behind you, whether through perseverance, or a physical move, or through some other method.

With regard to the viability of your legal claims, unfortunately the simple answer is not good. As you state it, it is factually accurate that you inadvertently left with a minor amount of money that was not yours. The report of theft/embezzlement was made before you could straighten it all out.

With regard to the defamation claim, truth is an absolute defense. The report was of missing money, which was true. With regard to the employment claim, Vermont is an at-will employment state. Meaning that a boss can fire a worker for any reason or no reason at all, as long as it is not an impermissible reason (such as for one’s gender or race). Accordingly, you can be fired for taking the money, even if it was completely inadvertent. As I tell people constantly, you can be fired from McDonald’s by a manager who is in a bad mood, even if you did absolutely nothing wrong. Does not feel fair, but that is the law.

Please understand that this is just one lawyer’s opinion. You should feel free to try and see what other firms might say. Sorry I could not be of more help.

Yours truly,
* * * * * * * * * * * * *
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

SO! There we have it: the insipid BITCH will, UNDER THE LAW of this Sanity-forsaken State, simply ruin my ENTIRE Life-time, destroy my ENTIRE dossier, decimate my ANY remnants of simple pleasures in this world and go skipping merrily through HER miserable existence as if this entire incident never presented even so much as a slight bump along her path of “being”. If I didn’t unadulteratedly DESPISE, DETEST, LOATHE AND ABHOR this State before this morning, I most certainly do as of RIGHT NOW! Simultaneously, a “Reality” set-in and gnawed its way into my gut: All those silly, petty little “well-wishers” and “jolly doo-fucks” on the Social Media who daily, if not hourly tout all their own latest and greatest deeds for Humanity, allegedly selflessly, of course, by bringing 99-cent socks to the Homeless, or sitting on their shit-encrusted arse-holes, toss off a typed note of “How we love you and you’ll be just fine” with a “I feel your pain and send support with hugs” are, in great fact, utterly useless when anything of substance comes their way. For a total of 16 months, I diverted my own energies toward helping even a rather few truly Homeless and some-what Hopeless bloques get back on their feet, kept THEM from the despair that sucked me under and into some miserable abyss, helped them find and maintain shelter from the elements, gave and strengthened their courage to defy the societal attempts at belittling and destroying them, learned from personal experience how to get them to move on and move out of the misery that is Homelessness and joblessness… THEN I came HERE and, for MONTHS, did the very same for some-one else… listening to tales of WOE IS ME, comforted, encouraged, and, as far as I know for some, made Life more tolerable. (F. let her Grief Counsellor go and even told me that she believed she’d never laugh again… and yet, there she was, laughing. S. had no job, no prospects, spending his way into demise, desperate for some kind of companionship and now, begins a career job in 4 days, stays, rent-free amongst relative affluence, and has another place, fully maintained, in the “rurals” of New England… This is making me sick!) BUT!!! When *I* ask for nothing more than information, referral, reference, nothing physically challenging, nothing financial, taking no food from tables, no space in a house, nothing more than a bit of substantial data? I am the grand recipient of… well… NOTHING! I can’t even claim to receive “shit” because I don’t even get THAT MUCH! What I SEE is “Oh tough turds there old boy. Hard knocks. But you’re strong and stoic and we’ll see you later on the up-swing. Sending smiles and hugs your way. Call us when things turn better. Really must get back to self-aggrandising here. Terribly busy you know. Hard work, this maintaining MY image of Altruist.” OK! Well, call it what you may, today, like so many preceding days of late, just snapped yet another synapse in the old brain matter, severed yet another desire to do ANYTHING for ANYBODY ELSE, other than ME, ME, ME! I read that message and could actually and physically FEEL “ME” being brutally sucked INTO “ME” and out of the rest of all that surrounds me. Might sound melo-dramatic, might even sound like over-reaction, but this is how I can describe it and this is how it actually is. I’m leaving “Life”, leaving “the World”, just “leaving”. It’s not so much a physical, visible departure. But I’m really and actually aware of that essence people refer to as “Spirit”, “Soul”, “Energy”, that bit that my Mum, Bless her, gave and gave and gave until finally, she too had nothing left to keep her own self going and died. I should have been “gone” almost 3 years ago now. Well? Today, this morning, I believe I DID “leave”. And if not then, I did this morning. These days I know, too well, EXACTLY what the expression “FUCK YOU!” means. I can hear Pookie saying it, in her very special, unique fashion. I always said “When people say ‘Fuck you!’ it just sounds vulgar. But when YOU, Dear Pookie, say it, it takes on a deeper, omnipotent meaning… It rolls like thunder, vibrates into the guts and bowels, and it’s truly painful!” Well, today I’ve learned HOW she got to be able to do that with a simple 2-word expression and now I too can say it with just as much GUSTO and determined emotion. It no longer has any carnal or sensational value. It no longer has any physical pleasure associated with it. Nope. Now it’s a matter more of undesirable and undesired, painfully and brutally inflicted TORTURE upon the person and the SOUL of some-one ELSE! And it’s meted with all intent, to inflict PAIN and SUFFERING, DEGRADATION and HUMILIATION. To put it plainly, simply, honestly and concisely: As of this morning… I PROUDLY HAVE NO SOUL! And, un-like times before this, I’M RELIEVED! I get to sit here, alone, tossed aside, disregarded, available “at will” (as has been quoted to me so often of late) and then disposed of, equally “at will”. I’ve always been right where I was left, waiting to be of service, to be available, to help in any way I could (even beyond my own capabilities at times), quiet, demure, always minding décorum. But today? FUCK IT ALL! TODAY? IT ENDS! Obviously there is no-one whose “feelings” I need to consider, save my own. Obviously, there’s no-one who actually gives a shit about what *I* am going through, how *I* am suffering, how *I* have been hurt and what little something *I* actually need. Not ONE simple fuckall shit! Today, it came crashing in: SO FUCKING OBVIOUS! Well then… now it’s MY turn to tie somebody to a stake, physically splay somebody ELSE and rip somebody ELSE in the same fashion that I’ve had done to me. I’ll leave this fuckall-shit-for-nothing existence, hopefully soon enough, AND I will leave AVENGED! thankful for NOTHING at all! – I could just go on for pages about this, but that wouldn’t be all fair to the way the day went and closed because today, on my own, on my two legs, BY MYSELF, with NO “help” from one fuckall wasted soul but my own… I WENT HOME for a most WONDERFUL DAY!

(New paragraph to put space between the two entries because the previous shouldn’t, in any way, touch these words that follow.)

Another coffee, another episode of “Vicar” and that was the end of it. A few dishes left in the sink, I decided that *I* wanted to get HOME today. I’d sent a few e-mails asking Silas if he was coming up to the house at any time over the week-end, hoping that we might spend a bit of time together, just relaxing and browsing through a few shop(pe)s and such, perhaps stopping for a tea, bite to eat, something low-key but generally “fun”. I don’t have much money these days, but I was willing to put aside my own considerations and spend a bit on a “friend”. Well, not one of those e-mails got a reply… how terribly typical. But that didn’t discourage me. Not in the least. Off I went, to shower and dress. The weather forecast light rains for after 17.00 and temperatures just above freezing. The temperatures, low as they might be, are actually rather “balmy” now, and perfect for walking distances. final quick check on the weather and the distance between here in the gloom of “Depression and Despondence” and the Peace and Joy of HOME: 16km… not too bad! I figured I should be able to cover each way in about 2 hours, and the time would just sail by… and most of it would be me, ON HOME SOIL! How WONDERFUL! And… if my body couldn’t take the strain at this point? Who really gives a shit? Heart attack or any debilitating occurrence would take place on HOME SOIL! If need be, I could simply veer off the road, into a nice little pine-stand or meadow, dig myself in and, at last, STAY HOME! for EVER! If I DID manage to make the trip through, well then, how WONDERFUL to spend time with BRILLIANT people who have never promised me anything, have always treated me with kindness, respect and dignity all too simply because that is how THEY, themselves wish to be treated. How MARVELOUS to spend time with people who are intelligent, who can communicate in at least TWO languages and LIVE TWO cultures! How REFRESHING to escape from this monotony here, even for a few hours!!! – Just before noon, I was (over)dressed and out the door. The day’s walking adventure had begun! To the banque for a few bucks (OK, a “few” more than I can actually afford but, since I’m on my own now, the money is my own now and *I* will do with it as *I* damned-well please and *I* damned-well please to take it the fuck out of this bloodfuck country and put it where it will be appreciated… HOME!) and at precisely 12.30, I was crossing the Missisquoi on the Richford bridge and “en route”! The sky was heavy grey, the temperature was just delightful, the air only just moved a bit, not even enough to be called a “breeze”. And I was truly “over-dressed” for a walk… several layers and the Connecticut boots. Oh well.. – As I walked past the US Customs building, a “guard” (so to speak) came out of the building and stared at me. I looked toward him, waiting for some snide remark to be made and wasn’t too disappointed when he called “Are you walking to Canada?” In no mood and knowing he had nothing at all on me, I kindly replied “No. Only as far as Québec.” knowing full-well he’d NEVER understand the fact or nuance of what I’d said. “Where are you starting from ?” he called. “Richford.” I politely replied. “How far are you going?” he followed, in a more “intriqued” tone than interrogational. “Just to Sutton. I have some shopping to do and it’s closer than Enosburgh, oddly enough.” “That’s still a long walk.” “Worth every step of the way. I’m originally from NYC and we’re walkers.” And I simply continued. – At les Douanes, M. Champagne (true, that is his name), wasn’t only a delight to chat with, but as expeditious as could possibly be. Yes, I’m STILL under scrutiny (thanks to that piece of useless nothing in Shelburne), but true to form, Canada comes through and the records show that all’s well. I sat for only brief moments in the little office and then, with a great and kindly smile from the wonderful M. Champagne, I was on the road, past the gate and ON THE SOIL OF HOME! The road just lay out before me. It was tremendous! As I passed the signs (in French) that Silas and I had passed a few times before and he delighted in, reading them with an English slant and me laughing because, well, it truly is funny, I stopped to take a couple of photos to send to him (both, as a reminder of good times and too, to prove that indeed, I actually was walking to Sutton today… alone… walking). I had no idea how long this trek was going to be, the only time constraint was to beat the impending rains, but there I was, not on the road TO HOME, but ON the road AT HOME! And I was just wonderful! (In spite of the fact that I’d already broken into sweat from the heat built-up under all those layers of sweat-shirts and jacket, and the boots were entirely TOO heavy for all this sort of walking.) – The strangest thought came to mind though, as I walked along, listening to the air, only the air, absorbing it through every possible means: French… it wasn’t a matter at all any longer. I’ve been SO alone for SO long now, hearing almost nothing but, thinking aloud in nothing but, that, once again, as in the days when I lived the language, it was no longer “foreign” to me. The signs read simply, easily. Nothing different about them. Nothing unique. They made perfect sense. No slight tensions about having to use the language. I was aware that my vocabulary wasn’t what it should be, but that I had more than enough to get my point across and could understand enough to continue a conversation. But the over-all sensation and realisation was… yes, in fact, I was HOME again! Comfortable on a road that I’d travelled only a few times, never alone and never on foot, but it was new and yet, some-how, it was mine and I belonged on it. The language and the geography were “mine”. I was… at HOME! And it was intensely MAGNIFICENT! And with this in my very core, I simply moved along, in bliss. – It did start to sprinkle, but only the slightest bit. I worried, only a little, about getting drenched and having no umbrella or protection against the rain. But that didn’t present too much concern. I was HOME and wet is something that happens when it rains. Nobody would look with dismay. If anything, I’d fit right in. Just as I had when it would rain in Montréal and we’d ALL get dampened… or soaked. Just a fact. Just… the “North”. – One thing that I DID actually HAVE to notice: Strangely, as I crossed past the sign “Bienvenue Sutton Welcome”, the air temperature dropped quite a bit! I’d walked into a “cold front” and oddly, it was at the border of the 2 towns! But the decrease in temperature was welcome at this point. I needed the cooling air and the Spirits of HOME were right there to oblige. Well, that’s how I saw it anyway. – Rather suddenly, out of the no-where that was the sparse bit of traffic that passed, a car pulled to the shoulder and a voice called out “Do you need a ride?” Well, I’d already passed completely through Abercorn and was I was only mere kilometres from Sutton centre, but the idea of making the trip a bit quicker was inviting. And… I was HOME, in a place where I could TRUST the kindness of people. With-out so much as a brief hesitation, I went to the passenger side of the car and there, inside, was a rather “worn” fellow, very thin, ragged and long beard, and an old but sweet dog in the back seat. The car was a bit of a mess, but all said, I was thankful for his appearance and his heart-felt kindness and I got in. “Glen” probably couldn’t be much in age difference from me, but time and the World had taken their toll. “I’m just going into town centre.” I told him. “Where are you coming from?” he asked. And when I told him, he said “That’s a long walk! I can’t go across the line for many years now.” I told him that I’d had the same experience of late, told him why (any opportunity at this point, to return the ‘favour’ of the Wretch of Shelburne). “Mine was drugs a few years back. Possession. They won’t let me cross the line any more. Probably for the rest of my life. But that’s OK.” I told him that the only thing about my confinement that bothered me was that I’d been stuck on the wrong side. He laughed. “I don’t have no use for anything over there anyway so they’re not really hurting me. I don’t want to go over there either.” He spoke with more and American English than Canadian. And, in spite of all else, he was intelligent and friendly and kind. We travelled along, chatting as if we’d known each-other all along. HOME. When we got into town, at about 14.45, he dropped me across from the Home Hardware store and said “When you go back, you put your thumb up. It’s a long walk.” I thanked him for the lift, he brushed it all off as if it was something that simply could be done, cost him nothing at all and so he did it and I was most welcome. As he drove off he waved. Just like two friends parting on the streets… of HOME. – In the store I must admit, I was a bit disappointed in the fact that here too, like so many little stores in the area, it was large enough to carry so much more but the aisles were wide and the shelves stocked with… well… nothing that I really wanted to get to bring back. Cleaners would have been nice, but I couldn’t very well carry the large containers all the way back. Still, it was SUCH A MOST WONDEFUL DELIGHT to hear the music (songs I knew and recognised from the radio in my room) and the conversations (in a language that said “Bienvenue chez vous mon cher.”). I simply browsed the merchandise, soaking it all in… soaking it all in… in Peace! – Sutton is no longer a new and strange town to me so, knowing where I was and where to get a few things, I headed down to the dépaneur for cigarettes… and 2 May Wests and a coke for nourishment that was, at this point, sorely needed. There, I got these items AND a small block of “P’tite Québec”! and today’s copy of “le Devoir”! I chatted, in 2 languages, with the kind woman at the cash about the currencies (I had only US and it’s on par these days). And we talked a bit about my travel today. She too marvelled a bit about my determination to WALK all the way. “We have people on bicycles who come in. But not people who walk.” she told me. As we chatted I noticed a small bag of “Curds”! and popped them into my order which included 2 packs of Belvedere cigarettes. When she’d rung it all up she asked if I wanted the receipt and then added “Maybe you better have this for when you cross.” She was right. Of course, by that time, I’d have eaten some of my purchase and the rest wasn’t enough to have to “declare” for duty. But, all the same… once again… CONSIDERATION! KINDNESS! CONCERN! HOME! – As I left there, I wasn’t quite ready to simply leave town, leave HOME, so I began to stroll, looking at the little shoppes along Principal when my eye caught le drapeau du Québec flying softly in the breeze on the office of… MAIRE! Town Hall. I simply walked in to inquire where I might purchase one in town. No trouble. No hesitation. I simply opened the door and walked in. There, in front of the desk, was a man, speaking with a rather plain woman standing on the opposite side. The were speaking… French… and my heart and soul warmed SO MUCH! When they’d finished, the woman addressed me “Bonjour. Hello.” and I replied with… the same. I asked, in Franglais, where I might be able to purchase a drapeau. Apologetically the kind woman told me that she really didn’t know because they ordered theirs from a company a few town away but… she thought of a couple of places in town that might carry them… SHE LOOKED UP THE TELEPHONE NUMBERS AND RANG 3 PLACES FOR ME AS I WAITED! When another woman came in, she asked her about the purchase and the woman replied, kindly “We don’t usually have many for the Winter. But in JUNE! Well, they’re all over for our celebration. It’s sort of like the American 4th of July for us.” When I spoke on “la Fête Nationale” she smiled warmly. The entire tone in the office went from “polite kindness” to down-right “neighbourly”! It was suggested that I try the HomeHardware store, but I said that I hadn’t found any there. (Truth was, I hadn’t even asked.) But they both said that once the Winter was done, they’d probably start carrying more locally. I thanked them, with heart and soul and left the office of the Mayor of Sutton as if I’d been there many times… for lunch, a drop-in visit… HOME. – Out-side, and still in no rush to leave, having no idea what was the time and not really caring too much at all, I popped across the street to a shop that carried ALL sorts of VERY HIGH PRICED cook-wares and glass-ware. I browsed a bit, almost bought a coffee press (but the had only one Bodum style and when I asked if they’d carry the style I like, the kind young woman said that they’d be ordering soon, but nothing would be coming in for at least another month. Oh well, I told her not to worry, that I was close by anyway and that I’d be in town as frequently as possible and would certainly come back to check when I’m in. She gave me a card and said that if it would be more convenient, I could phone before coming in. (Consideration!) Again, I thanked her and went back out to the street… and back up to the HomeHardware store where THIS time, I ASKED about the flag. The kind woman there actually went to look for me, showed me a stack of Canada flags, apologised for not having Québec and directed a man of about my age to help me if I wanted to order one. (Oh, as she looked through the stock, she mentioned the size of the flags they had… how funny when I had to ask “36 by 70? Are we in metric?” and she quickly replied with a smile “Oh no… inches.” Of course, that’s what was printed on the package but in my head, I was metric! Yup, HOME. And how easily I simply slipped right back, not missing a beat, as if I’d been there all along over the years.) Now then, the fellow who helped me order (and yes, I certainly did order… a 3×6 FOOT flag. I WILL HAVE MY BED-SPREAD COVER AGAIN! AGAIN, I’LL SLEEP UNDER MY FLAG OF MY HOME!) asked for my name and when I told him that it was more a nick-name and gave him my birth name… he repeated it… IN HEBREW! HEBREW in Québec! When I told him I was rather tempted to ask “Ata medebehr ivrit?” he promptly replied “Ken…” and we both rather laughed a bit. When I said “As it’s said… hooduh thunk it? Hebrew… in SUTTON!” he laughed a bit and told me that he’d attended Hebrew school as a child and that he was originally from Montréal! When we got into the chat about Montréal and my old neighbourhood and such he rather sadly asked “Have you been back in, let’s say, the past 2 years?” Ah… it was a thorn in both our hearts… graffiti, crime, violence, filth, the crumbling infrastructure… the politics. And, once again, I was HOME, right where I belonged! He placed the order for the flag, told me it would be in Thursday, un-packed Friday, took my telephone number but said it was rather un-likely anybody would ring because it’s “long distance” (a term I didn’t think existed any more). But I could call the store to be sure it was in before coming all the way back up. HEY! I certainly was planning on going back anyway. No trouble at all! When we parted, we bade each-other “bon week-end” and i was back out on the streets of town. – No rush to get on the road and wanting to get something to bring back from the trip other than a pack of cigarettes, I adventured a bit more into a store that I wasn’t sure was a pharmacy but, as it turned out, actually IS. Into Brunet to browse and to pick up Nivea shower gel at a reasonable price and in scents not available in this hell-hole country in which I “reside”. Ah… Canada… OH QUÉBEC! I needed laundry soap as well so got la Parisienne, but there wasn’t a single bottle of Javex! Clorox, yes. Javex, no. Alas. But I really couldn’t have carried that jug anyway at this point. But I did get the tea-lights I needed and wanted and a bottle of cedar oil for the house. And, with that bit of booty, I was on the road to return to… fucking miserable Hell, VT. – It was already about 16.00 by now. My only real “concern”, and even then, that didn’t much matter, was crossing the bloody border in the dark and how that was to be handled by the Nazi guard at the US Customs. Still… as I say, it wasn’t all that much of a concern. What WAS a concern was that my right foot was beginning to blister and this was not a convenient time in the journey for this considering there are no busses and, to the best of my knowledge, no taxis that I could take to the border. I’d be on it all, on my own and blisters, as I KNOW ALL TOO WELL, can be a torture when walking is the only means of travel. BUT… I was HOME and if it got to be so bad that I couldn’t possibly walk any part of the journey, I was fully and completely prepared to simply toss off the main road, find a nice little stand of pines, burrow in for the night if need be and, if it all came down to it and I happened to freeze over-night? A complete non-issue. I was on the “right” side of the border now. There’s no reason to go back to the US. No reason at all! I was perfectly fine… at HOME. And so, I opened a May West and the Coke and started on my way… no intention of “putting out a thumb” for a lift. I’d get to where I was going when I got there. Meanwhile, I was in the comforting bosom of my HOME. – The walk went rather well, all told. The last couple of kilometres were a bit on the uncomfortable and painful side and the fact that I was favouring the right foot only made my legs ache the more. Two or 3 times I really didn’t think I was going to actually make the whole trip this evening and had to stop walking for a moment to stretch my stiffening legs and hips and take the pace off my feet. But, I just continued on, in no rush, no hurry, no pressure. The sun set, the sky darkened, the air chilled and the night set in… a Québec night. I thought: How odd, to be on a strange road, alone, at night, here, and yet, no fear, no strangeness to any of it. Again, it was as if I’d been on that road MANY times before, had walked this route so often that by now, it was routine. It was SO comfortable in fact, that I didn’t question it, just enjoyed the walk, the black silhouettes of the trees against the dark white of the snow and the mostly still quiet, disturbed only seldom by a passing car or truck (neither of which I solicited for a ride). It was and I was at Peace. – (Today, Saturday, as I journal this, I can’t help but wonder: Why was it all so “familiar” when the only times I’d ever been on that road, in that area, were in the car with Silas… one trip to Montréal in early Septembre and 2 brief trips to Sutton, again, in the car. And yet, not once was it ever “un-known” or strange in any manner. Why? I wonder… I thought of Holly Bradshaw and how, sitting at Ben’s that night in Montrél, YEARS ago, with Brad, she seriously said “Somehow, when you came here, you left your Soul behind, didn’t take it back to the States with you. And every other time you’ve come, you come back to be re-united with it, to become ‘whole’ again. When you leave, it stays here and waits for you to come back. And you always will… come back. And it will always be here… waiting for you. You HAVE to come back here, to become ‘whole’ again.” If there’s any truth at all to any of that, if she spoke because she actually KNEW, it’s rather interesting: My Soul isn’t just in Montréal, though even Silas noted, that night we went to Montréal, that my entire Being changed, for the much better, so much so that he HAD to comment on it, so he said, but maybe, just maybe, it’s the entire Province! Because there is no strangeness, even there, in a place I’d never been before in my entire life! Maybe there IS something to it… that that place truly IS… HOME! And that THERE is where I ultimately MUST be… for what-ever reason.) – Well, as is the “norm” for me over the years, the closer I got to the border, the more sour my mood became. I prepped my-self for the eventual interrogation of the US Gestapo. Walking along in the darkness and silence, I prepared to answer the personal questions, but tonight, I was in a state of mind where I was all ready to simply let the interrogator have what-for! I had NOTHING at all to lose by simply and plainly looking him or her straight in the eye and asking “WHY is it that when I come across this border, a border that I personally do no accept, save for the fact that I appreciate the ‘guard’ coming North, that they protect the wonderful nation on the northern side from the invasion of the savages of the US, THEY welcome me with a “Bonjour” and a “Bienvenue” BUT, when I’m coming back to a ‘nation’ in which I was involuntarily born, YOU people treat me like a piece of alien shit, an invading Hun whose mere presence is greatly resented inconvenience to you? Why it that? Does it make you feel more secure about your-self? Does it increase the size and stamina of your penis and testicles? Does it make you more a ‘MAN’ or a more powerful ‘WOMAN’? as the case may be?” And tonight I was prepared to say “I’ve seen and experienced your ‘power’ and ‘authority’ first-hand because I lived in New York City on the 11th Septembre 2001 and I’ve borne witness to the impotence and incompetence of your ‘Homeland Security’ and how YOU ALLOWED, if not WELCOMED true Terrorists into this country to MURDER, in coldest blood, THOUSANDS of purely innocent people and DESTROY entire livelihoods and LIVES, either directly or as a result of your stupidity and bull-shit worthlessness. Besides which, YOU are Government employees who are being paid through the involuntary taxes paid by the true WORKERS in this fuck-for-all shit so-called ‘nation’ and I happen to be one of those whose labours resulted in being raped by your ‘boss’.I still pay taxes, which pay your salaries. Therefore, *I* am your employer, YOU are MY employee and I will NOT have you addresse me in ANY manner of disrespect, considering your utter failure at protecting the people you were hired to protect on 11 Septembre 2001. Had *I* performed MY tasks in that manner, I would have been held accountable for murder and nothing less, and the matter would have been addressed accordingly. But YOU have gone free and *I* will NEVER accept that. So let’s just make this quick AND you WILL make it polite and respect ME!” These are the lines that reeled through my head as I approached the lights of the border… As always, the HATE for coming “back” into the US welled-up. – As I approached the Canadian office, which, of course, came first in this direction, I entertained the notion of stopping in and politely thanking all there for a most WONDERFUL day. But, sensibilities considered, I didn’t. Instead, I simply strolled past the barricade and directly to the US office where, sure enough, a be-draggled “officer” came out of his little glass box (unlike the Canadian side where their fellows are sheltered in rather charming and comfortable surroundings) to meet me. “How long have you been in Canada, Sir?” he addressed me at once, with-out even the slightest trace of kindness. “Since about 12.30.” “And what was the purpose of your visit?” “A little bit of shopping for some house-hold needs.” I handed him my passport. “Where do you live, Sir?” “In Richford.” “Do you have a Vermont driver’s license?” (“WELL!” I thought, “WHAT THE FUCK IS IT TO YOU AND WHAT THE FUCK WOULD YOU DO IF I HADN’T?” But I kept this to my-self, wanting to chat with him absolutely no more than was absolutely necessary.) I simply handed him the license and waited. He asked what I’d bought, I handed him the receipts and opened my back-pack where I’d put my few purchases. “Long walk to Sutton.” he said with only a bit of a trace of something that ever so slightly resembled “Human-ness”. “Did you walk ALL the way?” “Yes.” “Didn’t thumb a ride?” “No, in spite of the fact that it was suggested to me in Sutton.” “Long walk.” and his face ALMOST rather softened. “Well, I did it and made it and now I just want to get off my blistering feet. These Chinese boots are useless for long treks.” He actually smiled and said “Thank you, Sir. Have a good night.” and I was, unfortunately, back in the USofA on the old Vermont back-road, walking past the empty corn-fields and back into the “dead” town. – As I approached the house from the front street, the snow on the roof looked like quilt batting, the windows were all dark, the house… empty. I brought in the recycling bin and left Hilary’s there, off to the side. I came in, removed the boots, took off the jackets and such and put on my little house-slipper/boot liners. Ah… blister! Had to go up-stairs for the soup I’d planned to make for “meal” and it was rather painful. But all told, it didn’t matter. it was all well worth the discomfort. I had been HOME today! ALONE! And the “ALONE” bit dug deeper still into me! The bull-shit reality of this place pierced my Being. The anger and rage returned in pounding waves. Yes, I was back. Bitter, Hate-filled and Resentful as ever. “Normal” for here. I heated the soup and 2 chicken patties in the microwave, watched a bit of the “Vicar”, then put the dishes into the sink, got my pajama-sweats and showering items together and went off to take a welcome hot, and commonly brief, shower. Tossed today’s clothing into the washer, because the sweat had made this necessary, added “la Parisienne”, turned on the machine and went about my business of… polishing off the remaining vodka. There was NO possible way I was going to face THIS night, A-FUCKING-LONE and sober! 3 new tea-lights from HOME were lit for the Shabbat and I drank to this one in particular because I’d seen it in, seen the sun-set of the day and the on-set of this Shabbat, on the soil of HOME. And I was thankful for that and the fact that now, I will be making that little journey more often, even if only to cross that stupid imaginary border, to stand on the land that is MY HOME! – As the washer washed, I went to the computer, mainly to check for word from Silas as to whether or not he’d be coming to the house on the week-end. Finding NOTHING from him only served to drive deeper the simple fact that, even to him, I don’t matter at all. I could very well have died at HOME and it would make no difference. I could very well have been kept at the border, under some kind of fabricated arrest, and it would go completely un-noticed, make not one iota of a difference to anybody. But I don’t care any longer… I just don’t care at all any longer. Today, for some hours, I was “ME”, Kind, Loving, Caring, Compassionate, Considerate, Respectful and Respectable, quite Happy, quite Content, most Human and Humane AND… most importantly? It was ALL reciprocated! I HAD that and I was holding to that, inside, alone, inside ME! The ME who I AM, in truth and fact. And I luxuriated in the further fact that there was no-one to trample any of it. Being alone now, I could remain that person and not have to share it with those who didn’t deserve ANY of it. – I popped off a bit on Twtr to let Nancy know that I was back on-line. I did the wash, waited for a reply. When it didn’t come, I stayed on Twtr with those who communicated with me. But tonight, I really didn’t care much for the NYC folk. I went to the “HOME” line and THERE! TONIGHT! the responses were utterly A JOY! The French went flying! The correspondences were rapid! And I was typing along… in FRENCH! My language has returned! And I was sheerly DELIGHTED! MY OWN PEOPLE! FROM THE HOME-LAND! – Well, in spite of the fact that it was truly a major effort to find a comfortable position, due to the stiffness of my hips and legs, the bit of pain from the blister on the foot, and the general pain of the torture I’d meted out on this old body, the night went into the early morning hours. It was almost 2.00 when I finally, and quote literally pulled my aching body from the chair, put out the lights and, one step at a time, brought my-self up to my room… alone… in silence…

Sat.12.Jan: (Continuing…) This morning, when I looked out the window at the snow clinging to the eaves of the house, I wanted so much to be able to look at it as I drifted to sleep and to see it in the day-light when I woke. I didn’t set the alarm, but I moved the cot so that I could look out the window at the snow. I lit a tea-light at bed-side… a tea-light from HOME and with that… sunk into a dead sleep. – I woke and got out of bed at about 8.30, not caring about the day, the time, the place, none of it. There was no reason to be concerned about any of that. And, unfortunately, I resented the very fact that I was awake at all. – Morning coffee and a check of the e-mails. – 12.45 E-mail from S.: “Out of funds” and “won’t be up” on the week-end. Imagine, here he comes into Vermont with a banque of 40.000,00$, blown away in just over a year! I almost wish I could have some sympathy. But that’s an entire annual INCOME for some people and he’s managed to piss it ALL away? On tarts, whores and bits of shit! No. I have no sympathy. Can’t. – Other-wise, it’s been a strange sort of day. My legs are so stiff, my feet, blistered. My stomach’s all off. Oh, and a HUGE bit of snow came CRASHING down from the roof! – Dishes remain in the sink. I don’t care. My room is a mess. I don’t care. It’s rather warm out. I don’t care. Hilary’s recycle bins are still out-side, there’s a parcel on the porch for her. And where they are, they will remain. – I’m down for a bit of a nap. S. asked me to Skype. I’m rather tired, and quite truthfully? Not much in the mood to see or to speak with him. Some-how, in my gut, I’ve a feeling it’s going to be a lot of whining about money. He mentioned that he’d just paid 300$ in bills. Well? Well. – 16.19 The snow from the roof has been CRASHING, with GREAT THUDS, through-out the day! THUNDERING POUNDINGS on the ground below, out-side the window of Silas’ room where I type. And as it hits the ground out-side the window, the house rumbles and vibrates. The sheer weight, the power of something so beautiful that falls so softly and silently, suddenly, over time, turns so potentially VIOLENT! How very much like my own Being these days. So VERY MUCH LIKE ME… these days. – When I went to nap today, the pressure in my chest was nothing short of astounding! Not a sharp pressure, located in one particular area, but generally over all my chest. As if something was wrapped round, constricting. It was uncomfortable and almost painful. I laid there, waiting to drift off into sleep, focusing on it and rather than trying to find a way to either avoid it or make it “better”, I thought of how to simply make it compress even harder, stifle the next heart-beat and simply lie there… dead… Today it doesn’t even matter if this all takes its toll and I actually go, right here, in this house. Today I’ve come to realise that in Death, I have no “border crossing”, no “guards” waiting to interrogate me. And I’m no longer concerned about where this old body drops… Yesterday’s adventure taught me: My SOUL is at HOME, where it belongs… and no matter what, HOME is where it will always be, not matter what the rest of this world does, and what the world does is of absolutely no consequence at all… not any longer. If I’m to sit here, waiting to drop dead, so be it. And I welcome it, more than I’ve ever welcomed anything ever before. – I will continue to pursue the matter of Dyan and her atrocities against me. Even if I can’t “win” this War, and “War” is exactly what it is, I WILL leave her with such a god-awful wound that she and all of “hers” will never recover from it. As I once wished for the curse on my own sister and 100 generations of hers, I wish, with every bit of the energy that is all of my Being, the same for Dyan and ALL who are even remotely associated with her… only this time… at least 100 times as much. – It is a draining day. – 17.05 It’s taken most of the day to journal the events of yesterday. The phone rang once as I was having a bit of something to eat before napping. The remaining stale bread, heated with egg, a bit of molasses added in the bowl. The phone was up-stairs and there was no way I could have even made it up there in time to answer, with these sore joints and feet. It was Silas. No message left. Not an issue. – The sun has set. It’s black out-side the window. The house is dark, empty, alone. It was a sunny day today and the snows kept falling from the roof. I spoke with no-one. There’s nothing to say to any-one. I have this Journal, I keep record of things that have happened. I record most simply for the sake of recording. Here, I don’t care whether anybody knows about these things. Here, I don’t have to listen to patronisingly disgusting remarks like “You’ll be fine.” and “It’ll all work out.” and that sort of shit. I KNOW that nobody wants to, nobody will do anything at all to be of any particular help. But the oddest thing is: Now, knowing that my existence means absolutely nothing to anything or anybody else in Creation is a comfort. Now that I’m aware of where I stand in the scheme of everything, having become aware of the extent to which others will go to help, having become accepting and comfortable with the fact that I’ve given, most often to my own detriment, and have, even in some minute way helped others over the entire course of my existence, and becoming harshly aware that, in the eyes and minds and hearts of others today, my existence doesn’t matter at all to any others, I’m good with that now. And from here, I can continue with what it is that I do to fill the time until the moment when… it’s done. I even realised today: The matter of the lap-top? In spite of all the chatter about wanting to “give something” that was needed and that will help me along, there’s no replacement. In spite of the chatter about the cost being just some more on a credit card that’s good only in an electronics store and won’t put food on the table, pay any of the necessities, there’s no replacement. So, that “gift” that caused so much darkness and depression? It was never meant to be in the first place. It never was a “gift”. It was simply something to relieve an impulse, for that specific moment. And that moment has passed. I’m not worth a “gift”. I’m good to keep this house maintained. I’m good to make certain there’s oil for heat, that the snow be removed to provide comfort and convenience to others, good to make certain that no damage comes to the place so to maintain good standing for Silas, since his name alone is on the lease and the property is his responsibility. None of any of this has any bearing on me at all. So, that said, I have no bearing on anything at all, provided I maintain the integrity of someone else. A”gift”? Oh HAH! How utterly insane! Yes, it’s a bit hurtful. But the truth and the fact still remain: I’m breaking down, have no “desire to thrive” as they put it in medical terms. So here I sit, doing what little things I’m able to do, deriving nothing more or less than self-satisfaction, going through the machinations of every moment of every day until the moment comes when it will be all over and finished. – But now? Now it’s time to do a few more activities to pass the time until I have to get back under the covers and avoid time by sleeping the time away, unconscious and un-aware. And now? At this particular juncture? I truly don’t care.

Sun.13.Jan: 1.56 Quite another wasted day runs out and becomes the next day. Insomnia strikes yet again. The house is quiet, save for an occasional thump up-stairs when Hilary’s cat jumps or what-ever it is he does up there when alone. And me? Devastated, to put it mildly. Devastated. I still can’t resolve the business that that miserable bitch will ultimately destroy my entire existence and get away with it. I can’t resolve the fact that the laws of this miserable State allow this sort of terror. I’m no longer certain if I want to pursue the matter further or simply give up. And giving up on it means nothing other than returning to NYC (which, when thought about, is probably the best move), do myself in there, in a Homeless Shelter, or to stay and do myself in here (or stumble across the border to HOME and have done with all of this there). Honestly? Nothing looks “good”. Nothing looks “hopeful”. And the amazing support that comes is nothing short of astounding. None. Just lip service from those who simply don’t and probably won’t bother to actually consider the severity of all of this. No job. No prospects. I can’t stay in this house much longer and contribute nothing. I can’t let Silas keep covering the expenses and not even be here. And I’m getting the impression that he doesn’t come back because he truly doesn’t want to be here. Perhaps because I’m here. I don’t know the facts, but being here alone gives a lot of time to think and this is all I can think about. – Contemplating staying awake all night, but that would serve no purpose. I’ve had my before bed tea. All I can do now is hope it takes when I get up-stairs to bed. And getting up there is going to be rough. The stairs, with blisters on the feet? A bit painful. I suppose I could sleep right here tonight. But that doesn’t some-how feel the right thing to do. So… – Sunday morning… morning of a another devastatingly miserable and hopeless day. – 22.35 A rather sort of interesting day, really. More lessons learned on the “easy disposal” of people. Well, for starters, it was still rather difficult to get around the house this morning when I woke at 5.30, the 6.50 and finally at 8.00 when I got out of bed. The blisters were still really giving me trouble, especially getting down the stairs. But I made it. Of course I did! I’m in the house alone! What in the fuck’s name of all Kriste ELSE would I do? I can be SO utterly stupid at times. ANYway… after first coffee, the second one came along and I HAD to get all the files together that I’d simply dumped all over the place when I (a) lost use of the desk-top when the lap-top came alone and (b) when I lost the lap-top (and little more will be said on THAT topic!). So I commandeered the desk-top this morning by 9.00 or so and began… and worked… and worked more on the “Re-Org”. It took me right up to about 17.00! Non-stop, save for 2 pee breaks and 3 tap-coffees. EIGHT HOURS! (And, believe it or not, I STILL have to get the LEGAL documents together! But I NEED to be rested and thinking some-what clearly for that, so I’ll wait until tomorrow morning… COFFEE!) – At 17.00, this little Disposable Idiot went out to the back yard. It was almost HOT out there today! Imagine? I pissed the entire WARM day away working on the computer! So typical! But this evening, I went out, with shovel, in sneakers and my “pajama-sweats” and… YAY ME AGAIN! The “mound” of wet, compacted snow is now GONE! It was about as big as a nice “compact” sized car! And WET! And COMPACTED! BUT… yes, it’s now GONE! Shovelled away, onto the lawn, where, during this week it will melt into the rest of the snows and soon? There will be MORE snow to be rid of. And WHY did I remove the mound? Honestly? Therapy… only therapy. It’s the ONLY reason I do ANYTHING round here anymore. I do mean, really, and truly: Just simply fuck the old codger. He’s just fine, alone in the house. He can get to where he needs to be. No problemme there! Just leave him be and he’ll be just fine. Really. Just simply fuck him as often and as hard and as painfully as is possible and then? Toddle off on a merry way. You see, little by little it’s all becoming ever so brilliantly clear as these days pass: It’s not worth the time or the effort to make a phone call. Not worth the time or the effort to check to see how things are going, if I need anything. Goodness me! Why bother? The old fuck’ll probably walk out the door sooner or later and just not come back. He doesn’t carry any identification to connect him to anything but a post office box and an addresse in… well… maybe Jericho… maybe New York City. So, anything happens to him and we’re all scott-free! YAY US! He doesn’t need to get to market to get food. Doesn’t have any errands to run oh, let’s say, in Burlington. And even if he did have to get to Burlington, he can certainly get up to catch the 4.30am bus into St. Albans, wait round for 3 hours until the “Link” comes in and catch that. And let’s face it, he doesn’t “work” at all, so spending the day in Burlington, waiting to the “Link” back to St. Albans isn’t anything to be concerned about. It’s not like he has anything at all to do other-wise. Oh… the 30 mile walk from St. Albans to the house? Oh well… it has nothing to do with any of us that the busses don’t connect BACK to the house in the evening. Besides, he walks to “Canada”! He can CERTAINLY handle the 30miles to the house! So, isn’t that just spiffy? Nothing to even think about. – As for the shovelling? HEY! All the wet, compacted snow? Only thing we need to be concerned about is if the old sunnuvabitch drops dead of a heart-attack in the yard in this heat! Other-wise, there’ll be more snow coming soon enough, the temperatures will drop and at least he won’t stink up the place… until the next thaw. We’ll think about it then. – OH! Did anybody think to say “Thanks” for the snow-shovelling? for the house-work? Are you kidding me? He’s practically indigent! Nothing to do ALL day but lounge about the place. It keeps him occupied! Besides, for the most part, he’s in that house alone. So he MUST be doing it just for himself anyway. Doesn’t matter to anybody else. Silas is comfy in Burlington. Hilary only JUST came in this evening from being away all week-end. And SHE certainly doesn’t NEED the drive shovelled or anything like that. So… it’s good exercise for him. Hurray. – And, well, the food supply is running quite low. There hasn’t been any milk in the house for almost a week now. I couldn’t bring any back from Sutton, along that walk and with that weight. But, really. Let’s be serious. Who the fuck honestly cares? Right? Certainly not me. I’ve been HOMELESS! I survived that and I can survive ANYTHING from now on! – PJ’s belongings will be gone to the “Dead Letter” office on the 22nd of this month… they’re in Jericho… no busses to Jericho. And well, I suppose I shouldn’t whine… After all, it’s only about 40 miles away. I should just try to get the Staller out of the garage and try to make the trip in that! If I had any sense, that’s what I would do! – All the while though, I keep thinking about how WONDERFULLY WELL DIANNE is doing with her life… now that she’s managed to utterly destroy mine. But again… that doesn’t mean anything to anybody else. Not their trouble. It would do me a WORLD of greatness only to receive a format for the papers that are needed to bring my own case against her into court. But even this morning came another reply from another attorney here in delightful Vermont: I never got paid for the 8-hours of work on the 29th July! Indeed, the statutes of the State clearly say that a person must be paid with-in 72 hours of termination of employment for what-ever reason (or no reason at all). BUT… now this TOO is MY trouble and MY problemme and the ONLY recourse is to get to a court house and bring Ms. Olsen into “Small Claims”! Isn’t THAT charming? And the court? In St. Albans of course. I could just sing and dance! – Being brutal, as I am known to be, this evening I would like to journal: It was a completely silent day… all day. I was rather looking ever so forward to some kind of communication with,oh… maybe Nancy or whom-ever. I kept busy, looking forward to a break this evening. But, oh well, what I DID get was an e-mail, brief and spastic, from Silas saying he has no idea when he’ll be back to the house next. Charming little fellow. Just like giving the “gift” of the lap-top, becoming incredible outraged when it didn’t meet expectations, PROMISING ever so sincerely that he was on his way to get a much better replacement because I deserve to have access to a computer of my own all the time and? And he got into the car, drove off with the lap-top which he returned and… The end. OH! And I got a brief “tweet” from Nancy who is exhausted and at about 20.00 was “pooped” from the day. Says she sent me a text during the day. I checked my phone. Unusually, I have service. I guess texts are being delivered by the Postal Service of late… and getting lost or something of the sort. – Oh well, no bother to me. I made certain that I’d gotten the house together in case Silas came along on this wonderfully warm and delightful week-end. And I made certain that I had nothing to do for a while, in the event I could communicate with Nancy for a bit this evening. I did well enough. That it didn’t turn out as hoped? WHY the fuck should I even THINK about such things? ME! ME? Of ALL people! Why shit! I can’t even get a simple bit of information, written, typed or spoken to help me along with the matters I’m dealing with. 57 years of being so frightfully concerned about all those around me, just like my Mum told me I should be, only to have every good moment destroyed to the point where now? I can’t… CANNOT get a simple little job to support myself. 123$/week for the next 19 weeks and it’s all gone. No more income. Oil needing to be order for the cold months to come. Food? Oh who the fuck needs THAT? I mean REALLY now! I truly CAN be so impossibly selfish! BUT… the great thing about all this is: I’m 57, soon to be 58 years of age. What, with the anxieties of all the bull-shit, the not eating, not sleeping and walking 20-25 miles in and out of Sutton, shovelling snow and such… having this lovely old house to simply lounge about at ALL hours of the day and night, un-disturbed… and for FREE yet! HOW can I BE SO damned selfish? Truly! _ Tonight, as with all nights, I close this with the very same prayer I pray each and every night: That I do NOT wake up when the sun rises on tomorrow. Just the way I pray as I walk the miles, shovel the heavy snows: That THIS will be THE one bit of ever-exertion that will shove the blade of Creation deep enough into my heart that it slices a nice, huge gash in it and it simply explodes in my chest and I fall to the ground and cease to “be”. And with that, I close with a simple… Amen.

Mon.14.January.2013 3.08am

It’s to be another night with-out sleep. Common. Usual. Not at all un-expected. In fact, this is the way it’s all become. I love this old house. It seems to know, to understand. It’s gone dead-quiet, quite dark and rather cold, in spite of the furnace running. Winter comes in and makes this its home now. Be-fitting, really. Quite be-fitting. It’s a place where Life draws out of a Soul, like an early morning fog drifts by, enshrouding all in a marrow-gripping chill that can’t be escaped… visible, palpable and inescapable. One sees it coming, knows full-well what it does, but surrenders to it, solely because there’s no-where to go, no means of avoiding it. One looks to find another in the mist, but all the world’s gone… disappeared in a massive, all-devouring grey. Calling out, all that can be heard is the dullness of a voice, absorbed in the darkness, becoming nothing more than a whisper… and then dying into silence… just silence. And all the while, the fog thickens and becomes heavier and heavier still, until finally, there’s nothing to be seen, nothing to be heard, and only the cold dampness penetrating deeper and deeper until the body becomes part of it, one with it, and all simply, calmly, silently drifts on and nothing is left in its wake. There is nothing, nothing at all to be done to avoid. No battle to be fought and won. In the reality, the realisation, there is only surrender.

“…sanity involves a certain measure of impersonation, … for the sake, first and foremost, of one’s own convictions.” ‘I don’t know if I can face this. You know. The party and the ceremony, and then the hour after that, and the hour after that.’ “… overtaken by a sensation of unbeing. There is no other word for it.” “There is a beauty in the world, though it’s harsher than we expect it to be.” “I remember thinking to myself: So this is the beginning of happiness, this is where it starts.” “We throw our parties; we abandon our families to live alone in Canada; we struggle to write books that do not change the world.” “But there are still the hours.. One & then another, & you get through that one & then, my god, there’s another. I’m so sick.” “…these hours will inevitably be followed by others, far darker and more difficult.” “The world, this world, feels suddenly stunned and stunted, far from everything.” “I want streets at night, wind and rain, no one wondering where I am.” “…a kiss at dusk on a patch of dead grass, and a walk around a pond as mosquitoes droned in the darkening air.” “… without playing any particular part beyond that of the willing observer.” “What does it mean to regret when you have no choice? It’s what you can bear. And there it is… It was death.” “We live our lives, do whatever we do, and then we sleep.” “Dead, we are revealed in our true dimensions, and they are surprisingly modest.” “I wanted to write about all the ways we might have died.” The Hours Michael Cunningham

“They are a disappointment you know… friends. It’s what they do, what they are meant to do, what they intend to do, always. We grow up being told, convinced rather, that they are there and will be there for our convenience, our aide in time of need, whether trite or over-whelming. But that’s not what it is, really. No. Not in the least bit. You see, it’s rather very much the converse: We are here for their convenience. It’s so that they can experience a sense of self-fulfillment, value, worth, a purpose for having been born and for being still alive. Much like family you see; parents aren’t particularly gifted with any special talent. They simply do what it is to ensure the continuation of their own self. They nurture only as much as is absolutely necessary to be certain of the survival of that which they have created, by no momentous talent or investment of any part of each, save a few organic bits that are produced for just that purpose anyway. How queer it is, when given thought, that the very surge of carnal pleasure involved with the creation of that bit of stuff, that infant child, that extension of one’s self is, in all probability, commensurate with the sense of self-satisfaction of witnessing the actuality of having succeeded in having propagated one’s self. That is how it is with family, and, as such, with friends… and perhaps spouses as well, as I think on it. We do not take friends into our lives. Rather, we rejoice in the having been “taken” into their lives. It’s all a matter of simple acquiescence. They are, with our surrender, afforded the opportunity to experience the pleasures awarded themselves when, having bestowed upon us some token of brotherly love or something of that sort, some “thing” or another, the base carnal pleasurable sensation that fills their being when accolades are out-pouring from those perceived as either peers or, in best circumstances, superiors. It’s much the same as being presented a Nobel Peace Prize for having produced the ultimate “world peace”: Not done for the sole purpose of simply having accomplished a task necessary to all, rather, to be able to stand, in the sight of all the world, and accept, no, take, some tangible bit of something that, when seen by all around, gives credence to the accomplishment. There is fame involved, the aggrandizement of the soul, the ego, if you will, and that is, essentially, the entire purpose of achieving world peace and, in a microcosmic sense, taking on and giving aide to a friend. It is particularity successful when the effort and investment in the entire affair is absolutely minimal, having little or no effect at all on one’s own being, causing absolutely no inconvenience what so ever. What has been done, or given, is of no real consequence, and, as easily as it was given, it can be removed. The other may or may not be devastated, but that’s not the issue, the point, the consideration. What is tantamount to all is that the giver has been made whole, that self has experienced a sense of value, worth and perhaps, some degree of omnipotence, of standing equal to and parallel with the gods. That is, for each and all intent and purpose, the very essence of friendship… what it does for and contributes to the self, not the other.”
[Clip: The Hours – “J’s” or, “Triangle” depending on when and who. When I saw this clip in the film, the memories of living on 14th Street and 9th Ave came crashing! I remember sitting at table in the early morning hours, 4.00/4.30am, having just wakened from the night’s sleep. I was having my morning coffee, enjoying the peace of NYC in that time between the ending of the night and the beginning of a new day and, from my window, I could watch the night revelers leaving the club across the street. “Ah…” I thought on many mornings, “here I sit with my coffee, waiting to greet the new day of business and productivity while there your are, poor fellows, looking toward crashing in to your bed and waking sometime in the evening… probably with a terrible hang-over.” – Memories. Just more memories. The building became some up-scale, tony she-she-chic “bistro”. The “MPD” went down the old shitter, just like the rest of my “home-town”, NYC. And, like every other “Real New Yorker”, I can’t even get “home-sick” for NYC simply because “OUR” NYC no longer exists. None of it. But there it was, this little “icon” of my happy days, on the screen, captured. Jane and Hudson. 14th and 9th. I out-lived it all, proving, incontrovertibly, there is no “justice” in existence.]

18.36 Two loaves of brown sugar and molasses bread and a zwiebelkuchen done. Imagine that: I baked today. Did something. Accomplished something… I suppose. But the kitchen is as neat as a pin, clean as a whistle already. And already, save for the breads, nothing was done in that room… nothing since it was built. – As for “business”? No. Not too much of that accomplished today. It was a rather fuckitall day in that respect. I don’t much give a shit, really. – I see minuses before the temperatures on Friday and Saturday. And snow. I’ve a need to be in Sutton by Saturday. Long walk in the snow and brisk North air… the snap of the Québec air. Québec snow. I’ll be walking in it, walking on the soils of HOME in the season I actually Love and am in Love with, in the place on this miserable Earth where my body and Soul will be together again. Winter… Québec… HOME. Alone. – Watched “The Hours” again this evening. Saw bits I’d missed last night. I have to almost marvel when I think back to the Summer, alone, walking along the shore of Lake Champlain, Shelburne Bay, and there, on the ground, on the path was the empty case for the DVD… “The Hours”. Imagine anybody in this State of retards even having the sense to pick up such a profound piece of work. The only real justification in it all is that the case was tossed on a dirt path, in a beautiful wooded area shaded by hemlocks, on the shores of one of the greatest lakes… in one of the most miserable land-fills on the planet… this… Vermont, this cesspool of bitter hatred, selfishness, disgusting refuse of all life forms, this dump, this pit, this unadulterated specimen cup packed solidly with the worst of any waste imaginable. “The Hours”. I wonder, tonight; some-where, on the bottom of that lake, in those waters that were once incredibly clean, clear and delightful, I wonder if in some little crag, amongst the aquatic plant-life, lying on a bed of silt, if there isn’t a coat… with stones in the pockets. No. Not here. Not in Vermont. That sort of sensibility couldn’t possibly exist here, save for the possibility that that coat belongs to some-one from another part of the world, a part of the world where intelligence and humanity are respected. But certainly not some-one from here… if, in any fact, there IS a coat… on the bottom of the lake. An e-mail from Silas today. A charming message from Silas today. He begins the new job in Shelburne tomorrow. Seems things are going very well for him now. New position, new post office. Imagine, even he admitted, once, that had I not encouraged him, helped him with his CV and cover lettre, accompanied him here, to Richford, he never would have gotten so far as the job he loved at the start and grew to hate here. Now he has TWO jobs, one of which he’s quite fond and the other that holds new adventures and new challenges and the potential for greater income and perhaps, even a career. Yes. I suppose that on the scales used by general man-kind, I’ve been quite the success when it comes to Silas. He’s doing unexpectedly very well today. And I think back to when his mommies told him that they expected him to fail, and when he did, they would “have to be there to pick up the pieces”. Indeed. Yes. I suppose that on those scales by which others measure the value and worth of a person, I’ve done very OK. And after all, isn’t that what it’s really all about? How we can help others? – He closes simply with: “Things will be differenter. you have my love, worried as fuck about you. I’ll be backs as soon as I am able.” He’s “worried about” me. Silly little git. If only he knew. If only anybody cared enough to find out. No. I’m just fine. Just fine. I’m actually quite over-joyed, all things considered. What he has today is what I wanted him to have from shortly after we’d first met. I’m most certainly not “in love with” him. But indeed, he is very dear to me, for some un-fathomable reason. A little bit like I was, maybe even at his age. But today, in this miserably strange place, he’s quite well. And that is what I’d hoped for him, and that is what he’s got. I’m fine. And kindly, I don’t see there’s anything more for me to do, honestly. “Accomplished”. That’s what I am… “Accomplished”. – Very tired again now. Will have a bit of tea, I think. Get on with the bits of “things” I feel I need to get together… more for the sake of “doing” than “need”. Things must be in order, and there are things that need to be done so that after the fact, everything will be in order… for me and for… – Maybe tonight I’ll actually get some sleep. That would be a welcome relief. Unconscious for a few hours, not thinking about anything. A welcome respite, for a while. That would be so nice, right about now… a private, little oblivion. – Silliest passing thought: I wonder if he knows about this Journal. Not that I particularly “care”. Just a silly, stupid little thought that passed, has been jotted, and will be completely gone… in a moment’s time.

Finally got to see that GREAT Israeli film “Yossi and Jagger” tonight! How I wish I could simply get a copy of it! Magnificent! And yet again it proves to me that not ALL “Gay” men MUST be some kind of fruit! Interesting though… of course, like all films about Gay couples, one HAD to die before the movie ended. We, as a species, still cannot progress to the point of simply accepting the fact that all that Biblical bull-shit is nothing more that collective brain-washing and that yes, it IS possible to have a relatively “Happy ever after”. Not that I ever expect to. Perhaps it’s self-fulfilling. Perhaps we, being part of that brain-washed collective, are forbidding our-selves of the honour and privilege simply because that’s what we expect. Still, the film brought heart-aches and the memories of Schmulik, how we were supposed to live “happily ever after” together in Israel. That, of course, never came to be. Yes, we’re still, today, in rather strained communication. He, in NYC… me here in this dung-heap. He is with Chris for many years now. They say they “care” about and for each-other, but there’s no “love” in the relationship. How little they each know. How fortunate they actually are to have each-other over these years. Times like these make me think that the distance between Schmulik and I is truly for the best. Who knows where we’d be today, had I stayed in NYC. I’d never wedge the two of them apart. And, at least right now, as back then in NYC, I couldn’t say that I’d even try for anything more in a relationship with him. But, it’s these trite things in our existence that give us pause for thought. How stupid. How utterly stupid. Things are as they are. That’s it. That’s the point… the whole. But the film is certainly worth seeing again, and I intend to. And I got two new bit’s of music from it… on the iPod… the gift from Schmulik… that he didn’t take back. Very un-like the “gifts” of recent times. At least I still have connections to civilised people… even in my Exile days – Just a passing mention here: e-mail from Nancy. One line sticks in my head: “…sounds like you are VERrrrrRRRy angry and I dont blame you one bit.” “Angry”? No. Certainly not. I can’t be sure what she read. Yes, there are entries where I was rather very much pissed off. And I’m truly happy that she understands and doesn’t “blame” me for it. But over-all, I have no “anger”. If anybody actually knew what I’m feeling these days… if anybody could actually understand. I’m not asking for empathy. Don’t deserve that. Don’t expect that. Don’t even hope for that. Don’t even entertain the notion of ever receiving that. I don’t want sympathy and I don’t want pity. It’s very dark where I am. And I’m fascinated… nobody tosses even a tiny little light, and then there are those who do their best to shove me deeper into this un-ending void. Bottom line is, and forgive me Rabbi Lewis, but I’d truly like to know… “Why”. But I know that “Why” is not the proper question to ask. I should be simply accepting the fact that this is where I am, these are the responses of those on whom I’ve been SO completely obtuse, so clinically brain-dead as to passingly think, in even fleeting moments, that maybe one, possibly two? just might come along to DO something to give a little bit of help. Oh well… as the kids say these days, “My bad.” SHAME on me! And indeed, it is.

Tue.15.Jan: 4.07 Happy Birthday Pookie. Kriste! I miss you! – And here I am, sitting in silence, alone, again. Is it fatigue or the actuality? But I’m chilled right through to the bone! But, oddly, not at all tired. I did get a couple of hours’ sleep on Monday morning. But here it is, Tuesday morning already… and it’s the hour when I should be waking up! Here we go again with the insomnia. There’s precious little that’s “pressing” business to be done today, so I don’t HAVE to be alert for much of anything. – Meanwhile, the phone, FlashDrive and music files are caught-up yet again. I still have to get to sorting the legal documents for DaysInn, have to check for the complete back-ups of all the other little Journals and, since I am completely on my own with this, I MUST find ALL the information I need to get this DaysInn shit into the courts and in front of judge and jury (in this shit-hole excuse for a “State”.) But for now… a respite from all of this computer shit. – OH! Before I forget… earlier, as I sat herein Silas’ room, I heard banging and crashing coming from the back porch! So I got up, went to the kitchen and threw on the back porch light. Something had gotten into the garbage barrel. I’d put the onion skins out tonight so they wouldn’t stink-up the kitchen. It’s not cold enough to freeze anything out on the porch, in the barrel and so, something had smelled the onions and wanted a free dinner. Well, there was nothing there when I looked so I snapped the lid on the barrel and returned to my projects. Moments later, the same noise. But this time I got to the light and the door on time to see… a raccoon, standing on its hind legs on the back porch… the thing HAS to be the size of a relatively average sized but rather large DOG! HUGE! A beautiful creature, I must say. Well-nourished and such. It was almost funny (imagine that… “funny”) how, when I turned on the light, it stood away from the garbage bin, up on its hind legs, front legs over the porch rail, facing away from the house, looking over the porch rail… It was almost as if it was thinking “Oh, I’m just here, taking in some fresh air. Oh my! Look at how much of the snow is gone and how well the neighbours next-door attend to their house. Gee, I wonder if WE shouldn’t put up some white siding here.” or something to that affect. As I un-locked the door so I could bring the barrel in, the big blubbery bundle of fur simply eased itself down to all fours and calmly walked away. They’re simply amazing creatures. What a shame I don’t really have enough in the house to share with it. I know hunger, and I too have eaten from garbage barrels. Maybe I’ll just start buying things that I can leave on the porch for it. Fuckall knows, I certainly don’t need much in the way of food. And I certainly don’t want much of anything in the form of “nourishment” either. And here’s this bit of Life, out there, existing pretty much the way I’ve existed at times in my term. True that… even to the being out in the elements and eating from garbage barrels. Imagine that. Maybe we, this raccoon and I, should stick together. It would, in all probability, prove a better companion. – The hours (The Hours) went by… I finally got to a point where I can now sit and take a bit of an “inventory of the day’s accomplishments so I treated my-self to another film… at this ridiculous hour of the morning. Started to watch “Eyes Wide Open”. I’m fascinated at what this Netflix is offering. Some truly good film! and then it happened: total exhaustion slammed into me. I’m trying to get a few more lines in here… don’t know why, exactly. There seems to be something internal pushing me to make certain that things are documented. Some sort of “force” pushing me along to make absolute certain that all things are always in order and contemporary. All I can think of right now is: After working all those years in Hospice, there was a rather commonly shared thought that all people know, some-how, that they are dying. This morning I wonder… is this part of that “knowing”? I’m truly just too exhausted to continue though. Let’s see what happens when I get up-stairs to my bed… cot. (Sometimes I think it rather stupid of me… there’s a perfectly useable bed… BED… right behind me as I sit here. Still… I MUST go to my COT!) – 10.51 Passed out at about 5.30. Jolted back awake at 10.46. Quite a bit of difficulty standing this morning. Head wants to go one way, body, the other. Can’t figure why. All I had all night was tea. The ulnar-compression thing is considerably worse this morning. Maybe I’m really not here at all. It’ll be great fun to see this say, later today or this evening. To see if I’ve actually typed it! Dunno really. It’s all just rather surreal at the moment. And oddly. I thought I’d done all the shovelling the other day pretty well. Seems not so. Blisters on my hand this morning. Rather painful too. Interesting, all. Well then, there’s serious work to get to today. Attorney General. Sorting all the duplicate documents I’ve managed to accumulate for the courts. And trying to find out just HOW THE FUCK to get this all into the courts… on my own, of course. – (11.46 As I type about Schmulik… up pops a tiny message… HE’S ON SKYPE! Of course he is… I look like total shit, feel like total shit and here he is! My Friend… my “Ex”… my past… my little “Light in this miserable shit-hole void”. – I have to get me together now, look presentable, get some cigarettes and get back on-line. I promised a 13.00 chat! Oh my!) 22.48 And I will be in bed ever so soon tonight. It’s been a bit of a harrowing day, crashing at almost dawn and waking only a few hours later. And this morning when I woke, it was amazingly difficult to simply get up. So, tonight, we force a “normal” schedule. – Just checked for e-mails. No phone all day. No e-mails. Only communication was with Motek! Rather interesting how, all these people who claim to be so supportive just suddenly disappear, particularly at a time when their support would be so appreciated. Well, it’s the same now as it ever was. I’m only mentioning it. Fukkemall. Seriously. – I DO have to say that seeing and talking with Motek was an honestly up-lifting experience. God! He looks so good these days. Good weight, good palour. He sounds good. Quite amazing. I only wish I knew the secret… or what-ever it is. Still, I just get thinner yet, do the heavy work. Makes no sense at all. But, there he is, looking well, sounding well. All said, it does my heart a LOT of good. There’s so much he could be suffering from. It gives me a bit of Peace knowing that he doesn’t. Yes, I’m sure there are “bad days”. But over-all, the impression I got was: He’s as good, if not better than could be expected. Blessed. And so am I, to have him still in my life. – I DID get quite a bit sorted out in the “litigation” notes today. It’s really rather amazing as I go through all the “Untitled” memos and such, just how much duplication I’ve been doing. Most of that was caused by not knowing what the hell I was doing in the first place. Then came the lap-top and that completely dumbass, fucked-up notion that I would have it to keep those records on, only to have it GO, which necessitated putting all the work onto 2 different Flash drives and, well… I did that in such a rush that it became the equivalent of a digital wind blowing across the room and papers flying every which way! There’s still SO much to get through and so little time to do it all in. Then comes the TRULY difficult part: Getting TO the courts and all the travelling that will follow. HOW? I simply don’t have any idea at the moment. But it will all settle… painfully I’m certain. But it will settle. And so will I. I’m still, admittedly, in true “shock” that that filthy cesspool of decomposed shit can pull this and get off to skip merrily on her own life. I’m also, quite admittedly, shocked at how I get absolutely NO help from anyone. This truly rather stuns me. It would take so little for someone to simply look up a few things, a lawyer, a process. I can’t believe that NOBODY knows a lawyer that they can confide in and pass along a little information. Yes, this is a lesson… well learned and never to be forgotten. – Haven’t hear word from Silas all day. It was his first on the new job. I thought I might get some sort of brief on the events of the day. Oh well… Why would I be so stupid as to even ponder the notion? Eh? – This all said and done, it’s time to get me together. I could use a shower, but not tonight. Why bother? Getting a bit of a tooth-ache but I think that’s from the hard crusted bread I had round dinner hour. And, of course, the Ulnar Nerve thing is truly and honestly SO bloody painful! I looked-up some info just now… a bit of NSAID and physical Tx and all could be well with that. I certainly hope so… there were light flurries of snow today (and then the sun shone nicely… just before it set,of course) so there will be more shovelling to come. I can’t afford to have any pains… or these blisters on my hands that I only just recently noticed… They’re from shovelling all that wet and compacted snow the other day. Honestly? Just falling apart. Oh well… the only one noticing is me… and that’s completely insignificant on all accounts. – Oh and I DID get to watch a few episodes of… RED DWARF! How wonderful it is to see that programme again! And tonight, I got a copy of the theme song to put on the iPod. Always thoroughly enjoyed the lyrics. Oddly, on the second installment, they actually came back to me! That was pretty amazing to me. It’s been YEARS! Now what I suppose I need to do is go buy some many bags of crisps and lots of beer… just like the old days. Force myself to eat a bag of crisps and drink a few beers each night before sleep. Hey! It worked to put on a LITTLE weight back then. Quite honestly though? When I give it more serious thought, I don’t want the extra body-weight. The more I waste the less there’ll be of me to absorb my BDM when the time comes… soon, very, very soon at this rate. Quick. Gone. Done. So I have no incentive to make me any bigger than I am right now. – Well… Time to be off to the cot… Tomorrow? May it never come… and if it does? May I NOT be any part of it. Amen.

Wed.16.Jan 7.34 THIS is the way and the hour a “day” should begin. I woke even before the 6.30 alarm, on my own, feeling rather refreshed. It was “lights out” at just round mid-night after a bit of reading. – House is tidy. Plants watered. And the research for the day is already under weigh. Indeed, the “day” has begun. In the clarity of mind this morning, the case will take a different direction. This bloodyfucking State refuses to defend the people who work here and pay taxes. Those bloodyfucking taxes pay the salaries of the very shit-holes who consciously choose to abandon their benefactors. Indeed, it speaks TOMES:
You WILL toil, INVOLUNTARILY pay taxes which will support US, and WE will give you NO support at all!
If or when you CEASE to toil AND pay taxes, then you become USELESS to us, and we will have NOTHING to do with and/or FOR you.
In other words: As far as the legislature of the State of Vermont is concerned, its tax-payers can simply sod-off, drop dead, fuck-off, go to Hell, generally ROT slowly to death.
Fine then! Vermont REFUSES to help its working class in ANY manner? Let’s just see how much Vermont will stand for the Civil Rights and Respect of its working class when that faction of its people are injured. Let’s see how much Vermont allows persons to attack when under the influence of drugs/medications. Let’s the see how intelligent this “State of Vermont” actually is. Let’s see just how close this “State of Vermont” actually IS to the ELITIST COMMUNISTIC NAZI State that, to-date, it has PROVEN itself to be. Let us see. – Odd, but this morning I recall how Liz insisted that I would do very well in this State, the it and I have so much in common. Well, this morning, as never before, I see JUST how little she thought of me. If THIS is how she perceived me to be, it is ALL INSULT! Something she excelled at in the years preceding my liberation from her presence. – Note du matin: In spite of the phone showing SOME reception service, it has been just about a week since the last call came through. I don’t know if anyone has tried to contact me, but I see that the 718 is going directly to e-mail notification. N. Troy must be connected to the cell. Hmm… Communication in Vermont: There is NONE… from beginning to end, no matter how one views it… this is a State of NON-Communication, in ALL respects. – On that note, and once again, with a morning that begins in a shower of BITTERNESS (NOT “anger”… though it will be perceived as such and I don’t give a jolly fukkall about “perceptions” of others who are intentionally clueless). “Motivation at any cost, for any reason.” SOMEBODY MUST BLEED! And I’m SO out of blood to give! – 17.38 And the day comes to a close. There was snow today. Flocons. But now there is snow on the ground… on the drive. The drive is not shovelled. There isn’t enough to shovel. But there is enough to be noticed. I don’t care. – It was a totally busy and involved day. More research. More laws that make no sense. In fact, the discover of today is that, in 1979, Vermont actually removed the statutes governing “Defamation”! So, for all intent and purpose, in the State of Vermont, one can defame one and all and simply not give a shit about it. Say what one will, true or not, makes no difference. Destroy somebody’s entire life and it makes no difference. Done. – I now work on this project, with as much vigour as always, more for the sake of “entertainment”. I am dead. Jobless. Hopeless. Nothing. Nothing at all. There’s no logic in this State. There’s nothing. I am nothing. – It’s now come to the point where I can simply amuse myself during waking hours, to pass the time until… just pass the time… for no reason other than… to pass the time until… – I received a message from a recommended attorney today. Refused. “Good luck”. I’ve a rather long list of more attorneys to contact. However… the phone’s stopped ringing through. It takes messages and informs me of them well enough. But when a call is supposed to come through… silence. Even the phone’s stopped giving a shit. I’d submitted, via Internet, some sort of form for another referral. The place rang. The phone didn’t. They left a message. I got it too late to ring back today. Tomorrow… tomorrow I’ll try to find a spot round this god-forsaken place to make the call and, in all likelihood, hear the same thing I’ve been reading “Oh, sorry. We can’t help you with that. Good luck.” Why don’t they simply say it the way it truly is: Good Fuck… Nice fucking with you… You’re fucked… Happy bleeding. – I thought of looking into a “land-line” for the house. It would only be for about a month or so. I’m not giving all of this… ALL of this… much more than that. No sense really. Why the fuck give it even that much time when it’s all thought about and done? No sense at all. But… what the fuck? With any sort of what-ever, on Saturday, I’ll have mon drapeau under which I will sleep at night (if and when I sleep again) and one day, I’ll simply wrap my useless carcass in it… for the duration. That’s really all I hold out for right now. Just that. Nothing more. – As I say, it was a day of furtive efforts on the legal front. All to no avail. I had a bit of bread with molasses for “meal” today. There’s no real food in the house. I have this week’s cheque chomage and some FoodStamps. But I don’t have the desire to do anything with any of it. Just rather to sit and wait… Eventually one of my little “nap-times” will extend on… – No words from Silas or anybody again today. I have to smile (and I actually do) when I think: These are MY dark days, MY oppressive times, and, as a matter of course, as is the “norm”, as it has been, is now and always will be: this is the time for complete silence and the cessation of communications. When the tables are turned, I’ve always been the one to “make-the-nice”, make the gesture, even when I had no interest or energy, to make “goodie-goodie” and offer an ear, a shoulder. Ah… but that’s not this situation now. Now is when it would be nice, comforting to read a correspondence, hear a supportive, helpful and informative voice. The house is silent. The streets are silent. The world is silent. (Save for the racket coming from up-stairs with the banging on the ceilings, the thump-and-thud.) – Which reminds: Seems Hilary has gotten her-self a new vehicle! How great for her. Doesn’t matter to me one way or the other. She has a job, can afford to do so. Jolly good for her. I just note because I happened to have seen it parked in the back… in the area I shovelled and maintained all season thus far. I just note. – 18.01 I feel as if it’s much later. Almost time to wrap another day. YAY! Another day finished! I look forward to the “end” of the day. It’s rather amazing, really, that it’s already the end of Wednesday. This week is passing rapidly. I wish the rest of “time” would do like-wise. Plans for the rest of the evening? Wash the dishes after I’ve showered. I’d feel better after a shower… not because it matters to anyone other than me. And, these times, “Me” is all I have… just “Me”. Not a sad lot, really. I’m not stupid. I can easily entertain me very well. Even Oma said so, many years ago: “I love it when you come for the week-end. You can find so many things to do to keep so very busy.” It never changed. I suppose I was learning then, what I’d need in future. I’m… amused…

Thu.17.Jan: 7.26 Snowing this morning. The house is silent. Some-how, it’s rather calm. The heat is up as I wander through its warm emptiness. And I can’t help but think, as I look out the windows: You know you’re on the wrong side of life when the snow falls on everything around and melts on every bit of earth except the drive, the one place that will require shovelling. And that is what greets me this morning. – As I sit to type this, my left hand tingles and the pinky and ring finger are almost completely numb from the alleged “Ulnar compression”, the result of shovelling and reshovelling the snow on the drive, a drive that I don’t use and have no personal need to maintain. Both arms are painful, rather shaky this morning. My entire body feels some-what “removed”, separate from something. From me? From the world? Just something. Strange. Oh well. To think that, for so many years, typing is how I made a living, how I’ve expressed myself. Writing has always been something of a therapy, an pleasure. Drawing, painting, crafting… it’s being taken away from me as well. I’m tumbling into the age where everything is decaying. And it’s happening so rapidly! I suppose the best part of it all is that this is happening in the silence and solitude that is and always has been my existence. All through my entire existence. – Last night, just after I put out the light and pulled the bed-clothes round me, I laid on the cot, in the dark room up-stairs and as I looked at the light filtering in through the windows from the street-light, that bit of pinkish-orange that these days replaces the old, familiar and more comfortable blue that once illuminated the streets, softly poured in through the windows of my Oma’s house, in the early years before “vapour lights” were discovered, I realised that I’m here, very much alone. The rent on this place is being paid by someone who is never here and, as far as I can tell, wants nothing to do with this place. Silas maintains the rent payments because the landlord has refused to allow him to break the lease and, well, even as Silas has said, whether he is here or not, he’d be paying the remainder of the lease, so he may as well pay, keep the place, and yes, it’s rather good to know that I will have a place to “be” in for the duration. But I had to wonder, last night, this morning (it was about half past mid-night at the time): How did I come to this point in my “life” where I’m here, in this house, being rather “kept”, a “leech” of sorts, alone, trapped, alone, and all but worthless? How did this all happen? I was, even as a mere child, independent, a “provider”, responsible. I took care of my parents’ other children, I maintained my parents’ house. Then, I took care of a family of my own, provided shelter, nurture and nourishment for a dying child. Later years, mine was the house that others came to in times of their need. And always, my doors were open to them. How then, did it come to this devastation? I just don’t know. And this morning I have to think: Dear Rabbi Lewis, please note that I don’t ask “Why?”, I am asking “How?”. But just as there is no answer to “Why?”, I can’t seem to find the answer to “How?” – It doesn’t matter. None of any of this really matters at all. Today, now, I’m here, journalling all of this. In a matter of time, the blink of an eye in the time-line of all that “is”, this, me, and all of my entire existence will mean absolutely nothing to any-one. Right now, here, I’m really nothing more than something that takes space, air, and food. Useless really. As my father said when I was very young, a “burden”. – Last night, for what-ever reason, I looked at the aerial views of Dingle Daisy Rd. The “compound” is gone. Gen and Karl’s house still stands, but the circular drive is completely gone and where the 3 mobiles used to be, only one remains… oddly, in the stead of the “Royaltys'” home, there seems to be one “house” today. The other 2 are gone. So gone, in fact, that there’s no indication that they ever were there. Sis and George’s place seems to be there, just down the road. And the Albrecht “compound” is impressive… removed from the main road. They’d actually named their drive, as I recall from when I was last there… MANY years ago. It was a bit strange, “travelling” that road, from above. But I knew exactly where I was all along. And the intersection always known as “Squirrels Corners”, where Alvin was born, is no longer indicated as such. Things have been “developed” all along the Forestburgh Rd. Nothing is as it was. Nothing. And it came to mind, what Motek had said in our conversation just the other day: NYC is gone. Well, now it’s ALL “gone”. Nothing remains. And here I sit, quote alone, in this dead silence as the snow accumulates now on the road as well, and I too am “gone”. My past is gone. Even my present is gone. And as far as I’m concerned… so too is my future. – 8.32 Coffee water on the stove. Time to begin, yet again, a last-ditch effort at resolving the matters of this pit of misery. Today I’ll simply by-pass all the minor players in the field and begin to attack the upper echelon. Lettres to those to whom I truly mean nothing… those who are called the “government”. I’ve nothing to lose and not a trace of “care” about any of it any longer. And I have the time. It will fill the day. Eventually I’ll head out to clear the snows from the drive… more a matter of passing time than much else. Just passing time… – 8.44 A thought: In the likelihood that it ever comes to mind, and I write this this morning because this thought has come to my mind more than this once… Silas whines about being out delivering mail in this weather, driving vehicles that are, in his opinion, un-worthy of being out on the roads. I, personally, find that it’s more a matter of general inexperience driving and the fact that his experience and learning are both from and in this shit-hole of generally in-breed insanity. Indeed, he gets himself into vehicular situations that could very well be avoided. But that, this morning, now, is not a point. Right now, my point is: I’ve no doubt that the thought comes to his mind (and perhaps, the minds of others) that, whilst he is out in weather such as we are having at this moment, high winds whistling through the windows, blowing snow all about, bending the trees, and rather bitter temperatures, ice forming on the roads, I am sitting in this house, sheltered, protected and enjoying all the comforts and pleasures of having nothing to do, relaxing, involved in nothing, warm and dry. And I just want to get it off my chest, out of mind and soul that there is a fact that I’m absolutely certain is never given a thought, and even if it is, the fact is denigrated: Whilst he is driving o’er country-side, popping enveloppes into little boxes and tossing parcels hither and yon on front stoops, I am shovelling “his” drive, lifting some-what heavy loads of snow and ice; I am IN the winds and snows, un-protected, IN the cold air, exposed for the most part; I am washing floors, maintaining a clean and orderly house for the time when he comes in, tosses things about, cooks and then sits to watch videos, play video games, falls asleep and the walks out the door again; I sit here, conserving heating fuel and electricity whilst he is kept warm in a place maintained by his “parents”, no concern about heating fuel and the likes; in this house there is precious little in the way of food, but where he is, others buy the food, prepare and serve; I WALK to and from the stores, through snow and ice and rain and wind, where he gets into his vehicle and, even if the distance be a matter of, let us say 2/10s of a mile, will drive, in comfort; he also drives to where-ever it’s necessary to be out-side the house, and I again, walk. So, when it comes to which of us exerts more, invests more… well, the bottom line is that this is not “MY” house, home, responsibility. Yet, I attend to and maintain it. And I sit here, alone, with-out a phone call, e-mail or other communication whilst he socialises with others on a routine basis. This said… HE has a JOB (which all began because of my support and assistance and encouragement… even as he, himself admitted more than once). I CANNOT get a job right now and even if I DID… I will HAVE to walk to and from it. But I continue to try, against all the odds. And I do so with INCREDIBLY ABSOLUTELEY NO HELP FROM ANY-ONE IN ANY MANNER, IN SPITE OF HAVNG ASKED FOR LITTLE HELP. – That’s all. – 9.31 A call comes in… I can’t find paper nor pen! SO completely un-like me! By the time I figure I’ll just take the call… too late… missed. FUCKME! It was from the sweet woman at the attorney’s office, calling to refer me to something called the “Vermont Association for Justice”. OK then… a referral… ANOTHER referral… ANOTHER attorney who WON’T take the case or even help. Toss the old fuck to the side, send him on his way to some-one else. Yup. Good day. OK. – Looked to find just how much the crud of Days Inn owes me for the 8 hours on that 29th July… imagine this: the ONLY statement history I can’t find on the banque records is… of course… the month of July! However, I was rather shocked to see that my tenure there was only from 2 June to 29 July!!! How FASCINATING! In just a tiny bit over a month’s time that abortion, the bit of descended colon, that pustule of ALL Creation succeeded in wiping-out every bit of anything “good” I’ve ever accomplished in my time here on this Earth! Isn’t it amazing? Bloodyfucking thorough, she is. So very quick. And to think, lah-dee-trah-lah-lah, there she is today, just muddling through her existence of pure, distilled evil, enjoying her “life” as if that time had never happened at all, and I sit here, only just celebrating the notice received in today’s post that my UN-EMPLOYMENT… I repeat… UN-employment benefits have increased by 12$/week! 540/month income! (Gee! If my calculations are correct, ALL of that will just cover the cost of heating oil for a month… an nothing else. But hey! Toasty warm! Trah- lah-dee-trah-lah-lah and hoo-rah!

One can’t help but think: If the metaphoric fucking I’ve taken were literal… by now, my bowels would be in bloody shreds; rectum completely prolapsed, dangling out of my body as a puss-filled, fetid, necrotic bit of flesh and my anus, no longer existent, stretched to the point of becoming nothing more that a bit of surrounding tissue, an orifice stuffed with putrid, rancid mucosal meat.

And moving right along… the drive got shovelled this after-noon. All’s well there. Another “good deed done” for the comfort of… certainly not me. Although, in a remote respect, it IS done for me: I am the one upon whom the responsibility of the drive is now placed so, having gotten the 2 inches of snow removed NOW, I won’t have to deal with the packed tracks and the additional snow that’s forecast to come. Selfish… totally and unadulteratedly selfish of me. – That done, I took a stroll “into town”, stopped at the banque for a bit of a withdrawal and up to the Dollar General for… cleaning and freshening items… for the house… to make certain it’s presentable when (if) Mr. Silas returns. Also, got a new frame for the art-work (the Kanji) that had been smashed on the floor when he had the audacity to try to return it to me recently. (Actually, I like the new frame better. Not “perfect” but certainly more aesthetically pleasing… and I see, the velum is torn… let it serve as reminder… fuckit.) On the trip back, again, a selfish act: I stopped at Mayhew’s, a pack of cigarettes to carry me through to Saturday when I’ll get the cigarettes I DO enjoy (in Sutton), and 2 beers. Why the beer? I don’t know, really. I just had a bit of a desire for one this evening. Abbie was in a most wonderful mood and we had a bit of a laugh for the moment. (How kind of me: to bring a smile and a laugh to others…) – Back at the “home-stead”, I got into the cleaning and tidying. Had to cook something to call “meal” tonight, only for the sake of killing an appetitie and making certain that I have the necessary strength and stamina to maintain the house in future. HAD to cook the entire package of beef that had been in the freezer and made a bit of a goulash with onion and potatoes. It turned-out that I had a bit of the beef as it thawed and cooked and the rest? Cooked it through… for future. – Tonight I tried to clean the kitchen floor with a bit of “mop and shine” product, hoping to give a bit of a “waxed” appearance. The floor is clean… and still dull. Alas. Fuckit. It’s clean. – Dishes got washed. I was going to shower tonight but having done the floor and the dishes, there wasn’t enough hot water left (the tank indicates 38,5 Imperial gallons… I believe that was an error… I doubt the capacity is even 38,5 litres… yet another bit of shit from our dear landlord… another Vermonter). So, by about 22.00, this day was complete. I was tired enough to watch 2 episodes of “Red Dwarf” and head up-stairs to bring this day to a complete arrest… Done.

Fri.18.Jan: 8.13
“Do you have any idea at all, what it’s like to walk around, wishing for, needing and desiring the touch of another human being, remembering what you once looked like back in those days when you actually were desirable, looking at another person and thinking how wonderful it would be to make physical contact, how stupendous it would be if he fell in love with you and you could live ‘happily ever after’, particularly in your old age, and yet, all the while, facing the absolute truth that you’ve become the most hideous creature moving on the face of the earth, that people look at you in pity, if not disgust and, although they ‘appreciate your personality and sense of humour, your kindness and ability to love others, are actually repulsed by the slightest notion of having anything more to do with you than, perhaps, in a fleeting moment of nothing more than décorum, a bit of a hug, simply, and for no more than, to express a tiny bit of ‘thanks’ or some sort of ‘consolation’? And as you’re hugged, you think: “This will be brief.” and “What courage, what strength, what hypocrisy is in full expression right now, to actually touch that some’thing’ that makes you now what to burn your clothes and scrub down with kerosene.” THAT is how I live every moment of my life. I’m a modern-day leper, and I’m very much aware of that fact.”

Last night, under the blankets and on a visit to “The Monsters of Templeton” at 22.30! As I read, I listened to the voices and the hacking coughs coming through the walls from Hilary’s. It was preceded by foot-steps so heavy that, for brief moments during the evening, I had to stop and look to see who’d walked into the room where I was standing and had thought I was alone. – I was awake at 6.30 this morning. Delightful start to the day, to be awake at a reasonable hour. And now, as I take a moment for the “Second Cup” of coffee, a bit of a break, I’m rather happy and quite proud: last night’s cooking is stored in the fridge that got cleaned this morning, the dishes are all up and away, the kitchen is is perfect order, my room is well on its way to becoming “orderly and welcoming” (in the event that Silas actually does return for the week-end and I will be spending time in my room), and for the most part, the house is in order. Only a bit of dusting to be done. It’s been an accomplished morning in under 2 hours. – Minus 20C (minus 1F) this morning. “Crisp”. At last, Hilary’s left for what-ever it is she does with a day. The house is “mine” and I am alone in it to get it together. It’s “erev Shabbat” and tonight, should I have the delight of being alone yet again, Shabbat will be observed… only for the sake of “Tradition” and nothing more. I owe it to me to do so. – And now, for the next few hours? Back to the “business” I MUST attend: today, the lettre that will go to the Attorney General and Senator of this cesspool State… neither of whom I trust at all. – Tomorrow, by the way: Snow and cold… It’s going to be an interesting stroll up the road. But I WANT and WILL HAVE ce drapeau! And it will mean all the more to me, knowing that I WALKED to get it. – OK. Meanwhile, the usual bitterness du jour wells and another day commences. – 15.10 and HEY! The house is clean, I am clean (showered), my jammies are in the dryer A…N…D… I just finished a video-call with… MOTEK! The sun is shining, the sky is clear, I’ve even gone to the market (and blown over 50$ on bull-shit that would have cost me considerably LESS had I gone into Enosburgh, but I wasn’t about to WALK THERE! So there’s a bit of food in the house as well.I even splurged and got 12 “crab rangoon” things for Silas… in the even he ever comes back to the house. A…N…D… for the GREATEST NEWS SINCE I WAS IN SUTTON LAST WEEK-END: at 12.11, as I was getting ready to head to the market, the phone rang (HEY! THE BLOODY PIECE OF SHIT RANG!)… a call from the 450 area! HOME!!!!! It was Quincaillerie Home Hardware – Sutton! They actually phoned! Le drapeau is IN the store! (Oh jolly fuck me… Ms. H. has just arrived. Hopefully she’ll be in, stomping and gone before long. PLEASE?) And I’m just so pleased and thrilled and in such a lovely, Lively frame of mind to think that HOME hasn’t changed all that much at all… it’s STILL got some of THE kindest, most considerate (and intelligent) people on Earth. What a delight. And, admittedly, it kept me from running to get a bottle of vodka for tonight. I MUST be at my BEST in the morning… and I DO mean MORNING! I’ll be up and out of here, no matter what, in plenty of time to get there and back before sun-set. (When I told him about the trip tomorrow, Motek got all into it not being safe to make the trip in the snow: might get lost, could fall, get covered in snow, run over… I should be so bloody lucky. Still, I have to say “You see? You see who CARES?) And before I even went to the market, I stopped at the banque to get the cash I’ll need tomorrow so all I’ll have to do is wake, have coffee, take a “refresher” shower, dress and be on my way! One thought crossed my mind though: IF SB will be coming tonight, watch him come rolling in well after I’ve gone to bed, stomping about the place, slamming doors and the likes to wake me. Ah hah… say I. I’m going to leave his room in a state where-by he won’t have to be making all that noise… I know… KNOW he will anyway, because that’s just how he is (I wonder if he pulls this shit at his mommies’… I remember I had to remove MY shoes before going into THEIR place and yet, he finds it perfectly acceptable to track mud, water, snow, salt, ice, &c. through THIS house… Again, like with the lap-top… I’m not actually worth the effort. More on the lap-top matter in a bit.) ANYWAY… HOME TOMORROW!!!!! I’ll be sleeping ‘neath l’Drapeau de mon pays, de mes gens demain soir!!! ENFIN! ENCORE! – So, quickly about the lap-top: I must add here, if I haven’t already, how some-what and some-how intriguing I find it: Silas gets me the lap-top, it doesn’t function well, he’s hurt and upset because it’s something he wanted to give me so that I’d have a better quality of life. He was hurt and upset because it reminded him of the so-called ‘gifts’ his father would give him: second-rate, hand-me-downs and the likes. He said he he’d returned it and gotten “extra credit” for something or another AND that he was getting me an Android lap-top to replace it. Indeed… The tales of woe and worry were told, following the battle and blood-shed.. the lap-top disappeared and… Our tale ends. Finished. All of this tells the truth of the matter: the intention wasn’t anything like how the story about it was told and it certainly wasn’t given in a spirit of kindness or consideration. Bottom line? The entire thing wasn’t meant to be “given” at all and the fact that it didn’t function properly and was given back (as requested) just made the whole matter SO much better. Now he’s got his “credit” balance lowered again, and, if what he claims is true, even BETTER for the “extra credit” he was awarded for “his” trouble. I have no lap-top, no gift, no gratitude for maintaining “HIS” house here (including all the shovelling… for him and his “friend” Hilary), and it all doesn’t matter one simple, bloodyfucking bit… Once again, I’m put into my place. Neither “hurt” nor (15.39 and Ms. Hil departs… OH PRAY it’s for the entire week-end!) upset… simply that much the wiser. It makes so much, so much easier. As is my general attitude toward EVERYTHING south of the 49th parallel… FUCKIT! FUCKITALL! In mind and spirit, I am completely autonomous now. – That having been said, I believe I’ll have something to eat now, early, settle in before the sun sets at which time I will enjoy my Shabbat. – It’s been a rather nice afternoon. – 21.08 and time to try for some sleep. – At 18.24 an e-mail from Silas: He won’t be back tonight. The table was… is set with flatware, plate and glass. His room all freshened. I’d sent him an e-mail to tell him that I’d probably be in bed if he got here late, to heat the goulash and have apple pie. Yes, I did that… for him. That’s me: so completely stupid that it’s indescribable. Well? The house got cleaned and I got to relax and watch a few more episodes of “Red Dwarf”… alone. And now? It’s as if the child who’d moved away and was expected back for a visit rang at the last moment to say “Gee, sorry… can’t make it.” Imagine that! I miss the little git. Well, that’s me… hopeless. – But tomorrow is another day… a day of being occupied for at least 6 hours… A dream come true, actually. A walk in the Québec snow, along the Québec roads, in the Eastern Townships which, for years, were just a place that Tourisme Québec touted and were, for me, the little “city dweller of Montréal”, nothing but territories un-known. But it’s HOME, and I’ll be there in a matter of hours. And with that thought, the lights go out, the table remains set, and I retire to my room up the stairs… alone… alone.

Sat.19.Jan: 7.05 At some point during the night I woke in a bit of a sweat to find the blankets strewn about. Can’t quite figure that one out. But then, at 6.30, to the sound of the morning alarm on the phone, I finally got out of bed, opened the curtains and… SNOW! Once again, the weather reports were, well, lies. Forecast has been for about or less than a centimetre. Even from the plain accumulation on the walk across the street I can see it’s already been about 5-6 cm and it’s still coming. So, as I sit here, I’m figuring what I should wear for today’s little adventure up the road and, along the road, what to do when the snow-plow comes through. (Instinct tells me to simply fall in front of it, since I’ll already be on the HOME turf, but compassion tells me that that wouldn’t be fair to the driver. After all, the driver wouldn’t understand that s/he was doing me a kindness and neither would the investigators. The driver might fee terrible about the whole affair and, well, that’s not my intention or purpose. But… so much for this thought.) So and anyway, the plan was for a 9h. departure this morning. There’s another 2 hours or so until then. We’ll give it all a shot and see what that bit of future holds. If this all lets up just a tad, I am SO out of here and on the road! (And getting out of here is what I’m focusing on.) – (On Sun.20.-7.19) In the course of “Wasted Days”, today falls into that chapter. As the morning progressed, the snow did, in fact, cease. But instead of the forecast “less than 1 cm” we finally ended-up with, well, probably more like 10cm! So, of course, that meant the need to get out there and clear the drive before temperatures warmed and it became wet and packed. And so, that’s exactly what I did. Yet another day of clearing a drive that I don’t use. Oddly, today, I rather resented doing it. Just too aware of the fact that I neither need nor actually use the damned drive and back-yard parking space but I’m the one who makes certain it’s clear for “others”. Still, when it was all done, in about 2 hours’ time, I did derive some satisfaction of knowing the job was done. So, I suppose… it’s fine, just fine. – Popped down to Mayhew’s for a pack of Camels, something I did NOT want to do today. I was looking forward to a nice Belvedere today. But at the store, got into a rather nice chat with the dark-haired woman whose name I’ll learn eventually. She’d said something to a previous customer about “There are still some nice people in the world…” and it struck me a bit. We talked about folks in Richford and the nicer side of the town. And, in the course of the chat, I managed to tell about Dianne and Days Inn and that fiasco. “That’s just not right!” she said. “That’ll follow you for the rest of your life! That’s just not right!” It felt good to hear somebody in this miserable State say that. It doesn’t do anything to actually correct the matter, but it’s comforting to hear that SOMEbody here understands. Anyway, it was really nice talking with her. (I didn’t realise just how much I sort of needed a bit of conversation with somebody, since I don’t have any, for the most part, save typing…) – Back at the house, it was a rather wasted day. Got in a couple of episodes of “Red Dwarf”. I’ve lined-up “Coupling” after this show is done. But it bothers me to think that I might be coming to the end of the entire series soon. It’s a wonderful distraction from… well… the “reality” of this place and my “existence” in it. And, there was a bit of “brunch”… one small bowl of breakfast cereal. I’m not at all hungry of late. Not in the least bit. – Rest of the day? Pretty much down-loading music… Enya… remembering Viv, missing her terribly. I just feel so incompetent and useless and helpless in that, here I am, mere moments from the frontière, access to the Internet, and I’ve no clue as to how to find her. Ah… “Life”. Waste. – But this evening took a turn: a CALL FROM SILAS! Well, I was excited for several reasons on that bit: The phone RANG! The signal stayed through the conversation. Silas actually rang after all this time! AND… oddly enough, he said, he ACTUALLY said: “I miss you.” Imagine that! It was SO good to talk with him. But the over-lying thought through the conversation, for me, was just how close he truly is and yet, how far it seems. Well, he’s actually holding TWO jobs now! And THAT fact, as I listened to him talk of his schedule for the week coming? I’d been sitting on the stairs (for the best phone signal in the house) and I literally HAD to put my head down on the steps from the nausea that gripped me! Listening to him talk of TWO jobs physically made me so ill that I wanted to vomit! To think, he’s working TWO jobs… and I can’t even get ONE simple, stupid, part-time job! I’M the one who always worked all those hours, on one job or more. I’M the one who SHOULD be working to contribute my “fair share”. I’M the one who SHOULD be holding the hours! THIS is simply, frankly, truly SHIT! Just SHIT! I felt useless. I felt “wrong”. I felt “helpless AND hopeless”. It quite literally SHOVED me into a despair that I actually felt… PHYSICALLY! As he talked, I listened, and as I listened, I could feel my entire being, physical, mental and emotional, spiralling down-ward into some black oblivion. The most interesting bit, if one could call it “interesting” was that it was all very real, very tangible, very palpable, very physical. I don’t know if he could sense my torment over the phone, but just in time, he changed the topic and we went into Vermont politics and law and such, and then onto the house. Well, as Fate would have it, the talk stopped when the goddamn phone battery went dead. Piece of shit! Still, we had at least an hour or more to talk. And, as it stands, not only is he working the week-end… he’s also working through the coming WEEK! Yet another week here… alone… Tonight though, it wasn’t so much the time “alone” that bothered me but the fact that Silas wouldn’t be here for that time. As he said to me, that he misses me? Yes, I too, miss him. This situation shouldn’t be this way and today only served to make me all the more brutally bitter. I’m just SO completely engulfed, enshrouded by and with bitterness these days, these weeks, these months. Quite honestly? It’s becoming so much more than I can actually handle. Why I’m journalling this is a bit beyond me. I suppose it’s just a bit of an attempt at my own “therapy” really. But it has to be let out some-where and, well, the reality of this situation is that there is NOT ONE person out there who WILL listen. And I certainly don’t want to go to some moron with a 4-8 year degree on Bleeding Heart Liberalism, I CAN’T be confronted by some total idiot who’s been brain-washed to the point of clinical “Brain Dead”, some “Social Worker” who’s going to patronise and lull. Still, I’m just SO aware, at every single moment, no matter what I do, that this Bitterness is now in my gut, and it doesn’t look as though it’s going to go anywhere else, save, into the very construct of my cellular composition. Yes, that pretty much describes it. – Tonight, in spite of KNOWING that I shouldn’t, that it isn’t the long-term solution, I headed out, took a walk, got a bottle of vodka. Tonight I knew that tea wasn’t going to kick this. – Tonight’s visit to Wetherby’s was an education. Got to talking with the daughter who was “watching the store” as it were. We talked about local news. We talked about people who have been robbing local stores. We talked about the multiple hits on stores in Enosburgh. We talked about hits to stores here in town. She, a young woman, a true “Local”, born and raised here, rather shocked me when she said “Things are really difficult for people these days. They just can’t afford things that they need any more.” Then she mentioned, with a young man who was watching the store with her standing by and suddenly stopping his floor-mopping, the “suicide” that I’d seen reported on-line… Christmas day. I remember it striking me at the time and how deeply it cut into me when I saw the report. And then she put a circumstance and a NAME to it: The man (I wasn’t going to use his name but, having a personal relationship with “suicide”, I know that bleakness and darkness and it does the World good to know that WE, as a miserable society have failed yet another human-being, to put a name to this “incident”) Louis Miller. Just before “he shot himself” (she mentioned it almost casually, as is appropriate I should think because, well, he did just that) she told me, he’d come into the store to get something and had said “Everything’s so expensive!” He was having difficulties affording even the basic essentials to survival! Imagine that! And, of ALL days in time, on the eve of the ONE day when most of the World, most of Humanity proclaims all sorts of “Good will toward all men”! AH HAH! Hypocrisy at its finest moment! Incredibly miserable! And Truth, blatant and manifest, obliterated! WHAT A BLOODYFUCKING miserable SHAME! Well, fuckme if this didn’t drive itself right into my core! I KNOW what he went through that Christmas eve. I KNOW what brought him to his decision. I KNOW, all too well, ALL of what he experienced. And I KNOW how even his own flesh and muscle felt at the time. And now… this “incident”, this “police report” has a NAME, and a PERSON! – As I left and walked back to the house, I looked at the bridge, at the arch over it, the little clock that measures the passing of time, measures time passed, and the decal words “Welcome To Richford” attached across the span. “Welcome” indeed. As I’d said at Mayhew’s earlier today “If you don’t like being here, then leave. But don’t come here to make it worse than it is.” And then again, this evening, when the young woman said “Yes, Richford is a shit-hole, but there’s a LOT of GOOD here, a LOT of GOOD PEOPLE here.” my reply was “I happen to LIKE Richford and I happen to call this place my home.” But looking at the bridge and the “Welcome”, in the darkness tonight, hearing the flow of the Missisquoi, something touched me: ALONE… I’m ALONE here now and this IS my “home”… ALONE. I was comfortable with this place in a manner. But then it struck me: Most of the people here are unemployed, rather destitute… that’s what Richford is known for… and here am I, one of the rank-and-file… truly… I am one of the people of this town… I’m part of this society here, remote and left alone to survive in any manner we can… unemployed… “useless” in the eyes of the “greater society”. And my own depression deepened and my despair increased. I made my way up Town Street, tossed my cigarette butt into the storm drain and came into the empty, dark, house… ALONE. – I poured a “one-shot” vodka-tonic (“one-shot”: only one drink would be just enough to make me weary enough to sleep tonight) and tried for some communication on-line. A diversion. Conversation. Communication with some-one. And, as Fate would have, the only communication tonight was a brief exchange of about 3 or 4 lines with Henry… in NJ. Remembering the days of lengthy chats, of going to visit with him and Aaron… none of it improved the mood tonight and when all went “silent”, I did, in fact, head up-stairs, to my little cot, for some reason feeling that I had to light 3 white tea-lights tonight and did so. But as I did, as I got ready to get under the covers, a thought struck me (and I do mean “struck”): NOW, more than EVER before in my life-time, I MUST use this time that I have to GET what it is that I actually deserve and MUST have… The reason? So that I CAN have something that I WILL leave behind… to Silas. In some strange respect, the guy’s become my “child”. I know, too well, the bit of Hell he goes through (ever since he told me that he’s spent most of his “life” believing that he’s a disappointment to his parents… a SON, born imperfect; what a bloodyfucking disgrace to BOTH of them, whether they’ve said as much or not, but allowing him to FEEL that way SO deeply that he actually TELLS me of it! It makes me SICK!). So, at the very least, I went to bed tonight, at about 23.30, with a small sense of purpose. – Feeling the need to do so, tonight, with me: הבאתי איתי, מגפיים עשה אהבה. It was, all to simply, for the sake of feeling “close”, kind.

Sun.20.Jan: 8.47 It was a miserable night, again, last night. The HOT flash, the sweats. Second night in a row. Inexplicable. – This morning, I woke with the alarm and let the “snooze” just run the 3 times before finally getting out of bed at about 7h. Over-cast, warm, the icicles on the roof dripping, melting away (again). There’s turf in the drive again. And the WIND! It had started last night as I went to bed. I laid there watching the trees snap back and forth, listened to the rush as it hit the house. Fierce! And this morning, it’s all the stronger! Rather amazing! If this weather is much south of here, I’m relieved to know that Silas isn’t out in it, trying to deliver some selfish idiot’s lettres and parcels and that sort of shit that, in the greater scheme of Existence means nothing, but to the ego-centric of Chittenden, is a “life or death” matter… with NO consideration of the little guy who risks his own safety and well-fare (sic) to bring that worthless shit to them. – Again this morning, it was to be the walk to Sutton. But again, this morning, that would be complete insanity. I don’t much care about what might happen to me. But I certainly will not put myself in a place where some-one else may, in the rains that are now falling, in these 40-plus km/h winds strike me as I try to navigate my own way up and back on the 139. The temperature is a comfortably warm 6 degrees. It would be a delightfully pleasant stroll this morning. But from the forecast, the only thing to look forward to is more of this and… in about an hour… the temperatures are about to plummet into minus 12 by 20.00. Tomorrow’s max temperature? Minus 15 but only partially cloudy. It’s a “holiday” here tomorrow. But in moments, I can simply cross the border into another “country” (HOME!!!) where life will continue as “normal” and so too, business. I’m “down” about having to defer for the second day. But sense over-rides all and, here I’ll be, watching the trees whip in all directions, the flag across the street, snap in the wind, watch the water accumulate in the ruts in the drive, and, knowing that I could/SHOULD have a vehicle in which to simply drive the 12 minutes to my destination, pull the shroud of even MORE bitterness around me and lock myself in, behind these windows and doors and… rot a little more. – BUT…. THERE IS WORK TO BE DONE! Letters to be composed! And THIS day will be for THAT purpose! There’s a WAR to be fought and a battle to be WON! And today… TODAY! IT WILL BE! Today, the Bitterness is mixed with ANGER and armed with that combination, the energy IS focused on the “GOAL”! I WILL HAVE MY JUSTICE! – 14.45 The wind has been blowing so hard all day that the “tea cup-board” in the kitchen won’t stay closed! A touch freaky, that. But it’s all in stride. I managed to make it out of the house for a pack of cigarettes just a bit ago, when the skies were still clear. “Crisp” is the best way to describe it. But now, again, the sky goes back to Winter grey, the winds bang against the house and bits of flurry blow every which way out-side the window. I’m having coffee. – Got chomage taken care of for today and 2 out of 3 for next week already. Productive? WHO the fuk really cares? – E-mail from NANCY! She got a new apron and the pattern looks SO much like her art! Wow! What a shame we don’t live closer. It’s a perfect day (here) for visiting and sitting over hot coffee… seeing her new pinnie. Eh ben. Not happening. Distance… from Nanc this time… from all who have ever meant anything to me at all. Distance. Sometimes I REALLY believe that THIS is, as Mum used to say “Hell”. – The house is ever so dead-quiet. Ah… but there’s still more than ,25 tank of oil! This last fill is holding quite nicely in spite of the cold snaps we’ve had. May it last into the week at least! – Now, to coffee-break and then? And then… – (Mon.21.continuing…) Exciting day? Well… I did get out of the house for a while. Walked down to Mayhew’s for a pack of cigarettes and chatted with the nice lady there for a while. Every time I leave that store, I come out with a smile and a feeling that Richford actually IS becoming my “home” town. On the way up Town St. it hit me: this too, will be ripped from me in precious little time. I’m becoming adjusted to it, acclimated to it, the time to be shoved out is soon to come. I don’t know when; I don’t know how, but I have my suspicions… No doubt the phone call is coming “I’ve decided to take the chance and I’m out of there. I’m sorry, man.” It’s coming. And once again, it’ll make no difference to Silas… just as it’s never made any difference to anybody… Call me “Disposable”. – I made it to and from Mayhew’s just in time. The FLURRIES were more like a bit of a squall, the WIND kicked in fiercely, and things went blowing all about. I actually did a bit of a video on the computer and sent a copy to Silas and Nancy. – But the strangest thing kept happening through the evening: I could NOT keep the door to the tea cupboard closed! Seriously! For some strange reason, every time I went into the kitchen, the door was open! I’d close it and leave the kitchen and when I’d return… OPEN! For some reason, I happened to notice that the back/kitchen door was UN-LOCKED as well! I don’t recall EVER leaving that door un-bolted! Just all rather odd… Prophetic? Probably. In what way? I don’t know… but the truth is: I don’t care. More-so simply because I can’t care any longer… about just about everything or anything. – Tonight’s “meal” was more of the “goulash”, served with much “Red Dwarf”. – Had a brief, but up-lifting few moments on Twtr with Nancy. She’s not aware of just how much it means to me. Link to sanity? Connection with reality? She truly is… “Friend”. Again… distance. But she means the World and more to me.

Mon.21.Jan: 6.56 Cloudy and cold, with a high near 7. Wind chill values as low as -23. Northwest wind 6 to 11 mph becoming light in the afternoon. – A delightful day for a trek. The temperatures are Fahrenheit. Oh well. We’ve done and been through worse… I think. – Woke at some point this morning, very early, for no particular reason. But at least this time, not because of night-sweats. A welcome change. But last night’s beef is kicking about this morning. Hopefully that’ll stop in due order. – Now, with this time this morning, it’s time to get into the things that NEED to get done! Shame though, tonight the phone goes out of service. I sent a simple request to Silas yesterday, via e-mail, to stop by the Walmart in Williston, pick up a phone card, e-mail me the “PIN” and I’d send him the money tomorrow (since the PO isn’t open today… holiday and shit). He’d have the money by Wednesday. This morning? No reply. Of course not! Stupid me! I actually had the audacity to “ASK” for something! Ah… it’s not a “lap-top” situation (I give, I regret giving, you complain, I say I’ll replace, I return, get money back, the end). People… people are predictable. Waste… – Last night I was under the covers, tucked away on my cot by 23.00. I read until 23.18 (the Nighty Night tea works! Amazing stuff. I don’t know how and I’m not asking. It just works. A gift from Nancy… a gift from a “Friend”). As I put out the light, I had a little prayer, more like begging: Please, a night of restful sleep, with-out mid-night wake in cold sweat tonight. I actually got it. When I woke this morning, I realised that I’d I’d slept through the entire night, and I woke rather well. – And now? As the sun shines and the temperature rises to a balmy -8C, I’m well on the way to heading out… SUTTON!!! – 21.11 WHAT AN INCREDIBLY WONDERFUL DAY! I wish I could journal it all with all the justice it deserves. But I doubt I can, so I’ll simply journal. – To begin with, I actually got into the letter to the Attorney General. Paragraphs were composed this morning. Primarily because I’m angry… beyond description, I’m angry. But the anger is now being composed in a beneficial way… this lettre will go to the AG AND Bernie! – Wrap-up at about 10.15 and off to a REAL SHOWER this morning! Hot water, the great Nivea gel. Refreshing, rejuvenating, pleasant. And… I WAS CLEAN! FRESH! READY TO HEAD OUT THE DOOR INTO THE SUB-ZERO TEMPEARTURES AND ON THE ROAD TO… “HOME”!!!!! by about 11.20!!!!! – This morning, this trip, I HAD to try the new socks that Nanc sent. According to all the “hiking” web-sites, cotton is the worst thing to wear and that’s all I have. But Nanc sent socks with no cotton. So? – It really wasn’t all as cold today as the thermometre said… or I was just so into getting the bloodyfuck out of here that it didn’t matter. Truth? I wasn’t but about 2 blocks from the front door and I really didn’t think I was going to make the trip. Tired. Not feeling all too well. But… the choice was no choice at all: Here, in this cesspool for another day or… HOME!!! HOME won (of course) and on to the Douanes we marched. And THAT is where the DAY began… – Yes, it was “normal”, having to produce the lettre of “dismissal” to the kind M. McCarthy who, when I began telling him what the lettre was about said “I remember this.” He REMEMBERED! He was a bit shocked about me walking all that distance in sub-freezing temperatures and asked me to go in and get out of the cold. (Me? I didn’t mind it at all!) THIS morning, it took LONGER for the little fellow who was handling the situation to get through it all. And THEN? And THEN! They had to take apart the back-pack, I had to remove my jacket and sweat-shirts AND GOT A PAT-DOWN! M. McC said it was simply because it was so unusual to see anybody WALKING in cold weather like this. Ah… they confiscated the Benadryl (that I’d gotten from Penelope back in T6)… but I told them to do so since it’s got to be about 2-3 years old anyway. (They did me a favour by taking it.) But, when it was all done? Mr.McC was MORE concerned about whether or not I was concerned about frost-bite! Honestly! They were concerned about me getting frost-bite! Is it any wonder I feel I belong there and certainly not here? I even explained to both of them, the farce concerning Days Inn and Dyan, and both of them were actually sincere with their sympathies. HOME. – And away and up the 139. – Sweat! I broke into a sweat several times along the road. The exercise and such built up so much heat! But, I walked ALL the way into Sutton… AND… NO BLISTERS, NO FOOT PROBLEMMES! And it was just sheer DELIGHT to be there… HOME… and familiar… and HOME! – Went directly to the Quincaillerie and there again, that same Jewish guy! He went to get the drapeau for me and we got into all sorts of conversation. He recommended several humourous shows on YouTube that I’d enjoy… mainly concerning politics of Québec, Canada and the mis-conceptions Americans have about Canada. WE discussed POLITICS! I REALLY WAS HOME AGAIN! And, quite frankly, I have to admit, it would be nice if he were… oh… available. But I won’t even consider that. – I HAVE A DRAPEAU AGAIN! Tonight I get to sleep ‘neath the banner of… the HOME-LAND! – A quick stop at the depaneur for cigs, May West, Coke and, all too soon, I was back on the 139 Sud. It was about 15.00 already! But it was still day-light and I was EXHAUSTED! My legs were going… but my feet were fine. So, the walk was fine, in spite of being a bit sad because I was leaving HOME. Still, since I was there last week and again this week, it’s becoming a bit easier. I KNOW I can go back… ALL THE TIME! – At the border of Sutton/Abecorn, I started to “sink”. Just SO tired! I considered hitching, but just couldn’t get myself to do so. So, I kept walking and… just beyond the 5km mark a car pulled over and a woman beckoned me! She spoke precious little English and told me she was only going into Abercorn. I told her I was going to the frontière… SHE DROVE ME ALMOST TO LES DOUANES! I WAS SO STUMPED! SO AMAZED! SO BAMBOOZLED! SO GRATEFUL! Then she explained “I saw you walking. You weren’t hitching. You weren’t hitching so I thought I would stop and offer a lift and if you preferred to walk you could say no.” We talked about the difference between people in Vermont who’ll drive right by and people in Québec who have the decency to at least stop and ask if someone would like a lift. As she said “Sometimes there is a good Samaritan.” and indeed, she was! I was crossing back into Vermont (ready to kill something “American”) and it was still day-light! I’ll never be able to thank this woman enough… and I kept thinking of that all the way to… – Customs… where, again, it was a matter of back-pack and jacket and chat about the guy being out in the woods this morning in 4F weather at 9.00 “sugaring”… which came shortly after I passed a few cracks about Vermont and told him the entire story of the Days Inn fiasco. (He wasn’t offended, in fact, he rather agreed about the insanity of Vermont… and me? I got MORE of the Days Inn reputation about. I’d also gotten some of it and the anti-Québec sentiments in at the depaneur.) – I left Customs feeling quite amazed about the events of the day when a dark SUV came north on the VT139. It stopped, window rolled down and the nice guy at the wheel, young, black hair, probably Irish, starts the conversation “Did you just walk down from Canada?” The car was un-marked but BY GOD could I tell he was Border Control and I was right! He works the wooded area along the frontière. Imagine that! – So… Seems I was quite the issue today:NONE of them, or so they claim, have experienced anybody walking the 139 in weather as cold as it was today. (And, as the B.P. said “I’ve never seen you before…”) HAH! As I told the others before him: some people come “alive” in Summer… I come “alive” in cold weather. And today!!! I most certainly did! And it was SO worth every moment! – Got into the house… chilled. I’d set the thermo at 55F and it really was quite too cold. I put a chicken pot pie in to cook, cranked the thermo up to 70F but somehow, I couldn’t shake the chill… in me. But… the pot pie was quite good. – Got to Skype with NANC this evening! Really rounded-off a truly MAGNIFICENT DAY! It was SO good seeing her and chatting. I just WANTED to tell her about the events of the day and… there she was! A “FRIEND”! – The rest of this evening? The final episode of Red Dwarf! I actually got to see it… and am sad it’s done. But now we move on to “Coupling”. – And still no word from Silas. Of course! I asked for help keeping the phone on! He disappears. Yup… put in my place… yet again. Again, it was just too much trouble to pop to WalMart and pick up a card. (And too much to replace the lap-top with the promised replacement.) – Fuckit! – 22.12 Ms. Hilary’s in the house tonight… and she’s making a point of making it known. Boom-boom bass, stomp-stomp across the floor and “kitty-kitty”. Trash… indeed. – 23.29 and the house is calm again. And me? I’m off to “cot” for the night. A few dishes will be left in the sink… I don’t care. And tomorrow? A day with a drapeau!

Tue.22.Jan: 19.33 WHAT A DAY! It’s actually been “work” on this case for the A.G. ALL DAY! Researching and writing and typing and composing and more researching and… ALL DAY! I’ve been in my pajama-sweats all day, never took the time to change, only got up from the chair for coffee and a brief bit of bread for lunch. I should feel “accomplished”. I feel like shit. But that’s for more reasons than a simple one or two. – Silas’ squash was actually “tearing” from a spot on it, but for the most part, it was still fine so this evening, round 17.00, I peeled and cut and cooked it up with a bit of butter. It’s mashed now, in a plastic container in the fridge. I took photos before cooking it… just to be certain to have proof that it was going bad. Isn’t it interesting that something as petty as cooking that squash compels me to be certain that I have proof of NO malice? Fuck me HARD! I can’t even believe in myself any more! Anyway, “dinner”? There was a box of pasta, left-over from the boxed mac’n’cheese that Silas’ had bought and used the “cheese” part of and left the pasta. Cooked and added to a tin of lentil soup… “meal”. Filling? No. Served a purpose? Yes. Sufficient. – Washed the dishes and put them up and was prepping for a skype-call with Nanc tonight but just got the e-mail: Nope. Not tonight. Oh well. It’s a great night for it. – As I was doing the dishes, I thought about having asked Silas to get the phone card for me. I thought about how I can probably look forward to him bounding in here, one of these days, if not tonight, in some sort of “mood” to attack (again) about the phone-card, his expenses, how terribly hard he works, how difficult his “jobs” are and the likes. And tonight it hit me: I do NOT have to listen to the shit any longer. I do NOT have to HEAR the shit any longer. I NEVER should have had to hear or listen to the shit at all! HE’S the one who insisted upon signing that silly lease ALONE! HE’S the one who insisted upon having the electric bill and such in HIS name… ALONE! I expected to go into ALL… TOGETHER! Well? Now HE’S the one Don and Connie will take to court if he walks away and fails to pay the rent through August. Meanwhile, when last we spoke, HE told me that the electric bill is currently 400$-plus! I’ve paid into that bill, paid an entire month in Novembre… from my last cheque from the job! And AGAIN… HE fails on his responsibilities… Well? It all, the day’s thoughts and the out-come of the day, puts me into QUITE the mind-set tonight. And all I can think to say or type is:
TYPICAL
So, on that note, I’m continuing with the lettre until such time when I’m completely fed-up with it or until not later that 21.00, which-ever comes first. I’m showered, fresh, comfy and ready to simply fuck-off another “day”. Tomorrow, I’ll have to walk over to the oil company to put in an order for oil for the furnace. The forecast is for -26C(-8F) for the day’s HIGH and wind chills of -36C (or “as low as -33F” as the weather.gov reports). Could’ve placed the order today on the phone but… OH NO! TOO, TOO much to ask for somebody who’s out and about in the car anyway to stop by the local store, pick up a phone card and e-mail the PIN. I’m just SO BLOODYFUCKING SELFISH (and even MORE STUPID to have even given thought to such an idea)! Yes, well, I’ll be out to get the order in, first thing in the morning AND… from now on, I will NOT conserve the heat simply so this house can be “comfortable and welcoming” for ANYbody else. – So now, 19.55 (HAHAHAHAH what an hour!) as Ms. Hilary stomps about yet again this evening, I post. – OH! One more item: PJ’s items that he entrusted to me the day he left for NM? Today they went who-knows-where… left the Jericho PO since he never got them in NM and I, having no way to get to Jericho, didn’t claim them there. You know what? Really? BLOODYFUCKITALLTOHELL! – 22.27 I was in bed. Under the covers. Ace bandage wrapped round the left elbow, to keep it stable for the night. The left hand is incredibly painful. Ulnar compression, shovelling snow on a drive I don’t even use. I was a bit annoyed. But I was taking it all in stride. Then… MESSAGE: “Call me ASAP”! What the fuk? At almost 11:00pm? I don’t have out-going service on the phone! Known fact. But once again… let’s just ignore… let’s just forget. What the fuk? Really? I’m THAT USELESS? Wait until the latest hours of the night and THEN try to make contact? Honestly! HE’S “stuck” with a landlord who’ll take him to court for the rest of his working life. Not me! But I’M the one making sure the pipes don’t freeze. I’M the one already thinking of the walk to Sutton on the week-end to get the plaster to fix the cracks in the ceiling in HIS room so that nothing can be said about them. I’M the one making certain that the house is constantly in order, SMELLING FRESH and NOT like cigarettes so that HE doesn’t lose deposit money. His laundry is clean, folded, put up. HIS kitchen is clean and neat. HIS floors are maintained. HIS property is being cared for. And ME? Oh yes… ring me/send messages as late as possible because I’m just sitting round on my arse, doing nothing, wasting away, whiling away the hours, sleeping in, diddling about all the day and night. USELESS ME! THAT’S HOW IT WORKS. Minus 26 degrees tomorrow night. Minus 19 now as I type this. Oil down to almost minimum and a walk in the morning to the oil company to put in an order for more oil, and hoping that the oil in the tank will hold out long enough. I’ve about half a mind to slip across the border and just have done with it all tonight. It’s SO SO TEMPTING! There’s no “thanks” for anything. Matter of fact… the kitchen table is STILL SET with the dinner-ware I’d set for the week-end, thinking he might be here… but NO! Instead, a lengthy phone call about complaints about the TWO FUCKING JOBS HE HAS… and I’m sitting here composing 5-6 page letters to the Attorney General and the Senate because I can’t get ONE… not even a flunky PART-TIME job! No offers to “help” in any way. Gee… I even managed to make it to Burlington to the courts…. A-FUCKING-LONE! Gee! Great support. I needed to get to the post office in Jericho before today. Nope. No offers there. No consideration there. Thanks? WHO THE FUCK DO I THINK I AM? Really! And now, tonight, when I could have been reading quietly, falling asleep so to be rested enough to buck the cold tomorrow when I WALK to the oil company… FUCK ME AGAIN! NO! Let’s leave cryptic messages on the phone! “ASAP”? – I had one “free” call on Skype. Of course, I call… VOICE-FUCKING-MAIL! “Call me ASAP”? Right… but there was nothing said about answering the phone. What was I thinking? I wasn’t. OK. It’s done. The call was made. The point was made. The issue is settled. And “ALL” is clear. My message was to send an e-mail. let’s see how long it takes to drop the Facebook shit that’s probably going on and get to the matters at hand. But then… that would involve some sort of “care” and THAT is OBVIOUSLY NON-existent! Great way to end an other-wise calm and quiet, bitter freezing cold night. Thanks. I’m SO appreciative! Just fuck me!

Wed.23.Jan: 7.50 From the iPod… WHAT a bloody nuit ben fucké! It ws well after mid-night (this morning)… I’d actually “phoned” Silas TWICE! Skype (and now I’ve no “free call” on that… blown away uselessly) an on Google! Imagine THAT! Well, I’ve learned new technologies… and the queue to bugger and sod forms to the left if you please… sandy-lube dispensed at no charge). Just as I wrapped-up the whole bloody business in “his” room… Head-lights CAREENED into the drive! At this hour? Really? Well, in he comes, coughing and looking as if he’d been dead for weeks! and the first thing he wants… yes, wants… is a HUG! So, he got a hug. WTF as they say. And then he goes immediately tramping through the house, boots on, snow and all. TYPICAL. But then he got right into it: wanted to pay the phone… AH BUT, that wasn’t ALL of the story. Seems he’s received a DISCONNECT NOTICE on the electric! and he needs (shall I type “NEEDS”?) MY HELP! MY INPUT! MY OPINION! MY RE-ASSURANCE! “This is a THREAT!” he exclaims in disapproving disgust. Honestly… now he expects to go about things like this as he goes about treating people, with disinterest, disrespect and irresponsibility and he expects to come to ME to make things “alright”. And the damnedest truth of the matter? The ONLY reason I took any interest in the situation is because the electric in this house effects ME. So,off to the Internet, set-up an on-line look at the account. Imagine this: I’d told him I’d cover 100$ on the bill for the month and he decided IMMEDIATELY that it was just fine that way and paid only a portion, less the 100, of the bill. BEFORE that, and I have it on a voice-mail, he told me that HE would be paying the “utilities”. Of course, he also said that HE would be paying the oil (and today, well, that too was disproved). Well… I have to note here that, according to the disconnect notice: “If you do none of the above, your service will be disconnected between the hours of 8:00 a.m. and 2:00 p.m. on one of the following dates: 01/29 01/30 01/31 02/04 02/5 02/06 02/07 02/11”
However, the “Due Date” on the on-line version of the account states that the balance on the account isn’t “DUE” until 02/08/2013! So now I was pissed as well. Still… Mama Me took care, dressed the wounds, kissed the boo-boo and calmed the raging seas of “Reality” round the little fool. I promised to ring the electric company in the morning and take care of it all… and the rough seas calmed to a mirror-like placid lake. And what I wondered was (and is): Why did he feel he had to drive all the way up here to the house for this? Where is his mommie? Where are his “friends”? Where is his little Hilary? Where is his “world”? I suppose they’re ALL right here… the very one who’s entering all of this in this journal. Well, one of these days, in the not-so-distant future, one way or another, I will no longer be around and, if the simple-minded rumour that we are all here for a purpose is to be believed, I suppose THIS is why I’m here… to help the fools and children in the absence of God and when I’m gone, somebody’s “world” will implode. The shameful bit, if there is one: I don’t give one simple little passing fucking care. Just so long as I’m taking care of ME now. – Well, disastre averted, he got into, out of the blue, that he’s been communicating on-line with some little bit of stuff from “NY”! Saranac. “She’s one of yours…” says he. “Mine?” “She’s from The Bronx.” And he’s been “Google-ing” Saranac and how wonderful he finds it: quaint, scenic, offering good jobs, the likes. And he gets into some little tangent about how I should really be back in NY where law and life in general makes more sense and such. (As I suspected, I did my own little bit of searching and yes, indeed… “Saranac Lake” and “Lake Placid” is what he’s been looking at… not “Saranac NY”. But… I say nothing.) Yet, how interesting that he suddenly feels that I should go back to NY… where I’ll be “closer to Montréal” and it will be “easier to get to Montréal” and all that sort of “concern”… suddenly. I just let him go on about things, NY, Saranac, the bit of on-line stuff and the night passed into… – He had to be at work by 11.00 this morning, in Shelburne, so he put on an episode of “Coupling” that I’d been watching and was under his blankets in no time. He also asked me to stay and watch the show for a while. In my deepest little crevices, nooks and crannies, I do believe that on a rather important level, I’ve become the “Protective Parent” to him. Sad, really. Especially since, if it weren’t for the fact that it’s bloody cold and I’m just not in the mood to go traipsing off and about just now, and I WILL do what I must to get what is OWED me from the Days Inn episode, I’d be SO out of his existence… Anyway, so much for getting into bed at a nice, reasonable hour and settling-in. I didn’t get back to bed until 1.45 this bloody morning! Did a bit more reading and forced myself to go to sleep (I was wound from all the bull-shit). – 10.34 TECHNOLOGIES! WOW! In times of crisis, the things we learn: This morning, I actually phoned for an oil delivery and settled the electric account… ON THE COMPUTER! I’m becoming SO “Tech-savvy”! Old dog, new tricks. Franchement, I’m pretty impressed with me this morning. Must to say. I can actually connect with people, voice-wise, now! Too bloody bad it doesn’t work in the reverse unless I’m all sorts of “logged-in” on all sorts of accounts and such. But still… I’m no longer with-out voice connections! – Meanwhile, there’s another 100gals of heating oil to be delivered… when-ever they get to it… who knows when. Hopefully the oil in the tank will hold out. The temperatures are bitter, even by MY standards. The thermo is at 65F and the furnace is kicking just about every 10 mins or so, and my HANDS! My HANDS are in a constant state of uncomfortably cold. Yes, I’m not “getting” old… I AM OLD! Rather painfully OLD. – Checked, this morning, to see if this week’s chomage was posted, as it’s usually here by Wednesday. Of course not! Thanks to some clown and the MLK day, I have to suffer a delay! “Affirmative Action”… against MY so-called “minorities” (plural) who get NO recognition. “The U.S.A.”… bloodyfucking joke. Well, all the more reason I’m happy to get older. – This morning, whilst Silas was still here and we were briefly chatting, he said to me: “I don’t know why you’re not in NY. You’d be SO much better in NY.” and then he added that he’s been doing research on Saranac! He finds it attractive. He finds NYS attractive! Apparently, he’s actually considering moving to… NEW YORK! He got into all sorts of things he’s learnt about Vermont and he’s none-too-pleased. Apparently, he got into a conversation with one of the guys at the Richford P.O. and was informed that, “special” laws and such, e.g., no electric shut-off in Winter and no evictions in Winter apply ONLY in Burlington. Here, in our county, in North Buttfuk, as he put it “You put your signature on a document and it’s completely legally binding no matter how stupid.” We were talking about the lease for this place. It’s FULL of such stupidity and bull-shit that, if it were brought into a court in NYS, the parties would all be found in contempt for wasting the court’s time with frivolities. But not HERE in Vermont. Oh no! HERE, the more stoopiderer the betterer. Honestly! This entire State is one big “joke ben fucké!” and truly beyond credibility… provided, of course, one is OUT-side of it. Anyway, it turns out that yes, Silas IS bound by that ridiculous lease… legally, and so, it appears that this WILL be my “shelter” through the month of August. Comforting in one respect… but I still NEED to get the fuck OUT of here… this house… HIS house… AND THE STATE OF VERMONT! I TRULY AND WITH HEART AND SOUL WANT TO GO BACK TO NEW YORK! – Thus was the beginning of this waking-working day. – So now, thanks to “technology”, I’ve managed to attend to “business” and there will be MORE of that to come. I’m rather consoled at the moment. But now it’s time to get busy with the rest of this day. The sky is clear, the sun is shining… and it’s SO BITTER COLD! (And I’m SO BITTER… and OLD!) – Before I go about MY business du jour: This morning, in the kitchen, as he was getting ready to leave, Silas got back into the whole issue about me going back to NY and all the pluses involved, but he said something rather interesting: “I know you’ve come to love this old house and I understand why, and I know you’ve come to love this town and I understand that too…” and then, the whole issue of me going back to NY? It suddenly snapped of ME going back to NY and NOT him moving to NY. It wasn’t so much as actually said, nor was it anything in particular that was said, but some-how it actually FELT, I mean the very room FILLED with some sort of, I don’t know, call it almost a silent “vibration”, a palpable state of “YOU need to go BACK to NY”. It rather felt as if I was being TOLD to leave Vermont… by a Vermonter! Well… he’s off and finding his little “friends” here now with his “jobs”, and here I sit, no longer any part of his life. BUT… when the shit hits the fan and the chips hit his balls… Baby comes running … and ends up in the kitchen… HERE in the house where I reside. Time… Time… Time…

Thu.24.Jan: 8.21 A rather interesting morning, this. I woke after the alarm, a bit shocked that I was still in bed. Apparently I’d turned the alarm off, gone back to sleep and dreamt that I’d begun the day. I’d gone down-stairs, had my coffee, gotten to the computer, composed a few paragraphes in the lettre to the A.G. that I’ve been working on for what seems to be a good half of my life-time now. The lettre was almost complete! Had browsed me e-mails, gotten an e-mail from Nancy, I even posted to Twtr, gotten the morning off to a pretty constructive start… only to suddenly find that I’d accomplished nothing. What a shock! – It’s really quite cold in the house this morning. The thermo was set at 65F last night. I’m tired of trying to re-warm the place in the morning and the outer walls just seem to actually resist warmth. There was about ,25 tank of oil when I last checked last night. The oil delivery had better come today or I’ll be quite up the Shitz River tonight. It’s pretty much amazing: Seems no matter how low I set the thermo, the furnace keeps running just about ever 5 minutes. I put in an order for only 100gals and all I can do is hope that it covers through next month because… well… that 100gals is just about my total monthly income now. – Last night, as I went to bed, walking through this house in the dark, knowing the stairs and steps and all the rest of the place, feeling familiar with it I thought of how un-certain it is, how temporary, how it could well be ripped from under me at any given moment. The instability of this place is a constant, unconscious thought. With Silas having the financial responsibility, and seeing how he can snap from mood to mood just keeps this place even less stable than a bed in a Shelter. I know, very damned well what I “need” to do… but getting me on a financially stable foot these days is… well… it’s not. And each and every day the same shit hits me, first thing in the morning, all through the day and even to the last thought of the night: My entire existence has been so fucked by that simple bitch and her druggie accusation. It is, in the strictest sense of the term: incredible. – Time to get to the work that I completed in a dream. Hopefully the productivity in sleep was prophetic and that all will be completed today. – This morning it’s so cold in here that my fingers are actually “burning” cold. But some-how, the rest of my body is sweating. Ah… Still, there’s nothing like being back in the North Country… it’s something I wouldn’t have any other way. – 13.40 Still waiting for the oil delivery. The house has been well-heated all day because, well, I simply couldn’t stand the COLD in here all morning! Now I’m in terror… I just can’t get myself to go to the cellar to look at how much oil ISN’T in the tank! And I’m really a bit pissed because I placed the order yesterday morning and here I am, still waiting! – BUT! BUT! BUT! I FINALLY FINISHED THE LETTRE TO THE A.G.!!!!! NINE PAGES! and there are details that haven’t been included. But I believe it’s well-written and will even serve as the paper-work needed if I have to file this all on my own! Have asked Nancy if she’d look it over for me. I actually recorded me reading it (32 minutes’ worth of time just for that). I’m actually feeling ACCOMPLISHED right about now and look forward to getting on with the editing of the Journal for publication! AT LAST (cue Etta James), SOMETHING GOOD HAS COME FROM A DAY! – Now? I NEED a bit of a nap! Just some time to shut my brain down, at least partially. This has been EX-HAUSTING! (And only a 30-minute break all morning! R.E.S.P.O.N.S.I.B.L.E. ME!) – And so, as the day comes, at last, to an end… THE OIL NEVER CAME! I’m at the end of my patience for and with these in-bred idiots. Now I get to sit here, chilled through, watching the metre, thinking not in terms of “gallons” of oil but thinking about “vapours”. Yes, there’s about ,25 tank. But at the rate the furnace keeps kicking, that won’t be there for much longer. I get to sit here, in the cold, because the oil company doesn’t think me important enough. Ah yes… but they don’t have to: They already have the money for the oil. So why then, should they bother? We shall see… – Wrap-up and up the stairs… to close my eyes on yet another 24 hours. But at least I got the letters done! Now to get them into the post (after at least one more review/edit… just to be certain).

Fri.25.Jan: 7.00 I over-did the sugar before bed last night! It’s going to be a rather interesting day. – (Sat.26.Jan: 8.49) And, it was and interesting day, in a manner of speaking. Most of it was spent finishing up on the letters to the A.G. and Senate. A few e-mails back and forth: Motek and Nancy. Not a syllable from Silas… not that I expect anything from him. Although I did happen to notice that he was logged-in on his e-mail at one point during the day. (I “note” and “notice” these things, but it’s a relief to be able to say, in all honesty… I no longer give a fuck… about a great many things, if not all things.) – It was a day of keeping a close watch on the oil until, round about 13.00 or so, I rang McAllister to ask if I’d be on today’s delivery schedule. It’s been 48 hours since I rang for the order and I wasn’t at all impressed or too happy about the delay. Oh yes, he’d be here “later this afternoon”. “Later”? I wanted so much to say “Sorry? It’s been 48 hours since I first rang, asking for a delivery. How much ‘LATER’ could you possibly make it? Considering, of course, that you already have the money!” But no, not I. I rather and simply (keeping in line of the mentality of the general population of this entire State) practised the fine art of “Ego-stroking” with “Oh thank you. That would be fine. I know you must be over-whelmed, what, with the cold snap. You guys are the greatest.” and I wanted to vomit the soles of my socks. – Before the sun set, I was out the door and into what turned out to be a not-so-bad day, temperature-wise. In fact, it was really pleasant. It would have been a good day for another trip HOME. But, at this point, it was a bit too late for that. So off to the banque and on-ward to the DolGen for much-needed envelopes to get these letters out! The walk was refreshing, but, unfortunately, nothing seems to do much in the way of brightening a mood these days. It’s always the same: I do love this location, geographically, but I simply HATE (and I mean that word) this State. And it’s all taking hold to the point of truly disliking the people whom I don’t yet HATE… ALL of them. Even the sight of the license plates… green… makes my gut knot. Things are NOT “looking up”, as it were. – Anyway, I was very good in the DolGen, and got only what I truly needed and was back out and on the pavement back “into town”… Was going to be “responsible” again today, but some-how, something in my mind clicked and I decided to just let the rest of the world go shag itself for a change (instead of shagging me) and veered off into Wetherby’s for a “bolly” for ME! Then, to Mac’s for a bit of “food”. – En route to Mac’s, in that short stroll, my mood darkened even more. I don’t like going into that store. The selection is complete shit, the prices are ridiculous, especially for this town. The whole experience is depressing. But, I managed. – The walk back (with a stop at Mayhew’s for smokes) was a little up-lifting… the Missisquoi is really freezing-up! It’s been cold enough to freeze moving water! And it looks so “Winter” now. The ice on the river an the snap in the air actually did bring me out of the other-wise dismal darkness that is now my daily “life”. – Meanwhile, back at the ranch, it was only about 15.30 when I walked up onto the front porch and saw the receipt in the post-box: THE OIL HAD FINALLY BEEN DELIVERED! BUT… I’d asked for 100gals. knowing that that would leave me with a bit of a credit left for the end of next month. I’ve been figuring on that, planning on leaving a bit of a credit on the account so that when it came time for the next delivery, it wouldn’t be so much cash for me to add on. AH, BUT LEAVE IT TO VERMONT! THE BLOODY RECTAL FISSURES DUMPED THE ENTIRE BALANCE OF MY CREDIT INTO THE TANK WITH THIS DELIVERY!!!!! AND, THEY INCREASED THE COST PER GALLON!!!!! DUMPED AN EXTRA 34.9 GALLONS INTO THE TANK AND WIPED MY CREDIT COMPLETELY OUT!!!!! MY PLANNED BACK-UP IS GONE!!! WHY? Well… it’s done. No sense asking “Why?”. So now I get to spend the next 30 days or so, watching every single degree on the thermo, every single drop and vapour of oil in the tank. “Yes,” I though, “this is January and this delivery might hold through the month of February, which will bring us into March when the weather should become just a touch warmer and require less heating… BUT, the fact of the matter is that February is usually when the COLDEST days of Winter settle in. The ground is bitter-cold from all of the previous cold snaps and it’s holding on to the last bastions of Winter. There are MORE bitter days and nights to come and now, I need to hang onto 100$/week out of my 125$/week income!” WELL!!!!! It’s not so much the matter of having the extra oil in the tank; it’s the thought that I specifically ordered 100gals and THEY decided, with-out asking ME, the customer, to simply dump ALL of the remaining credit! They have the money and essentially, they TOOK it! Just TOOK it! Fuck ME! I’m only a source of THEIR income, a few dollars in THEIR pockets! It immediately became part of the very thing I was accused of at Days Inn! THIEVERY! And, knowing the collective retarded mentality that I’m dealing with here, I consoled myself by regarding it as being an employee in an institution: I, and the precious few with a properly functioning brain, synapses properly firing (OK, for the most part anyway) must remain as sane as possible, and “PITY” (a word that I associate with the ultimate degradation of another human-being) these in-breeds, these bastards. No sense in thrashing about at them. They’re actually, physically, organically incapable of understanding. So, since McAllister isn’t the ONLY supplier in the area, I now have about a month to find some-where else to bring my business to… and so that is what I got to, the beginning of compiling a list of other suppliers to check into in the coming weeks. The end. – I put some left-overs into the micro-wave, a pot pie into the oven and decided: this was the “end” of this day… this was “meal”-time, and so, that pretty much wrapped it all up. The letters are done, printed and ready to post. Next item on the agenda is to edit the NYC8539266 and… as an “on the side”, I’ve a shit-load of Enya music (reminders of the good days and Viv) to sort through and try to get onto the iPod… before Silas returns. – And that was how the rest of the evening went until round about 20.00 when I simply shit-down, mentally, and decided to watch a few more episodes of “A Bit of Fry and Laurie” and simply let the brain rot. (I had a vodka-tonic… at 16.00 today! NOT a “good” sign, but a perfect indication of what the day’s mood has been.) – Tonight, as the day disappeared on me and I got into the organisation of music, browsed about Twtr and such, a thought came to me, to bring me further down in the miasma that is my mood: I sit here in a constant state of wondering whether or not Silas will be coming in. I rush through using the computer so that I won’t be in his way whilst he’s here. I pound an hour’s worth of work into moments, resent the total absence of communication and consideration. And even when it gets to the very late hours of the day, early hours of the morning, I still can’t be certain. When it gets to about 22.30 or so, and I’m tired, I can’t help but wonder if I won’t go up-stairs, get into bed, drift off into sleep, only to be rudely awakened by the stomping and the rumbling of the doors and such. The price to be paid for… what-ever the fuck this all is. – At about mid-night, I finally got to the point where it was THE time to END this “day”. The computer went to “sleep”, the lights went out and I climbed the stairs to my little room, tossed things about in no particular order, slightly straightened the bed-clothes (I don’t even care about the condition of the house at all these days) and… “click”, the final light went out and so did Friday, 25.Jan.

Sat.26.Jan: 9.43 I woke, on my own, at about 7.00 this morning. Another chilly day. Sun-shine. Breeze. And I need to get out of here and get these letters posted! – 10.59 And as of 10.40 this morning, DECLARATION OF WAR! The letters to the Attorney General and Senator Sanders are in the post! AT LAST! (cue Etta James). Now, to sit and wait for the replies: “Gee. Sorry. You’re fucked. Cigarette?” No, I’m not expecting this State to do a bloody damned bit of shit for me. But, there’s that ethic: Better to try and fail than to fail because of having done nothing. – My day… begins. – Wow this day, like most, just slipped right by! Not that I spend much time doing “nothing”. Seems there’s always a lot I want to get done no matter what, and just never enough time to do it all. OK. So it’s “busy” stuff that means nothing to anybody but me, for the most part. But… it really doesn’t matter, what others may think. I have a lot of time to ponder just how many people are here with me, how many people make sure I can get to the places I need to be, how many people put food in the house, clean the place, clear the drive, make sure there’s oil in the furnace, help me keep what little I have in life in storage, and above all, just how many have promised to help me get my things from storage and the fact that it’s all still there and I still have to worry when the company sends “Auction” notices. So? So. – I did manage to clear the music files off of Silas’ computer today. Found a couple more tunes that I’d wanted a few months ago but weren’t available. Odd, but I have an iPod full of music now and I don’t get to listen to it. When I go HOME, I don’t want to block the sounds of tranquillity as I walk. When I’m round the house, there’s no way to listen other than with the ear-buds and I don’t like not being able to hear the bumps’n’thumps, and I’m always listening to make sure the boiler’s not making strange noises. So… music? Alas. – It was a day of precious little communication. But then, that’s probably for the best. – Today’s “meal” was 4 franks from the freezer, nuked to death. Why I include that, I’ve no idea. But I’ll leave it in anyway. – Thank goodness for “Fry and Laurie” though… even though they kept me up until almost 2.00. But it’s a relief to get away from the realities of wondering how to cover the expenses coming: another electric bill, STORAGE, and trying to figure how the hell I’m going to “live” on 25$/week for at least the next 4 weeks to make sure there’s money for heating come mid-February. And thinking that I truly need to get into Jericho to the P.O. but there’s no way other than walking into St. Albans (OK. 30 miles there) for the bus into Burlington, taking the bus out to Essex and walking into Jericho (another 20-some miles). The constant thoughts that HAVE to be pushed to the side for at least a few moments each day. “Fry and Laurie”… solution. – That said… this day is a “rap”… swift and to the side of the head.

Sun.27.Jan: 7.59 I don’t know what time it was or what actually woke me this morning before day-light but as I laid on the cot and opened my eyes, I was looking out the West window and into one of the most impressive sights of the moon! Huge and brilliant against an deep indigo sky! Almost incredible! I wanted to get up and stay awake just to watch it, but… BANG! The very next thing I knew, it was 7.30, the moon was gone and I was still on the cot, just waking for the day. OK. So another night of only about 5 hours’ sleep. Ah… the insomnia is returning.- The house was “snappy cold”. But I can’t afford having the furnace kicking-up all night. Must to conserve the oil now. Must, must, must. But I just don’t know if it’s a good idea to turn the thermo down much lower than 58F. Well… it’s coming to the point where that’s what’s going to be… soon. – Tummy cramps to knock a hefty heifer unconscious this morning. No clue where THAT came from! But, I put them aside and came down to the computer, popped off an e-mail or so to SB and Nancy and got into the editing thing. But concentration is at a minimum for the most part today. Thoughts just run amok, mostly to storage, the electric bill (can’t run the electric heaters either now), how to get to the P.O. for waiting tax forms, and the likes. – 16.30 and another day goes down the drain. I can’t believe how much I’ve NOT accomplished today, save completing the form for the “review” on my “status” for food stamps and such. Oh, and filing my chomage for another week. Makes me want to puke! This reliance on such shit! The only… ONLY… consolation is the 24 years of no Fed tax return, all based on their bull-shit. Looks like I’m just getting back some of those 5 and 600$ “refunds” I was due and never got. Not that that makes it any easier. – The sun’s already heading down over in NY. Soon, “night” will be here again. I need to get things wrapped up. I’d promised I’d do a wash or 2 today. Didn’t. But I DID get the floors done! OK then! In a bit, I’ll have to pop out for a few meager provisions. And I wonder if I’ll hear from SB at all. I sent a rather apologetic e-mail this morning. I wonder if I make him feel SO miserable when he comes to the house that he intentionally avoids coming. I try to be as welcoming as possible, try to have the entire house in order, try to make it a place where he can come to have time to himself that I know he doesn’t have much of these days. I’ve learned (well… yes… learned) how to be “affectionate” (against my will and personality) with hugs and such (since he’s always walking round saying “C’m’ere… give me a hug.” But I don’t understand. Of course, the more I think about it, the more I have to think: All those times when he brutally accused me of such evil doings; the “Order of Protection”; ignoring the fact that he’d locked me out, even after telling me that he’d get a key for me; the business about the lap-top, how he attacked me in texts and e-mails, told me he’d get me another one that would function, took the first one back and… here we are… no lap-top (a “loaned” “gift”… just like his good moods, good intentions and affections).. i should really just focus on MY matters at hand. Still, I don’t like to be to any-one as my father was to me. One of these days I’ll learn (and take my last breath and die). – Well, time to get me together and pop out before ,,, oh… just “before”… as if it makes any difference one way or the other. And, it doesn’t. – The boiler’s up again! Kriste! This oil will be gone before February comes in! Oh well… let hypothermia come quietly as I sleep.

Mon.28.Jan: 7.45 I woke, at 6.15 this morning… laughing. I don’t recall all of the dream, but I’d been talking with an older woman about how she managed to get things done: shopping, errands, bill-paying and the likes. What she said wasn’t funny at all, really. But for some reason, in the dream, it struck me as terribly funny when she smiled and said: “Why do you think I always ask people, when they come to visit me, to do something for me?” Funny? No. Not really. But I drifted out of the dream and out of sleep… actually laughing. – And that’s the start of this day. – The house is cold. The thermo set at 60F I believe. The room here is at 55F. And the very first thought of the day: Oil. – I was in bed by 23.00 last night. Got in about 30 minutes of reading and lights out. Well, OK then. Nothing on the “social media”, save a few comments from Nancy and others. Sunday night. Nancy leaves for a meeting today. And the others were getting ready for the work-week to come. – I did, for some reason, down-load several “Melanie” songs. Where that notion and mood came from, I’ll never know. But what amazed me is that I can still remember all the lyrics to so many of her songs… and I have heard ANY since she recorded the LPs. The things we CAN remember and the things we DO forget. And then there are the things I wish I could forget but pain won’t let me. It reminds me again of what Mum used to say: “In death, there is only Peace. After this, there is no Hell. THIS is Hell.” I do believe she knew exactly what she was saying. And with every passing moment in a day, I’m more, and more convinced of that. – 18.14 And the snow from this afternoon is still falling… and I haven’t made one move toward shovelling. I don’t know that I even will at this juncture since the forecast for tomorrow is warmer and Wednesday… PLUS 5! and a bit of rain. So that should take care of the little bit of snow that’s fallen and will fall tonight. Of course, tomorrow morning is expected to be frozen rain… before sun-rise. Hell! The only one using the drive is Hilary… If the snow and ice bother her so much, let her PAY to get somebody to clear the drive for her! I’m tired. – The day? The day: MOST of it has been spent editing the NYC8539266 documents. I have to say: OpenOffice is shit when it comes to “SpellCheck”. It skipped so many pages and now, as I sit here at this hour, I have to go line-by-line, manually, re-checking and re-correcting! Shit! One thing that truly pisses me off is that the computers in the NYC libraries kept changing puncuation and capitalisation! There’s a LOT of WORK in this edit! But, it will be done. That’s a guarantee. – I “phoned” Silas this afternoon. He sounds really well. He was on the route when he answered the phone. I don’t know… I keep telling him NOT to do that. But he’ll do what he wants, he’ll be punished for violating the regulations, he’ll come crying to me. Indeed. But it was good to hear his voice, to talk with him. And, well, I can be pretty sure that he won’t be running up to the house any time too soon. Not that I mind too terribly. But it’s getting a bit “big” and “empty” in here of late. I must admit that. – Now, the house is rather very cold. The furnace has been kicking up so often during the day and, franchement, I’m bloody scared sick about running low on oil again! There’s no way I can afford even a 5-gallon delivery at this juncture! Yes, I foresee some days of sitting here, bitterly freezing. Indeed, I do see that. And the 3 little heaters in the house won’t do a damned thing to keep this place warm enough to survive. But… if all goes that way, I have to resources to hasten… HOME. – OK. I MUST get up and get out of here for a brief moment and I should see what there is in this place to “eat”? I’m not at all hungry, but my fingers are stiff from the cold and I could use a bite and a break. – “Meal” tonight consisted of the 4 franks from the freezer and a bowl of mixed vegetables. No dessert because I didn’t get round to getting to the market. I just don’t have the incentive to go there. But I did get out into the ever-accumulating snow, for a bit of a jaunt to Mayhew’s. It’s very, very crisp tonight. The snow is dry, from the cold. And there’s quite a bit of it already and it’s still falling. But… I just don’t have what it takes to get out there with the shovel and clear the drive. So, let’s just hope the weather forecast is correct and that temperatures actually do rise above the freeze by Wednesday. Other-wise, there’s going to be quite the mess. Oddly, I don’t care. – After “meal”, I put in a couple more hours of editing. It’s a mess, that Journal. And when I think of how much of it got lost when I lost the little FlashDrive! There are duplicate postings, I believe. But the one thing that truly amazes is, how often I used the word “fuk”. Indeed, those were some very angry days (and nights). And I now recall how Ann B. told J.San: “Yes, I’ve read it (the Journal) and so did my husband. It’s interesting. But he does use some colourful language… a lot.” Yes, I did. And no, I’m not taking it out. If it ever goes to print, I’ll let a publisher decide whether or not to delete. But for now, it all stays. – There’s a lot to be done with it. I thought I’d cleaned it all up before I left NYC. But all those 30 and 45 minute bits of time on computers, the travelling from boro-to-boro just wasn’t enough. And today? It’s really a shame that I don’t have the lap-top that was given/taken. It would come in quite handy now. But there… we’ve yet another cause to use the word “fuk”… noun and verb in multi-tense and form. – Tonight, a bit of time passed on the Twtr. with LAUGHS! REAL laughs. It did me quite a bit of good to get some honest laughing in, especially before going to bed. I don’t do much of that of late. I don’t do much smiling either. No talking, singing, smiling, laughing… Ah… how this Northern shift was been turned into the exact opposite of what I’d headed for with a bit of nervousness and a great deal of Hope. – Well… thermo down to 58F and it’s off to the blankets for the night. Let’s see what tomorrow’s light will hammer us with.

Tue.29.Jan: 7.58 Tired this morning. Just very tired. Not sure why. There’s a lot more snow out there this morning, and it appears Ms. Hil hasn’t gone off to work. How delightful: a day with Ms. Hil stomping about. Hopefully she’ll have the good sense to keep away from these doors down here and keep away from me. And as for the drive? It’s not getting cleared… by me. If the snow bothers her, let her pay some-one else this time round. Just don’t come to me and ask for a contribution into the cost. Poor bastards round here: they’ve no idea what nasty, dark-cloud spirit has taken hold of this part of the house. Alas… of their own creation, really. – I’m fed-up with the numbness and pain in the left hand… Ulnar compression and all. Shovelling snow from a drive I don’t’ use, and, primarily for some-one who gives no respect in any manner. Yes, it IS some fun and entertainment when I get into it (the shovelling). But right now… the thrill is gone (cue B.B. King) and, well, each time I’m out there, shoving snow hither and yon, the thought always, and with-out fail comes by: There’s been only one quick-passing, half-assed “thank you” from THE person who’s benefited most from my work; *I* was THE one who made certain that there was a shovel available BEFORE the season came full-force and *I* WALKED to the store to spend 10$ that I couldn’t really afford to get that shovel; not once has there been even a forced/false offer of a lift to the market or anywhere by any-one who uses the drive that is of no consequence to me; but I DID get to “use”, for a brief while, a “gift” of a lap-top which was then hurriedly retrieved and is now gone (“The Unintentional Gift”); now *I* have constant pain/discomfort from working diligently on making certain the grounds and house are attended, particularly in places (the drive) that are of no particular use to me… Oh, it isn’t even worth the mention here any more. – So! Teeth are brushed. Morning coffee’s done. The clock goes for 8.30 and the thermometre indicates 57F. There’s day-light out-side the windows and there are more than 300 pages of Journal to be further edited. Time to get on with… what-ever the fuk it’s called when we continue to breathe (even against better judgement and will). – 23.37 And awake too much later than I’d wanted to be awake… again! But I suppose I can take comfort in knowing that I got quite a bit accomplished on the editing today. The NYC Journal is SO terribly messed-up! All those days of jumping from library to library, boro to boro, train to train, bus to bus… and the poor quality of some of the computers in some NYC libraries. Notes and entries have been tossed all over the place. This is turning into harder work than I’d hoped and expected. But, I can’t say that I don’t have the “time”. And, from time-to-time, a thought strikes me: Living alone in an old Victorian house, in a remote little, dead village in Vermont… to become and author. Wouldn’t that just be the kick in the nuts though? Admittedly, it does keep me going… if for no other reason: the amusement factor. Honestly, I have to wonder: who would be interested in such a book? The guys at the Shelter all supported me so much when they heard I was keeping a Journal of the experience. Aziz wanted to make it a “Reality TV Show”. (I wonder how he is these days. Another cause for gut-wrenching tears. I do miss him. But then, I miss some of the guys from those days. The ones who be-friended were TRUE “Friends” in every sense of the word. And now? Now I’m out of that environment and in the rest of the world… and it’s disappointing at best.) ANYwayyyy…. – The house was almost bitter all day. Almost impossible to take the cold out of the walls. And all I do at every moment is worry about how much oil is disappearing. Every time the furnace kicked-up today, I jumped to turn the thermo down a degree! I tried to programme the damned thing, but I just can’t figure it all out. So, it’s “manual” operations. Probably better anyway. Thankfully, tomorrow is expected to be well above freezing… and, of course, with a bit of rain thrown in. Probably to keep me from taking a stroll up to Sutton. And there are things I need from up there too! – Speaking of which: Today I baked… “Heunle” (or that’s how I’d guess it’s spelled). They didn’t turn out half bad, but they didn’t turn out the way they used to. I did them more to have something sweet to have after dinner (ah… dinner… 2 baked potatoes with cheese… that’s it). And, of course, to put a little warmth into the house as well. Sadly, I didn’t enjoy baking them today. I used to LOVE baking them, listening to German music, letting my mind wander through all sorts of wonderful memories. But today, some-how, that didn’t happen. – When I think about it: the old music doesn’t give me those little “pangs” it used to. Not even the old German music I have on the iPod. Today’s baking didn’t bring the souvenirs it used to. Things just don’t “strike” or “settle” like years past. It really is as if my “heart” is close to dead. Just too much over the years… just too much. Oh well. “I’ve got my ticket to ride, and I don’t care.” – Not a word from anybody all day today. No e-mails, calls, twits. Just me, myself, I (cue Joan Armatrading). But, when I think more on it, it’s probably for the better that way. – Tomorrow I hope the damned chomage is in the account! I NEED to pay the storage! (I need to pay MORE too, but that’s not happening tomorrow.) – 23.53 and the damned furnace is up again! Time to kick it down a few more notches and head up to the cot and hopefully to a night’s sleep. – Well? Another day… shot right the fukall to Hell. At least there’s continuity in this existence.

Wed.30.Jan: 16.39 And the windows are just getting shut. It was THAT warm toady. Of course, it’s gone DOWN to 13C and tonight’s low if forecast to be only 7C … by Friday, max. MINUS 12 again. Ah… then comes February… and no bloody oil no bloody doubt. But for today, the warmth was rather welcome and the windows got open for a few hours. – This morning began at 7.30. I wasn’t too thrilled about that, considering I prefer being UP and out of cot by 6.00 at the very latest. But it was a late night (early morning?) last. Still, this morning was almost incredibly productive! I hit the computer by about 7.45 and worked… WORKED on the edit, right through until just about 12.30! That journal is really a mess!!! SO much is lost or missing. But I managed to make sense of what’s there, at last, and it’s looking rather “work-able” at this point. A few more checks on what’s actually ON the Journal and it’ll be time to get to the actual “WRITING”! There’s a part of me that’s truly excited and another that’s a bit afraid of doing this. Just from the bits I’ve already read during this Phase I edit, it brings back a LOT of memories… some, I don’t want to recall because they’re just evil. But there are the others, the truly and honestly wonderful times in that Shelter. And it all leads back to one very important point: There we were, 850-plus men, from all sorts of lives and cultures and such, in a Shelter for the Homeless. Those of us who were there legitimately had nothing but what could fit into a locker (or, in the case of Charles… what fit in the locker and what could be shoved under a bed, and what could be strewn about the floor and not be stolen). We did everything we had to do and everything we could do to survive… from day-to-day and moment-to-moment. Promises made were promises kept, for the most part. Yes, there were promises made that couldn’t be kept and, it didn’t take long to realise the difference. But the one most interesting thing I recall: there was some kind of deep-rooted respect for the dignity of the other person… amongst the “Residents” (or “clients”, as the CaseWorkers insisted upon calling us in their condescending tone – which was, most often, necessary and more often a matter of protocol). For the most part, we knew WHO and WHAT we were… just bits of tossed humanity, not worth the effort of family or so-called “friends” to lend a hand. Rejects, even in the eyes of the total strangers we encountered when we left the Shelter. We were a sort of “Societal Shit” in the eyes of those who didn’t know and wouldn’t bother trying to know anything about any of us. I know I can’t go back to “those” days. I learned that the hard way when I tried. But I’ll always have those memories of those days, I’ll have the strength they gave, the lessons they taught. I’ll have the comfort of remembering how many of those guys appreciated every thing I did for any of them, no matter how small. And I’ll have the comfort of remembering how much they did for me, in their own ways. It’ll comfort, and it’ll hurt. And these days here, and now, will always make me ask “Why the fuk didn’t you just STAY there longer?” and “WHY OH WHY THE FUK did you take the word of somebody you truly doubted to pack it up and in and come to THIS misery?” Oh well… those are the bits that make existence what it is… existence. – I was rather a bit shocked when I finally looked at the clock and saw that it was after 12.30 as I was wrapping-up the current part of the edit. I’d been working, almost straight through with only a couple of breaks for potty and coffee. But I was rather proud of me as well. So I celebrated with a nice hot coffee, an episode of “A Bit of Fry and Laurie” and then… To out-of-the-house business. – All morning, I hadn’t been feeling all too well today. Just truly run-down, spiritually listless, foggy, groggy, strange. But I got me together and headed for the shower, hoping that would make me feel a bit better. It didn’t. But I went along… the old “KADIMA!” philosophy. The shower felt good, I must admit. Nice to be “clean” for a change. And then to get dressed, as opposed to just throwing something on for the sake of trying to appear as something resembling “human”. – But then… I went to put a cap on and check in the mirror and… JEEZUSKRISTE! My temples have sunken so deeply that it’s disgusting to look at! Weight is slipping away rapidly these days. Of course, I know why (no eating), but the truth of the matter is: I’m not going to do anything to change anything, really. All too simply put: I don’t care enough to. So, on with the sweat-shirts and jacket and head out the door to… – IT WAS SO WARM! Back into the house to leave the jacket and away… “into town”, as it were. Odd, really, but rather common-place: The temperature rises to 13C and, after all these past days of -20’s, this feels absolutely “Tropical”. – So it was a stroll to the banque to pull the “weekly allotment” of cash, across the street to the post office to rid my-self of the “weekly allotment” and pay the storage bill for February. It’s rather sad: Every month when I pay that bill it serves as a regular, monthly reminder of empty promises and down-right LIES. Right from the beginning, over a year ago, there were promises and plans, actual plans, of getting down to Queens to get those things from storage. There was all the talk about being able to save that 50$ each month by bringing the bits of my life up here to be with me. There are clothes and such that I could certainly use here. There are bits of all sorts of things that I could have been using, contributing to this house to make it feel a bit more like a place where I “live”. And all through this passed time, there have been repeated promises and plans, just like the first. And today? Here I am, strolling about, pulling almost half of my entire income, and still paying on that storage, some 623km away. Every month… the reminder of my exact value/worth to others. Blatant statements, indeed. – So, it was down to the market for something to eat and a couple of things to have in the house for what-ever reason. Mac’s. Market of shit choices and high prices. Cereal, milk, rolls… and too much cost. But there are “things” in the house now… how “responsible” of me. Eh? – And back up the hill to the home. – WOAH! The fridge truly got to me this afternoon! It did, as I’ve said, smell as if an egg had hatched and the chicken died in there. SOooo… It was a matter of taking everything out (mostly bottles of various hot-sauces… not mine, and thankfully, not much else), washing the interior with a bit of bleach, AND washing the jars and bottles and containers. I still don’t know exactly what it was that stunk so, but the damned thing is CLEAN! Let’s see how long that lasts (of course, with me being the only one in the house to use it…) Whilst that was being accomplished, I secured a few nails in the wall, hung a few pots and pans and such (believe it or not, I do that NOT for me, but for Silas, since he’s the one who enjoys cooking… when he’s here) and the “event” of the day was done. HOWEVER… A DISCOVERY! For the longest while, the cup-board under the sink has retained some musty, damp stench and I just couldn’t quite find the cause… until today: The kitchen sink isn’t sealed into the counter-top!!! So… when wet dishes are placed on the counter, or any water splashes on it… RIGHT down into the cup-board! WET WET WET!!! It pisses me off so much to think that Don rather “sold” this place to Silas as such a bargain and a place that he takes so much interest in and has put so much work into! Bloodyfukking liar, that one. So, I ponder whether or not I want to invest in sealing it m’self or simply letting it go. (I’m looking more into the “letting it go”… I don’t care.) – “Meal” of 2 pot-pies at 17.30 and a bit more editing and I got STUCK! “Stephen Fry In America”. There were only (ONLY?) several instalments in the series so I started to watch. But I got SO engrossed in the first 2 that I couldn’t stop watching! What a wonderful presentation! I particularly appreciated the fact that he merely popped into Vermont (Ben and Jerry’s and that was IT! HAH! Fukking Vermont!) BUT… when he got to New York? He stopped into MIDDLE VILLAGE! and I just about SOBBED aloud! FUKME! I really DO miss the place! I have to say though, the presentation really IS quite magnificent. In only a few episodes, he covered all 50 states and so realistically. The “good”, the “miserable” of this country. And all the while, I just couldn’t stop watching until…. the whole thing came to an end and, well… so too did this day and date. – One note: It’s been rather good… I’m back down to less than a half-pack of cigarettes! May THAT continue (but I doubt it).

Thu.31.Jan: 9-bleating-53 in the morning! OK, so I go terribly caught-up in the presentation “Stephen Fry In America” last night. It began with one episode… but since it was a bit of a “mini series”, I couldn’t just watch a bit and save the rest for later. I was, as they say, “riveted”… until almost 2.00 this morning! Then, I wasn’t really tired enough to sleep, when I went up to cot. So I read… until 3.00 this morning! Well! There won’t be much more of THAT happening again. I don’t like waking at 9.30 in the morning. And I certainly don’t like getting a start to the day at this hour… even if it IS raining and there’s no-where to go, and no way to get there. – This morning though, I have to mention: I don’t, some-how, feel “right” being in this house. It’s the end of the month and the beginning of a new month. And here I am, essentially “Homeless” again. It’s all “borrowed time” really. My “shelter against the elements” isn’t “mine”, and it teeters on the moods of some-one else. I can’t help but wonder why and how Silas can be “OK” with this arrangement: He’s down there in S. Burlington every day, going on an entire month, whilst he pays the bills for utilities and Internet up here, in a house he never gets to spend any time in. I can’t help but believe that his mommies are using every available moment to fill his head with all sorts of negatives against me. I’m quite certain they are. They’re just that kind of people, I imagine. Yes, of course, there’s the whole bit about how his mother is a bit of a social “freak” (in more respects than just one) and the whole history of his conception. Put her into proper perspective amongst civil society. But that doesn’t stop the possibilities of having all sorts of poison being introduced to him. And he, though a sweet little character, can be prone to mood snaps and I’m equally certain that there are things being said that will lodge in his psyche… One of these days I suspect and expect he’ll come thrashing through the door and the demand to vacate will come with. It’s all so unstable. And this morning, it bothers me… disgustingly. – Well, time to get back to “work”. If my suspicions ever prove true, there’ll be this account, these “Journals”. – 11.54 and precious little accomplished this morning. But the WIND is BURTAL!!! There’s precious little snow left. It looks more like late March than the end of January out there. But that wind? Truly and surely and certainly the beginning of a sudden SNAP back into the frozen days. February is… well… just about here and THAT will be THE END!!! – The house isn’t all too chilly… amazingly, although my fingers are rather chilled (and I notice that when my hands are uncomfortably cold, the Ulnar Compression-pain is gone… Solution to the prob: FREEZE MY HANDS PERMANENTLY?) – One other note… for the past 3 days now, I blow my nose and there’s blood on the tissue. Gee… I wonder what THAT’S about. Eh? Not worth thinking about though. Truly? WHO the fuk cares? Certainly not me. – Since I haven’t accomplished anything this morning with the editing, it’s now time to get to that. No “lunch” or “coffee” breaks THIS day! – 20.19 and… TAH DAH! It looks like the first round of editing on the Journal is complete! Everything that managed to get on-line is now “off-line” and ready to be “arranged” and grammar-checked (and not by the soft-ware on this computer… since that doesn’t exist anyway). I still need the books, the original “manuscript” as it were. I can’t believe that there are MONTHS where NOTHING was written at all! It’s GOT to be in the books! But, of course, the books are in storage, and storage is well… I’ve already been through all that. The way it looks right now, tonight, (at -8C and getting colder) is that I’m going to have to try for some kind of trip… a road trip: sign on my back, thumb in the air. There are things in NYC that i truly NEED right now and since I can depend on absolutely not one suck-arse round here anywhere… I’ll just have to do it my-self. THIS is going to be interesting. The weather’s not going to get any “better” for travel, neither is the income. So either I do it NOW or… I just don’t do it at all. – The rest of the day was… well… I did get out, did take a stroll to DolGen. *I* had to get some sealant for the kitchen sink. Yet ANOTHER bit of “improvement” round this place for which there will be no acknowledgement (I certainly don’t expect “Thanks”!). I don’t know if the stuff I got will work. But it’s there and the job is “done” as far as I’m concerned. – “Dinner”? Left-over chicken on a roll. And a couple of National Geographic films. – Right now, I’m planning on getting under the blankets for the night in about an hour’s time. The house is cooling rapidly, the thermo’s set at about 60F and I’m a bit annoyed with having to sit here with the hood on my head to keep warm(ish). Besides, it was another day with-out a “nap” and I don’t want to do what I did yesterday: simply pass out dead asleep for an hour or so and have to be wide awake at 2.00 again. – There was a quick e-mail from Silas this evening: “I’ll be stopping in to say hi tomorrow hopefully if I finish the route soon enough. They have me working friday, saturday and monday, and I’m TAing at Teddy on sunday -.-. Today was the closest thing I had to a day off, and I work 4 – 11 at Teddy -,- … But oh, I had enough time to eat and shit so thats good news.” I can’t be certain if that’s supposed to be a sincere message, a snarky message, a sarcastic message or… Shameful bit is that it strikes me as just nasty (under-tones). But that might just be my own interpretation. No matter. The reason he’ll be up here tomorrow is to pay the rent. Really. Fine. What he doesn’t understand, and he doesn’t know (and nobody else would understand) is the sickness and pain this all causes me all the time. It’s just the way Life goes for me: I busted my all to help him in every way I could to see to it that he got a job, and at a time when he was so down on himself that he cried. I put myself out to spend time with him, to drive in from Jericho to Shelburne to meet him, to drive round to places to talk about things, to do his CV and cover-letters. AH HA! But the last time I made mention of it all (when he was down on his accomplishments and such again), what was I told? “So many people helped me with my résumé….”! WHAT? Yes, and SO many people went round with you to get applications and do interviews and… You know? It’ just isn’t worth thinking about it all any more. And I don’t know why I even bother… This is how it is, this is how it will be. And anything I mention about it all will be perceived by others as simply “whining”. Well. That’s that. – For now, I need to get the house together a bit before bed, make certain that I get to sleep at a regular hour. Tomorrow is Friday. There’s house-work to be done and all for the week-end so that I can just sit back and enjoy the surroundings to the best of my ability. – At least the Journal is coming along. –