I don’t think your ability to fight has anything to do with how big you are.
It’s to do with how much anger is in you.”
Amy Winehouse

Fri.1.Feb.2013: 0.10 Another night when the insomnia strikes! – February, the month when Winter usually strikes with all of its might. I don’t dare go to the cellar to look at the oil… not before trying to go to sleep tonight. This month I begin “living” on 25$/week and hoping this oil lasts until the 27th. It’s going to be quite interesting. – There’s a buzz on Twtr: a “Homeless Count”. “COUNT”? Yes, indeed. Governments get morons to go out to the streets and “count” how many people are “living”, residing, existing with-out a place to go to. Then the morons take their little clip-board tallies to the government who then decided how much tax money will be dedicated to support those organisations that do absolutely nothing to “help” the Homeless but pride themselves on “studying” the Homeless. Times like these make me quite content to be as old as I am… and that much closer to death… either by personal choice or time. “Humanity”, as I’ve said for many years, has truly out-lived its usefulness in Creation. – On that note, I hope Nancy’s “Nighty Night” tea takes when I put my head on the pillow. – PS: DAMN it’s cold in this house tonight! – 7.42 And indeed, awake at 6.30 to attack the day. The garbage is out. First of the year. I don’t make much garbage. Reminds me of the community that was built, many, MANY years ago on Staten Island. It made all the news because the developers tried to attract Gay men. The claims were: Gay men tend to be “single”, with higher-paying jobs. Therefore, they have more disposable income and will see to it that they have the “finer” things in life (claim: this community was “finer”); Gay men, based on the property values of Greenwich Village, bring property values up, thus raising assessed values and taxes; Gay men have no children, therefore they pay school taxes but have no children who attend schools so they pay into the system with-out adding to the burden; and, last but not lease, Gay men generate less waste (garbage) so they’ll pay for the sanitation services without increasing the burden of collection. Ah… aren’t Gay men just wonderful? (It didn’t fly. What they failed to realise is that Gay men with all that disposable income, preferred to piss their money away in bars and clubs in a centralised social mecca… which Staten Island was not. Like-wise, Gay men do/did not like to have to travel great lengths of time from home to club to home. The clubs were in and around Greenwich Village… across the NY Harbour… which necessitated bus/taxi to ferry to subway/taxi/etc. and took about and hour or longer each way. That, and the added insult of being stereo-typed and the resulting “ACLU” and “Lambda Legal” issues… Well. So much for that venture. And my “30 gallon” bag sits at the edge of the grass-line (having no “curb”), silently, being covered by this morning’s frozen rain/bit of flurry. – That aside… I have things I want to accomplish this morning, like house-cleaning. I know what it is that I feel I “must” and “should” be doing right about now, but for some reason, my body refuses to co-ordinate with my mind. It’s a matter of “I can’t seem to get started”. Well, it’s not as if I should be in any sort of “rush”. (a) It doesn’t take me all that long to clean the house, since I don’t really dirty it in the first place, (b) I’d like to have it clean when Silas arrives and that won’t be until he’s done with work this morning, in Shelburne, so that gives me until the later after-noon at the earliest, (c) I’m putting my eggs in the basket clearly marked “No bloody way will he even bother to top by”, and (d) the ever-popular, these days anyway: I don’t give a flying fuk what anybody says or thinks about this damned house or anything else for that matter. – So… at exactly 8.00, it’s off to the “Editing” for a bit and THEN on to the cleaning… which is merely, all considered, an extension of “Editing”, when one thinks about it. – Oh… perhaps a bit of a “chat” this morning with Motek. Hmmm…. Connections with the “Home-land”? – (Oh my fuk it’s cold in here this morning. Thermo at 60F but this house just refuses to warm!) – Well now, it’s 4.34 a.m. on Saturday and although I’m a little bit “off” the regular, and my stomach is just waiting to, well, un-do the bit of damage I did to it last, I can’t say that the 6-hour “nap” I took was for naught. (I’m going to jump down a notch here, put in this morning’s thoughts, and then return to today’s date.) – OK. 5.38 and we’re back to continue: Yes, indeed, the house got the once-over. For some reason though, today I did it in reverse… kitchen to the up-stairs! How the hell that happened is still a mystery to me. But the important thing is that it got done! – Round about noon, I took a break… skype-call with MOTEK! Kriste! He’s looking so good these days: Good weight, good palour, sounds good. He’s still got the job, is working on his own things, has the flat, Chris, Lilli and Sasha… and, of course, as Creation is evil in its essence… there’s the “other” thing. So much like Mum: when things get to going well, that’s when they all come to an end. Meanwhile, I sit here, wasting away, can’t even stand looking at myself in the mirror for the hideousness, looking forward to the moment when I can close my eyes and not open them again and my existence just drags on and on and on and… Oh well. – Shortly after the call, which was SO welcome and SO refreshing and SO just really up-lifting and appreciated, “IT” hit: I sat in the chair in Silas’ room for what was supposed to me a moment, I started to watch a bit of a show with Stephen Fry in it and have a bowl of cereal, just to put something in my stomach for energy… but, as it seems to be the “norm” of late… that sudden “wash” of fatigue! It truly is very similar to standing on the beach, just at the base of an on-coming wave: it rises rapidly but silently, and before you’re aware enough to actually take any action, it’s up in front of you, over your head and DOWN IT COMES and you find your-self surrounded by it with no way of escape. FATIGUE! and you have no choice, no option… just succumb to it, close your eyes and SLAM into sleep. I stopped the “film”, put a Cajun radio station on the computer and… for almost an hour, I sat in the chair and truly SLAMMED into a deep, very deep sleep. Thankfully it was early enough to accomplish more in the day though and that was the beginning of the end. Just for the hell of it, I checked the mail… MISTAKE! There was “The Letter”… from the Attorney General’s office: Condescending, ruthless, non-commital, another “brush-off”, more bull-shit, and exactly the same thing that’s been going on all through this night-mare that I’ve been in since the day I clicked to buy the air-line ticket to Vermont… the SHOVE-OFF! “I am very sorry to hear about your very unfortunate situation.” “You can file… It can be found here:…” “… and the State does not have the authority to…” “You should…” “You can reach them at…” “… but will exercise it only in unusual or extreme cases.” “… you should discuss with a private attorney.” SON OF A BITCH! It’s just TOO MUCH for my brain to handle! Truly. It just is TOO MUCH for my mind to even try to accept on ANY level! None of this will even come close to me. It’s actually consciously palpable, the way I can “feel” it trying to enter into my core and yet, not one bit of my “being” is able to make even the slightest bit of sense of any of it. Just being shoved away, from EVERY attempt! My entire life-time has been annihilated; there’s nothing left but smouldering ruins, and in the vision of the legal system, this is fine, OK, spiffy. It’s as if the State of Vermont sanctions and condones the infliction of pain, suffering and slow destruction on another person! It makes no sense at all! Meanwhile, the Grandfuk Shit, Mrs. Owens goes on about her daily routines, un-touched, un-scathed by any of it!? Nope! It just won’t settle anywhere in my being! I took the letter, scanned it and sent copies out to Silas, Schmulik and Nancy… just because I, alone, am so baffled by it that I NEED some kind of confirmation that I’m still even the slightest bit sane and that I’m not mis-reading this. Yes, I’ve reached the point now where I’m actually, honestly and truly questioning my own sanity about this! I can’t even trust my own thought processes any longer. It’s not that I don’t trust my thoughts… I don’t trust my own mind, the organics of my own physical brain. I’ve managed to handle and cope with and assimilate the un-founded hatred meted against me by my own father. But THIS is… I can’t even put the situation into words. So… I got me showered, dressed and did the only thing I could possibly ponder at this point. I headed out the door and “into town”. The intention? TO get a bottle of vodka and see if I couldn’t drink myself right out of existence. Alcohol poisoning. Kids in college can do it. I wondered how much it would take, and if my body would co-operate. (Of course, it didn’t and that’s how I come to journal this now. My Fate: I can’t even suffocate under a pile of pure shit!) Today, I walked out the door with the actual intent… my very essence just shut down completely, as if it had never existed. – In spite of the fact that it’s well below freezing temperatures, I didn’t feel the cold at all. I crossed the bridge into town. The river is flowing freely and swiftly again, thawed, as it is. HUGE chunks of ice have been tossed up and onto the banks. Most of them are at least 45-50cm thick! And as I crossed the bridge I thought of what it might be like to simply let myself roll over the railing and drop down, into the icy water, into the rushing current. I wondered how long it would take for hypothermia to grab hold, if it would be possible to be struck by a loose bit of ice, on the head, crushing my skull, smashing my brain. And I kept looking down at and into the water. But the river isn’t deep enough. At most, all that would happen is that I’d hit the rocks at the bottom, break some bones, be in absolute pain, and be pulled through the brief rapids and left to float the rest of the way along, experiencing the cold for the longest while… the longest while. No. I don’t deserve to suffer like that. But alcohol poisoning? Now there’s something. A bit of vomiting and … OK. That’s what it will be today… tonight… this evening. And so, in spite of the fact that I was still pondering the river even on the return trip to the house, I stopped at Mayhew’s for a pack of cigarettes, chatted with the “nice lady” for a brief while, wanting so much to simply vent, to get this shit out of my system (but knowing it wouldn’t make any difference to her… it’s not “her” situation and… she’s a Vermonter so, to her, I’d be in the wrong anyway). I got a little hungry too. So I came back to the house, put the vodka on the counter, checked Food Stamps and went back out to Mac’s where I got tonic to go with the vodka and a couple of things to eat for the night… By about 16.30 I was back in the house and was gulping the first drink… toasting to “better times tonight when I could vomit my internal organs through my face and die in a pool of my own guts”. I didn’t even bother to light the “Shabbat” candles tonight. I just don’t give a fuk about any of it any longer. Even the essence of my “Traditions” has been destroyed. I mean, even to the point where now, instead of trying to find ways of making an “honest” living, I figure it thus: Mrs. Owens can get away with inflicting all this suffering on me and, with-in the laws of the State of Vermont, as has been proved by my destroyed efforts over the past 6 months, that’s perfectly legitimate. So, it’s time I stopped thinking along the lines of the laws of the State of New York and become a “Vermonter” and behave like them… In other words… do what-ever it takes to get what I want and need… and damned everything and everybody who gets in my way. OK. Fine. That’s how it has to be for as long as I’m breathing and that’s the way it is. So be it. – Well… as the night moved on, the disappointments grew heavier. I’ve been trying to find Viv these days but there’s nothing about her anywhere on the Internet. So, I decided I’d try Twitter! A hash-tag and a couple of lines from Les BBs. I asked the “followers” to re-tweet and… just like before and just as it is with me, not one of them, not even Nancy (who didn’t appear at all through the night). I ASKED them to do that little thing for me and not one! No, but when I posted something rather funny or cute, the re-tweets came a-rolling. Fuk the lot of them! My fault really. I should know better. When it means nothing to me, the world stands at the door. When I don’t want for anything, the world stands with out-stretched arms to give… just like Liz: when I was in the basement in Nbg watching all of my few belongings rot from the water and cold, she kept bringing more and more shit. I kept telling her not to, and the shit kept rolling in. But when it came to things I needed and would have like to have? Nope. I remember bringing my favourite scarf to Erol, the kindly Jamaican man whom the DPPC put-up in the old potter’s shed… no insulation, no heat, no water, no electric. Autumn was coming in and the nights were getting cold. I gave him the large scarf that I’d made, and an oil lampe, amongst other things. He rather needed those things and I had them, so I gave. I figured: I had the basement, cold and wet as it was. I had electric and light and a small heater (though I wasn’t permitted to use any of them since Tony forbade it, but still, I had them). Poor Erol had none of these. So, I gave. But when I actually TOLD Liz not to bring me anything… I was completely dismissed, ignored. And tonight, the same thing. Well… I was on a bit of a binge anyway and simply not caring about the world and the shit in it… this just put me in a better mood to continue with my experiment to see how much more alcohol it would take to make me pass out. So I kept drinking. Good for me, I had no appetite so I didn’t bother to eat anything… save a few tortilla crisps. But then, round about 22.30 I just got SO wasted and disappointed and fed-up. I don’t know what moved me to do so, but I simply logged-out of everything, put the computer to “sleep”, got up, put out the lights and in the dark, navigated my way up the stairs to the cot. No “Shabbat” candles. No bed-side candle. No light. There was no “light” in my existence today. There’d be no light around me. And that it how this day ended… in total DESPAIR. But nobody else cares… and I will learn to not care too… not only about myself, but the rest of them as well.

Sat.2.Feb: 4.34 It’s probably a good thing that I just got up and went to cot when I did last night because the first thing I though of when I came out of the coma I fell into last night was: “The BDM is just over there on the desk and if I can get up out fro under these blankets with-out throwing up, I can get it, bring it back here, gulp it all down and quietly…. NO! That wouldn’t be fair to Silas! Imagine what this place will smell like when he comes in! And imagine the sight of it. No… that’s not right, to put him through that. Besides, it won’t do any good to die here, in Vermont, so close to HOME… I wonder what the weather’s like out there, besides “dark”. I wonder what time it is. Probably about 4. I think it was about 22.30 when I just got up and came here. Well, would you look at this: I even remember last night. So it couldn’t have been all that bad. OK. So the only thing I ate all day yesterday was a bowl of “Life” cereal (how fukked-up is THAT?) and a few tortilla crisps. I wonder just how much vodka I managed to polish off though. HEY! That’s pretty good: Nothing of concern in my system to fight against the BellaDonna and vodka! No! On BOTH accounts… NOT HERE! Not now. We just have to get things together nicely so the place is presentable and comfortable for Silas. Then, we can go HOME. “HOME”, that’s good. That’s the way. Just get the house nice and comfortable, get dressed, get out, go HOME. Yes. No fan fare. Just… go. – The immediate thought after that? Last night’s little “Twitter request”. To me, it’s the exact equivalent of being told that I’m really worth shit. Oh… when I’m all Mr. Jolly Hahah the “Favourites” and “Re-tweets” flap and fly all over the place! Oh yes indeedie-doo! When some shit-idiot puts out a request for financial support for some asinine project to give socks to the Homeless or to take a little road trip or pay a phone bill, the next thing that goes all trendy is the thanks for all the support. ME? Not even not-so-much… just… NOT. Sheets. I asked for “used” sheets. Pfit! OK. So big deal. But last night was nothing more than a simple click of the computer mouse; a simple “re-tweet” of a couple of entries and what comes of that out of 263 people allegedly “following” me? NOT ONE! Very loudly I’ve been shoved right up my own rectum. Times like this remind: “Gee, just like my father; I wasn’t shit to him either.” and “How about that lap-top that came and went?” and “How about all those promises of help to get the things out of storage.” and then there’s the reply from Motek yesterday “Get out of there and fast!” which is exactly the same as Mum telling me “You have to leave before he kills you… and he will kill you.. and think of what that’ll do to the other 3 kids… to witness their father killing their own brother.” WOOHOO! Am I ever being told! AND… the shuffle I’m getting with the law-suit: one lawyer shoves me off to another, and another off to another and another and another and now? Even the Attorney General of the State… the very same State that put me on trial, shoves me off and back DOWN the ladder to the little lawyers. Y’know, the more I think about it, the more I believe: It’s not “them”… it’s ME! I’M the completely obtuse one in all of this. Just plod along, being completely stupid, letting this all happen. I SHOULD have checked-out LOOONNNGGG ago. But no… not the old retard here. Nope. Here I am… still plodding along. – Truth of the matter? It IS my own fault. When I ask for something, no matter what it might be, I still hope that SOMEbody will think enough of me to DO something. THAT is the WHOLE problem here! When the TRUTH of ANY matter is: I should NEVER ASK FOR ANYTHING! And what I need to work on, diligently, is eliminating ALL of that stupidity and nonsense about “hope” or even the slightest expectation that SOMEthing will turn toward something, anything pleasant. Just give it all up… right to the very core. Yep. There’s my “New Year’s Resolution”: EMOTIONAL AUTONOMY. – Well! Good-morning America! – Now, back to last night… – 8.19 At 7.00, as I typed, I HAD to go have a nap. Just suddenly got SO tired! Did it do any good? No. Not really. I only half-slept and when it got to be time to get up, I just didn’t have the energy to move… not even to roll over. But, here I am. The sun is shining, my body is a wet rag, and the day has begun… again. Thermo at 58F. I’m wearing 4 sweat-shirts. And the furnace is running anyway. I need to put the electric heater at the thermo again. The oil will be gone in short order at this rate. – 22.35 And I’m wiped-out! It’s been a most horrid sort of day. I’ve had no focus, no ability to concentrate on anything for more than mere passing moments. Then, at about 6.00 I HAD to go lie down! An hour nap… awake for 2 hours… another hour nap… another 2 hours up… another hour nap. And it wasn’t just a matter of being bored, or sleepy; it was a matter of sitting anywhere and my head dropped, eyes closed. Shit. Watch me develop narcolepsy now. It wouldn’t surprise me at all. – So, as far as “doing” anything or “accomplishing” anything today? That’s pretty much a dead deal. – This afternoon I braved the cellar to check the oil tank: In just under a week, 1/4 of the tank is gone. At this rate, I’ll run out before I have enough to buy more… and before the end of the month. So, we’re looking at some kinda bitter days and nights ahead. I keep the thermo at a steady 58F now and even with that setting, the furnace keeps kicking up. But then, tonight, the sky is almost completely clear but there’s just enough humidity in the bitter cold to make the humidity freeze. The ground is covered… not with snow but with glittering ice crystals. Reminds me of the sidewalk in NYC at 33rd and 3rd, but on a much grander scale. – Heard from Nancy this morning. E-mail. It was very comforting to see from her. Nobody else seems to have the time to drop a line. As I kept thinking through the day: It puts me in my proper place. At some point, Nancy did tweet a #VL of her own. But I HAD to send an e-mail asking her to take the direct reference to me off the time line! If Joe got wind of that he might actually kill Viv! But seeing that line from Nancy on Twitter today did my heart a little JUMP! It meant SO VERY MUCH to me! (Of course, she’s the only one. Fuk the rest of them. Really. I’ll pray they all experience the same feelings I’m going through… with the blatant rejection. I have no sympathy for any of them any more. It’s all lafs with them… then… DUMP! So? may they all get fukked themselves. – So now there are a few dishes in the sink to be washed and put up. I’ve got coffee made for tomorrow. I bought ground yesterday and cook it in a pot on the stove. It’s ready for me in the morning. I can either have it at “room temperature” (equal to or colder than refrigerated) or toss it into the micro. No matter. It’s made. I can’t get to the market to buy my instant for a while and if I’m going to walk that 20-plus kilometres, I’m surely not going to walk it into Enosburgh! I don’t know that IGA has my brand, but then, there, I have to use cash… FoodStamps from Vermont are no good in Québec. Alas… Besides… with the savings budget I’m on now, I’m flat-arse broke already. It’s going to be a tough month… or more… if I’m even around for the whole thing. – OK. Time to get up from this computer and les BBs, Trois Accords and Graffiti6/Liza Manili. Dishes to do and me to get to sleep. No more of this 2.00am getting to bed! – And a useless day closes. BFD. – PS: Silas has been on-line for hours… logged into his e-mail… I receive… nothing.

Sun.3.Feb: 7.13 This morning, I woke, just before the alarm. I was smiling as I woke. The first morning thought was of the ice crystals that glittered all through the night last night. And then, I thought of the boots, the knee-high, heavy boots that Jim had sent to me some years back. They were heavy, warm, perfect for this Northern weather. And they are gone. GONE! Again, the memory of my own sister, lying to me, conniving behind my back. Telling me that “they” had arranged to put my 3-plus rooms of furnishings, my art-work, my writings, my clothing… all of it, into storage (so that it wouldn’t be damaged in her basement… she said). Ah, and then how she invited me out to breakfast … so that her husband and my youngest brother could pack the U-Haul in my absence! It wasn’t so much that they’d done that packing. It wasn’t even so much that they embarrassed me, put Chris on a spot on that Sunday morning when we showed at her door, waking her up, so that I could take the room we’d only spoken about renting. It was and still, all these years later, about the e-mail I’d sent to my “sister”, telling her that I had only Summer clothing with me and that I needed warmer clothes, “Winter” clothes, and that I’d take the train from The Bronx up to the Valley and we could get the clothes, spend the day together… and the simple “I’m so sorry…” that opened her e-mail reply. She’d… THEY’D simply not bothered to pay the storage rent… for MONTHS, contrary to what SHE has told me: “I have things I need to put in there too so I’ll be using it. Don’t worry. We’ll help you.” GONE! ALL of it. Furniture, clothes, music, everything. Gone. – As I lay in bed this morning, even before the sun started to rise, just as it’s always been through the years, every muscle in my body tensed, the whistle, the hissing in my ears came rushing in, even my heart clenched. Anger. Rage. RAGE! Betrayal. Abandonment. Deceit. Deceit. – Today, nobody knows who I used to be, what I used to be. What my life used to be. Nobody knows that I used to dress nicely… conservatively, but very nicely. I travelled, I went to “the clubs”, to the discos, to “dinners” at “No Jeans” places. I had manhattans before dinner… I enjoyed martinis in the afternoons. I lived in rather nice flats… I was fortunate in that respect. My furnishings started with those of my Grand-parents and eventually, over the years… well… I’d furnished “functional” but comfortable and very nice. I went to work… in some of the largest and most diverse companies where I help positions of some importance (and terrible wages in comparison to the job… but they paid the bills and left a bit over for a week-end “out”). I showered daily. I brushed my teeth… daily. My early adult life was quite different from my early years. I’d changed me… changed my life. I had to or my early life would have very well killed me… violently. Imagine, being thrown down cellar stairs, at an age so young that you had absolutely no memory of it, not even 50-some years later… by your father. Imagine being brutally beaten by a fist thrust at you with such power that when it missed your face, it went through not one wall, but TWO. Imagine feeling so terribly “wrong”, being TOLD that you’re a “burden” and imagine trying to push your early teen-aged body UNDER the tank, BEHIND the toilet and all the while sobbing “I CAN’T I CAN’T I CAN’T TAKE ANY MORE! PLEASE SOMEBODY HELP ME!” and having only the recollection of being told, by your mother… because YOUR brain found it all so over-whelming that it wouldn’t allow the event to be recorded. – My entire existence, right down to the moment of conception, was “wrong”… terribly wrong. But when I’d left the house of my parents, separated from “that” “family”, I re-built my own existence… and for some years, it was “right”. – THE ONLY ERROR in ALL the years of my breathing existence… THE ONLY ERROR, the ONLY thing “WRONG”: TRUST. – Now, imagine all of this being the first thought of the day… a Sunday morning in a Northern Winter, in a grand old house, in a small New England town, in the silence of the early hour. – 20.30 Well… made it through another day. It seems that that’s the “BIG Issue” any more. It’s depressing, really. I don’t much care to “make it through another day”. But, shit happens and so, it will happen here first. – It was a rather productive day though. I’ve managed to format the MYCmanuscript so that it generally appears as it would as a book. Almost 600 pages (which comes to half when printed both sides). Not too shoddy. And it’s no-where near being complete. I’m working on an “Introduction” of sorts now. Something to give just a bit of history. The “working title” is still what I’d thought of back at Tilden. After all, that’s where the “bitter-sweet” truly is… or, after the storm, perhaps “was”. But it will always be in my memory, just as it was in those days. Painful to think about up here. I almost feel that I shouldn’t even THINK about ANYTHING from New York here, for fear something in this hellish state will penetrate the thoughts and steal those away as well. Silly, really. But we can’t stop the thoughts that come to mind. – It was a “quiet” day as well. No e-mails, no phoning. I thought of ringing Bob and Lyle. I think of doing that from time to time. But when I think of it, the time doesn’t seem right. And by the time I think about it again, it seems a bit too late. Maybe there’s a reason. But in Vermont, the reason can only be shit. Just as this State is shit… worthless shit. – Silas was on-line during the day, but he too doesn’t take the time to drop a note. Tonight, as I did the dishes, made chicken soup with the remains of the roasted chicken, I wondered if he’s not being swept into a “pro Vermont” frame of mind. After all, he’s got his socials here now. Got his entire life here now. I wondered if I’m not being tossed to the side. He doesn’t make an effort to keep in contact and he certainly makes no effort to come to the house. He comes to town to pay the rent… but… just like when he was working at the P.O. here… I remember going into town and seeing his car parked at the P.O. but he wouldn’t stop by. Well, that’s the way it is. – It’s not unlike the whole Twitter thing. I still can’t seem to shake that either: When I make with the jokes and snarky lines, the “favorites” and the “retweets” just jump all over the place. When I asked for a bit of help, the whole thing went dead silent. Now, all I asked for was a simple “retweet” of a couple of posts and again… again… TOTALLY DEAD! Honestly? It so fucking pisses me off! But then I have to remember: It’s “social media” full of ego-centric, egotistic losers who probably have nothing more to their sad and sorry existences but the “social media”. They’re much like Dart, in Norwood: “If all you need me to do is write a cheque, I’m always right here; but don’t ask me to DO anything because I just don’t have the time.” I remember talking it over with J.Flood and saying how much I appreciated his straight-forward honesty. No bull-shit, that man. Unlike these obtuse, selfish bastards and bitches who “follow” me for the jokes. (((hugs))) and all that shit. Kriste! The wouldn’t know what the fuk to do about a “hug”. (Well… now that I’ve gotten that out of my system.” – Oh! TWO of the seeds from Silas’ squash have begun to sprout! I moved them from the glass jar into soil tonight! Them and most of the seeds from the little oranges from Nancy. Those don’t seem to be too happy… nothing happening there. But then, this house is so damned COLD, they’re either in hibernation or in shock. Hopefully, over time, they’ll come round too. It would be fun to have little trees from Florida… from Nancy. As for the seeds from Silas’ squash… too bad he’s not here to see it. Fukkim. – I’ve gotten so deeply into “Kingdom” these days. Stephen Fry is amazing! (He’s even on Twtr! I’m “following” him.) Inspirational… he should only know how much. Got me to thinking about “Human Rights” and that aspect of the DaysInn fiasco. It still looks like I’ll have to do ALL of the work… ALONE… but, with the book/manuscript and such, I’ll have to find time. But, tomorrow’s Monday… back to “business”. – Well, the house is dark, and quiet. Ms. Hillary will be careening into the drive at some time later, then comes her infernal pounding and thumping and moving furniture and general mayhem. What White Trash! Honestly. But, she’s just a part of the trash that is Vermont. – It’s almost amazing, just how much I’ve come to truly and unadulteratedly HATE and DESPISE this State. Last night I remembered how I used to say to Liz, “We’ll Always Have VT”. It was a goal, a destination, a place I almost learned to love in a way. Then… Now… (as Wally rumbles across the floor up-stairs… sounds like a toddler running relays… Hillary’s cat… figures) Now? I want NOTHING to do with ANY of it other than getting my restitution and taking it the FUCK OUT of here! (And I can’t even use my own “fuk” when it comes to Vermont.) Last night too I thought, as I was in the kitchen: As long as I stay IN this house, Vermont doesn’t have to exist. As long as I don’t go out of the house, I don’t have to let Vermont IN. Something I’ll work very stringently toward. All those years when I’d rent a car to travel… I’d leave the flat in NYC, get into the car and BOLT NORTH! Well, here I can walk out the door and BOLT NORTH! HOME! I don’t have to talk with anybody en route, I don’t have to see anybody. Just GO! And, if the weather co-operates this week… so I shall. It’ll be good to get back HOME for a few hours… Even if just to walk along the road, on the soil, breathe the air, see the skies of HOME, read the road signs. – So as I was saying, the house is dark, quiet. It’s not too cold in here tonight, but I think it’s more that I’m adjusting to the bitterness. In about an hour I’ll be up-stairs again, under the covers. Tomorrow is another day and I have LOTS of work to do on the book… and that book WILL become a BOOK! It NEEDS to get published and out there. Lord knows, it does no good at this point. Apathetic jack-asses and all. – Enough. Let’s post and call it… DONE!

Mon.4.Feb 7.00 I woke, this morning, to yet another beautiful snow-fall. How charming. (How sarcastic.) But, as I lay on the cot, waiting for the 6.30 alarm, half-dozing, I had the most wonderful olfactory hallucination! Something “European”. A mixture of the scent of the Adidas fragrance from Frankfurt in ’86 (the Tel Aviv trip) and a Nivea men’s fragrance. Strong! As if the entire room had been doused. It was truly wonderful. It lasted for a good 60-90 seconds and then… gone. It certainly isn’t me. Nor is it my bed-clothes, which need to be washed at some point during today I believe. But quite a wonderful way to begin a day. – Then, I’ll note here, the realisation of this morning: All week-end I’ve had the phone number for Legal Aid up on the computer screen as a reminder to ring them this morning about this Days Inn shit. But this morning, I recalled having gone to them with the situation on Clearwater… This morning I remember being told they deal ONLY with evicted tenants and they deal ONLY with putting evicted tenants back into their homes/flats/apartments! They DO NOT handle ANY cases that have ANYthing to do with money. Utterly useless group. Truly, honestly and quite certainly USELESS. Just like just about EVERYTHING in this cesspool called “Vermont”. So, this morning, I’m back to square 1, the beginning, the start. Empty slate. New note-book. With nothing. Just as it’s been all along in Vermont. NOTHING! – Well, so, it’s after 7.00 and there’s a book to be worked on. And who knows? There just might be another one in the works as well… or, at the very least, a short story… for publication… mayhaps in “blog” form this time. I have the letter to the A.G. to work with on that. Yes, I do believe… – 18.03 The day’s drawn to a close. Sun’s gone down. Dark out-side the window. The snow that fell this morning… well… it was so cold today that there’s almost no moisture to it at all. I had to run out this afternoon. Brought the shovel thinking I’d have to dig my way across the walk. Powder. Pure powder. The wind rather cleared the back yard. But of course, as usual, it blew the snow some 15cm deep along the rest of the drive. Ms. Hillary came in at about 15.40, STOMPING her way up her steps. Probably pissed because of the accumulated snow. I hadn’t bothered at all to shovel anything. I don’t care. About the snow, about the drive, about her, about what’s to be said (if it hasn’t been said already). I don’t care. – The book is getting ever more involved now. Seems the “Introduction” is turning into a book of it’s own. There more I want to say, the more I want to say. And now it’s actually becoming part of the daily existence… it’s become my “work”. I’m actually beginning to feel like “an author”. In some desolate, dead, New England town, left alone… very much alone. I’m writing… a book. Imagine that. I’s a book all of it’s own. And that too is becoming a thought: A book about the truth about all of what’s happened since I left the comfort of the city I knew, the comfort of the place-familiar, the people I’m accustomed to, to come here, to this god-awful, god-forsaken land of hypocrisy and lies and slander and destruction. Two books, simultaneously. – I filed for the 88$ that Dianne Owens, Ms. Days Inn of Shelburne Vermont has failed to pay me for a day’s work. Filed with the Dept. of Labour. I doubt that I’ll get the money. I’m positive, beyond any doubt that Vermont will find a way to find me “un-worthy” of the money. I’m not looking forward to receiving it. I am looking forward to making the “new” book… an “e-book”… available on-line… FREE! I’m despondent right now… in the truest sense of the term. And I simply don’t care about what consequences may or may not arise. It makes no difference one way or the other at this point. So, if it’s fine by the law, the very same law that couldn’t find cause to bring me to trial, to say what one will and destroy a life, then I shall avail myself of that same law. – It’s interesting this evening, how easily people can toss other people away, ignore, abandon them, leave them very much alone. I never thought I’d experience that here, in this house, with all that preceded coming here. No calls. No arrangements for calls. No e-mails. No correspondence at all. Complete avoidance. I’ve become non-existent. And it’s happened so easily… for others. I suppose I should be grateful, really. It gives me that “romantic solitude” to concentrate on “my book”. Time and space to “create”. It gives me time to realise just how alone I actually am and just how little difference I make in the general scheme of things. It gives me time to actually be confronted by and with the reality of my existence… the totality of it. It gives me the time to actually see, hear, smell, feel, and considering I just toss “stuff” together at a last moment to kill the cramps and churning in my gut and call it “meal”… I suppose I can even “taste” it all. In all the years of New York, there were more times when I’d lock myself in at home, getting into all sorts of work, “busy” and other-wise. I could hole-up, as it were, for days on end… but eventually, somebody would come round, knock on the door, give a call, send a message. Here, that’s not the case. – I’ve noticed that the circulation in the pinky on the left hand seems to be considerably constricted. I don’t think it’s the “Ulnar” thing. Even when the other 4 fingers on that hand are rather warm, that finger is like ice. The fingers on the left hand are always much colder than the right. Circulation. Constriction. Oh well. – I’m noticing those nasty, ugly, brown spots on my fore-head as well… the ones stale, gaggy-stale smelling old men get. It’s really rather disgusting. – It all helps to put things in perspective, in their proper place, putting me in my proper place… I don’t have one… not here anyway. No place. Just “be” on a moment-to-moment basis. – One of these days, I don’t know exactly when, but soon, I’ll do all a great favour… just walk out the door and go. I’ll make sure the house is in perfect order, of course. But I know the “how”, and I know the rest. Every now and again I just think about pouring the BDM into the one wine glass in the house, sitting back, drinking it along with the vegetation that’s in the jar. It’s all so quick and easy, really. No fanfare. No major preparation. Just pour and serve. My research shows that I’d have enough time to stroll comfortably HOME. This time I know I won’t make it to Montréal… but the truth is: it doesn’t have to be Montréal… no matter what city, town, village, canton… it’ll ALL be HOME. And that’s what counts. I don’t HAVE to find Viv. Fukkall knows that’s not a realistic goal. And from the support I get in my search, I have to let that go. But, if she’s still HOME, I’ll be “back”. That’s good enough. – Anyway, it’s time to put a wrap on this day. There’s a bit of chicken soup left to be heated. A few dishes in the sink. The house is dark. I don’t even bother to open the blinds in the morning, and don’t bother to put on the lights in the evening. No sense. – 21.38 SILAS CAME BY TONIGHT!!! Poor kid is SO drawn-down from all the working. Starts at 7.00 and often doesn’t finish with the 2 jobs until almost mid-night… 4-6 days a week! BUT TONIGHT’S VERMONT BULL-SHIT:
He drove all the way up here to pay the rent… Got talking with Donald E. Burns (of Richford VT), the landlord… scum-bucket, is what I should say… and, well, as Silas put it “You had him pegged right away.” Seems Mr. Burns, the one who told Silas that he would “hold him to the lease” (meaning, he’d sue Silas for the balance through August 2013) just had the fucking BALLS to say “I’m thinking of putting the place on the market.” He told Silas that he wouldn’t do it until the warmer weather comes though.”Oh yes” says Mr. Burns, “I can break the lease any time I want to.” (The royal fuck about it is: In this scum-shit dreg State, yes, according the law, he certainly can… LEGALLY! There is NO sense, at all, to ANY of the legal system in ALL of Vermont!) So… Silas was nervous, exhausted, confused when he got here. He’d come in a panic. We sat in the living-room to talk. “I want you to be on your feet and ready to go before ANYTHING happens!” he told me. “I’m not going to let anything happen where you won’t have someplace that YOU WANT to be to go to from here.” I told him not to even consider me in any of this. I can certainly take care of what I need to do, no matter what. But, as we both agreed: Just the fact that Burns told him he wouldn’t do anything until the “warm weather” gets here is PROOF beyond ANY doubt that it IS EXACTLY as I had told Silas back in October: Mr. Donald E. Burns of Richford VT rented this place to us with the sole intention of putting US in the financial position of having to pay 1100,00$ a month to keep it heated so that no damage would come to the plumbing and such. Ah… it’s so true that as we get older, SOME of us get wiser. As Dear Peter told me so very many years ago: “You never pay enough attention to your gut, to your instincts. They’re what has kept you alive all this time, with everything you’ve gone through, in spite of everything you’ve ever done. You NEED to put more trust in your own instincts.” Well, again, he’s proven to be perfectly correct. – Meanwhile? I’ll see to it that no harm comes to Silas… It’s a bloody-fucking shame I’ll have to work on this completely alone. (My instincts AND experience has more than proven THAT to be the fact.) But, the best part of it all is that I certainly haven’t much longer to be around on this old earth and I am SO ready to check-out of all of this… the sooner the better. So, anything I do that might have any kind of repercussion against me? HEY! Come at me with all you’ve got! Fuck-for-brains… I’ll be in a place where nobody’ll be able to come at me ever again, LONG before they even get around to the preliminaries. But… BUT… I WILL NOT LEAVE THIS EARTH UNTIL I’VE GOTTEN MY RESTITUTION FOR “ALL”!!!!! And this, tonight in print, I swear in solemn oath on my own Mother’s life and grave. So, Mr. Donald E. Burns… go ahead an try what-ever your simple, fucking retarded Vermont cow-shit brain can muster. And we will certainly see who comes out the VICTOR. As it is known, all too well about me: I’m lousy at defending myself… but when you upset “Mine”, there’s no end to the truest HELL I can deliver. And tonight, a door to HELL has been opened. And here it is, on the web, for all the world to see. When I’m finished, you can all deal with my Mother and me. – The world has taken Viv from me… taken my child from me… Vermont has taken my entire life-time from me. There is a HUGE RESTITUTION DUE! And tonight I solemnly VOW to collect.

Tue.5.Feb: 8.27 Didn’t get to sleep last night,more like this morning, until almost 2.00. And at that, I slept in Silas’ room. On the futon. Yes… admittedly. So I’m just now, waking up. So what? Eh? I learned something too: his room gets so cold at night, the cold comes right through the walls in this room. The insulation in this house is… well… it isn’t. – Problem is, I just couldn’t (and still can’t) get that bull-shit line he was assaulted with about putting us out come the warm weather! And how Silas looked so forlorn when he told me that he wants me to be “on my feet” when I leave here. – Well, since it doesn’t look as if that’s going to be the case, not at this juncture anyway, I resolved to finish this book, have it ready for publishing, get it out there and QUICKLY! AND… leave it all to him… to Silas. Where I’ll be going soon, I won’t have any use for the book or for any income it may generate. And, after all, it’s basically my story, so I already know all about it. As it is with “art”: one has to create and then, let it go. The book is being created… I’m already resolved to let it go. And I suppose, putting this statement here, in this journal, which is, undoubtedly mine, is a bit like a will. So… that said, it is. – Well, it’s not wonder the furnace won’t stop running this morning. Minus 19C out there. Clearest skies. Brightest sun. Cold as… bitter. There goes more oil! Silas said he’ll “try” to be up on Saturday. There’ll be oil and plenty of heat for him when (if) he does. I’ll see to that. – Meanwhile… it’s another morning. I need to get back to work! – 9.45 And as I sit at the computer, working on the book, I see the red pick-up truck come into the drive… Mr. Burns. How odd: just last night he was discussed. Only last night I posted to this Journal about how under-handed he is. And how “co-incidental”, we’ll call it, that he should appear, after so long a while of not being here. It makes me suspicious. It makes me wonder. He didn’t come to the door. Apparently he drove into the drive, turned round and left. As I’ve already said recently: On the advice of others, I must learn to trust my instincts. My instincts tell me, loudly, that there is foul work a-foot here… very foul work. And as much as I don’t like to say, my instincts tell me that 3 people are involved in some little scheme. Ah… perhaps the mention of putting us out come the warmer weather wasn’t so much or “all”, or maybe none, of Mr. Burns? Perhaps it was all Mr. Burton? As I recall, Silas referenced something, in passing, briefly, about his work being in Shelburne these days. Indeed. And now I have a different perspective from which to view this situation. I don’t doubt, for even the slightest moment, that Mr. Burns rented this place to us so that the heating and maintenance over the cold months wouldn’t be his. I “knew” that for a long while. But I wouldn’t doubt that the expense for Silas would put him in a position of simply wanting to get out of this house and finding something closer to work. As I think: he also mentioned the cost of living in Chittenden. I suspect he’s looked. OK then. There are new embers burning today. And in my gut, I don’t like any of them. – Time to re-focus on the book… – Well, the day’s done… another one shot all to hell. But the book’s coming along quite well and I’m putting a lot of work into it. Worst part of it all is the pressure of the dead-line now. It’s got to get done before the sledge comes down on this house. Then comes the worst of the worst: how to get it published and sold so that there’s at least enough income to get out of this place and into another. I’ve got no place to go from here. And at this juncture, NYC isn’t an option. Staying in Vermont without a “home” certainly isn’t an option either. Looks like the “Dead End” is just down the road a bit. – There’s the guy on Twtr, RyRdclf. He’s out in Detroit. Poor guy. He was having one of those days that happen when you’re completely at the mercy of the “Homeless” system. One of those days where all Hell seems to break loose and you feel like you’re more in an asylum, trapped in Bedlam, than anything else. But THE oddest thing: He begins to put his troubles on Twtr and somebody suggests that *I* help him! ME! Seriously jolly-fukkall! For what, some 5 years I’ve been on Twtr and have hinted at, implied, and even come right out and asked for “help”… I didn’t whine incessantly (as some do). I asked for help getting a MetroCard… a 40$ MetroCard. I got… nothing. I I asked for help with the oil bill. Not the WHOLE oil bill, just a bit of what-ever. I got… nothing. Bring it to the most recent request: a simply mouse-click to re-tweet 10 posts. No time, no energy, no money, nothing material… and again, I got… NOTHING AT ALL!!!!! But sure as shit’s brown, there we go: SOMEBODY ELSE feels perfectly justified in telling somebody ELSE to rely on ME for help! Ry didn’t ask. Somebody ELSE gave him the recommendation! Save Nancy, I truly have to say that the rest of them can certainly show just exactly who and what they truly are: selfish, self-absorbed, worth fukkall. It just twists my guts, right down to the core of my Being. Worthless, the lot of them. As I think back to the Shelter days, the guys came to me for help and I was always there for them. Rey’s words are still very fresh in memory: “You’re my inspiration, you’re the one who gave me what I needed to get out of here. I watched you get up every morning at 4.00, even when I knew you didn’t get any sleep all night, and you went out there to go to work all day. You got a job on your own! You did it! And you’re always ready to help anybody else around here even when you get treated just like the rest of us.” Well, we were together there. Each one of us was on the same level. We all had to, one way or another, do what I did… literally or metaphorically… like the day I walked The City until the blisters on my feet broke in my shoes. We all had to do it. BUT… when it came right down to it, my time in that Shelter was relatively good. In spite of what I perceived at first, like I have in the Journal/book, my time there, even with the administration, was good. They knew and they, the administration, helped me. The night Mr. Alexander and Ms. Berman got the papers to transfer me out, THEY took heart! THEY KNEW! And THEY gave human-kindness. And then I came here. Today, I’m not out in the snow. Yes, this house is bitter cold and my fingers, even as I type this, are painfully cold. It hurts to type, that’s how cold it is in here. But, thanks to Silas, I have this cold house, this computer. Silas… and a gift more precious than others can know. – Oh, I don’t know. There are over 200 people who have some kind of “interest” in what I post to the Internet… over 200! Right now, I could use help with the next oil bill and the electric. Right now I could use help with my legal battle, to get my “Life” back. And right now… fuk me royally… over 200 people pull their heads back up into their arses… BUT they’ll come to ME and ask for help! Imagine? Yes, of course I did all I could to be of some help to Ry, to get him through his moment of Bedlam. I actually cried as I typed little bits to him. I felt it a responsibility to a Comrade. “Help” was something he NEEDED, something I could give, even in words of encouragement and support. It was something that needed to be done, that I could do. And I did it. And he was grateful. And I was pleased knowing that he had a little Peace. And then… THEN! I have to read that I “helped” the person who told Ry to rely on me!? Really? And just where the fuk are YOU when all I asked for was a couple of mouse-clicks? Bugger all! – OK. Ry is as fine as can be expected now and I’m good with that. Honestly, I am. But the superficiality, the selfishness, the blatant apathy towards me? THAT I will NEVER forget. THAT, I will NOT simply move past. And THAT, not only will I NEVER forget, but I will NEVER forgive. – Nice way to end an entry.

Ah… but the entry doesn’t really end here. This after-noon, for a little while, I got to “chat” a bit with Silas. What struck me immediately was the hour: 16.09. It was only yesterday that he’d told me that he’s working some 10-12 hours for the P.O. alone and then following those hours at “Teddy”. If that were true, he shouldn’t be on a computer at this hour, and certainly not with enough time to “chat”. But I didn’t mention that. What I DID mention to him was the little “mystery visit” of Don. The “chat” ventured into my notion of Don and wife Connie having taken a bit of a “liking” toward Silas. Me? Not so much. But the opinion of the Burnses means nothing, if not less than nothing, to me. Then, the “chat” went what I can only think of as “interesting”:
“[4:09:21 PM] SB: Yah both Connie and Don like me, but they’re also all business. They offered to have me over during an emergency, but not on a normal occasion, or for dinner. Its a hot and cold thing. The way he put it, they want to “Help me out” by cutting the lease when it gets warmer, but will still fuck me by not cutitng the lease now.
[4:09:34 PM] So they like me in an almost arms-distance sense
[4:10:18 PM] In a way I can understand it, because they have to do what they need to to survive. And with Connie’s medical bills, I completely get it.”
So then… the business of DON breaking the lease and tossing us (me included) ISN’T unilateral! “they want to “Help me out” by cutting the lease when it gets warmer, but will still fuck me by not cutitng the lease now.” SILAS is the one who wants to cut the lease “now”. OK! INDEED! Words that I must and shall remember… and record. HERE is the TRUTH! And so, again, I KNOW! The conniving and back-stabbing goes on… even as I journal… sitting here alone, doing all I can to make this place welcoming and comfortable for the very person who, while I can’t see, while I’m “safely” at a distance, plots… against me… and then LIES TO MY FACE! Again…

Wed.6.Feb: 8.03 Light snow falling this morning. Imagine that. Woke at 7.30. Don’t really know why. I shouldn’t have been so late. Got to bed early enough last night. – Washing the bed-clothes this morning. I got a whiff of me as I got dressed this morning… a bit timber-ish. Time to wash. I’ve changed so much in these months. Particularly in the past 6. Showering only when… only when. Brushing my teeth only when. Nobody else cares. I don’t either. But, as I said to Silas just Monday night: the house gets cleaned regularly. (I have to check the weather, see how much snow’s coming today, decide whether or not I want to bother with it.) – Last night was the last installment of “Kingdom”. That came as a bit of a blow. I’ve gotten rather accustomed to watching that regularly. I enjoyed the programme so much! And it came at a perfect time… support and inspiration. Oh well. – Time to move along. I’m 10 minutes behind my editing. – Wow, today’s the 6th already. The month’s going by. To think, I was looking forward to the Spring coming. Now, with the threat of Don Burns pulling the house out from under, I got to thinking before bed last night: This is February… March will come and Spring’ll be not too far behind. The April. May’s the beginning of the “warmer weather”. And in June? Not only will ALL of my income stop again, I’ll be faced with having to leave here… with no other place to go to. No job and no place. – 17.00 WELL! 8-17.00 straight work with one 45 minute break… the book! There’s SO much more that has to be done on only the formatting alone! I’ve “cleaned” up to August 2011. Two more months to be cleaned. They’ll probably get done tonight. I hope so anyway. – And whilst the “clean-up” was being done, I managed to wash and dry ALL the bed-clothes! So tonight, looks like I’m going to be showering before bed! Of course, right now, I feel as if I should just pass right-the-… out! – The thermo’s been set at 57F all day. I left the little heater in my up-stairs room on, low, just to keep the “chill” out. I closed Silas’ room off quite a bit and kept that heater on. I’m figuring I won’t heat what I don’t use. Still, it’s been so cold today that the furnace actually DID kick up 2 or 3 times. Tonight’s temperature is expected to drop to Minus 23! and tomorrow’s “high” is expected to me Minus 14. There are some ever-so cold times ahead. I don’t DARE go to look at the oil. Right now I figure: when it goes… I’ll know. Just so long as I can get the book edited before they find me in here, dead from hypothermia. Quite frankly m’dear, I don’t give a damn. – Today, a letter. From VT DoL. They sent a paper copy of my complaint about Days Inn not paying me… to Days Inn! AND… they took my complaint VERBATIM! Including the bit about me not believing that it was an honest over-sight. Now Days Inn has 14 days to pay-up or counter. I can’t wait!!!!! I’m thinking that what-ever Owens sends me, I’m going to send copies to Days Inn corporate with a nasty letter of complaint about the past 6months (or longer) of being unable to return to work. Why? Because I’m not thinking of being around so much longer that it’ll make any difference to me one way or another. – OK then. So I have to say that this has been a “productive” day… and all through the “productives” my constant companion has been the thought of being tossed out of here… and, most likely, MUCH SOONER than has been discussed with Mr. Silas. And to think: I was SO thinking in terms of leaving the book to him. Delightful. Thankfully, things come to light before I go sinking brow-deep in more shit. Nope. Not going to him. Nope. Nope. Oh… and Nope. Better to have ALL of the proceeds go to supporting a GOOD shelter for the Homeless… and I mean “ALL”. If I knew the book would sell and generate enough, I’d have the money go to building a shelter some-where in this truly Gods-forsaken State (oops… getting chilly again… the furnace is kicking up… well… the sun’s going down as well), a shelter that would be run EXACTLY like the NYC Shelter of my “Better Old Days”. That would be a most splendid thing, and I could rest very much in peace. Time… only time will tell. – A note? The snow of this morning didn’t amount to all too much. The sun came out this after-noon. So… I didn’t bother with the drive… again. Further? I don’t care. I have other things… more important things to attend to. Ms. Hilary’s the only one using the damned drive now. And again I say: If she’s inconvenienced, let her get somebody to plow… the snow from the drive. But I certainly dare her to come to ME to ask for the half of the expense. Sorry darling, that’s your (EX) Honey’s matter. – Now… I need to close my eyes for only about 20 minutes and then decided about getting to the banque and to Mayhew’s. Must get smokes. I’m depriving myself of heat… and, to an extent, food. I am entitled to a pack of cigarettes at the very least. – 17.00 WELL! 8-17.00 straight work with one 45 minute break… the book! There’s SO much more that has to be done on only the formatting alone! I’ve “cleaned” up to August 2011. Three more months to be cleaned. They’ll probably get done tonight. I hope so anyway. – And whilst the “clean-up” was being done, I managed to wash and dry ALL the bed-clothes! So tonight, looks like I’m going to be showering before bed! Of course, right now, I feel as if I should just pass right-the-… out! – The thermo’s been set at 57F all day. I left the little heater in my up-stairs room on, low, just to keep the “chill” out. I closed Silas’ room off quite a bit and kept that heater on. I’m figuring I won’t heat what I don’t use. Still, it’s been so cold today that the furnace actually DID kick up 2 or 3 times. Tonight’s temperature is expected to drop to minus 23. There’s a Winter “storm” forecast for Friday. More snow, colder temperatures. I wish I could enjoy it. (Oil) – (On Thursday morning…) I got right back to work after that bit of entry here. Worked, as a matter of fact, right through to almost 19.00 when I realised that I was about to run out of smokes. So it was out the door for a stroll. – had to go “into town” this evening and on the way, one of the guys I see rather regularly at Mayhew’s was coming in the opposite direction. We passed on the bridge, he on the North side, me on the south. He waved and called “Hey Buddy!” I waved back and called across “How’s it going?” It struck me: People here know me already. It’s beginning to become “my town”. What a bloody shame! It’s all going to be torn right away from me in short order. – So I went to the banque, took only what I needed and went to Wetherby’s instead of Mayhew’s tonight. There, even the young guy said, when he was told that I was delivering a package, “I recognised you when you came in. I know you weren’t delivering a package.” And so, again, I’m known. And tonight, it just makes me all the more uncomfortable. Not because of being recognised… but because of the impending … well… soon enough, I’ll be out the door with no-where to go. On the walk back to the house, thoughts of getting a P.O. box here, getting myself into Williston for another tent and tarp. I’ve got no income and it doesn’t look as if I’ll be having one at any time too soon. Not at the rate things are going. So, if all holds until the “warm weather”, I’ll be walking out of here and into the woods. Thankfully, there’s more woods up this way that there were in Chittenden. And I’m closer to HOME too! – Coming up the hill, looking at this house, with the icicles so perfectly formed and situated round, I thought: Best way? Finish the book, clean it up and make it perfectly ready for print, send it off to someone who’ll get it published posthumously… then, when it’s sent off, put the house in order and just walk out… walk away… This seems the best, the only way to handle this. Just walk away quietly. Take the BDM with… and – So. Tonight’s “meal”: boxed mac’n’cheese. DISGUSTING stuff! Horrid, actually. The cup-boards are gone rather bare. Yes, there’s probably enough on the FoodStamps for enough shopping for a while. But I just don’t have the interest and the only reason I bother eating at all these days is simply to get rid of the hunger. The fridge is rather sparse as well. Oh well. It’s only me. – Round about 20.00 or a bit later, I got to chit-chat on the “social media”. There’s a farmer in NY who corresponds now. Interesting. Brings back the memories of the Grands… farmers. We bantered a bit. A few others posted. Nothing from Nancy. But her e-mail says she’s down with allergies these days. I wish I could think of something that helps with those. – Later, just to pass some time, dull the mind for sleep, I put on “River Monsters” for an episode and… well… it was round about mid-night when I finally put the lights out on this day.

Thu.7.Feb: 7.36 Following another night down-stairs. The thermo is still set at 14C (and it only just now kicked in) and the house isn’t all that intolerable. Either I’ve got fever (which wouldn’t surprise me at all) or I’m adjusting again. In any event, I’m glad to save the oil. Once this is down… it’s down and out. – Something seems to be amiss in my nose. For 4 days now, every time I blow, the tissue is bloody. Frank blood. Coming from farther up in the sinus. Not just the “bloody nose” bits. But something higher. Hmmm…. curious. Not that I’m particularly “concerned” as much as I am “curious”. – Well then, I’ve got the last 3 months of the NYC Journal to “tidy” this morning. Then comes the “read-through” edits, trying to find ways to send the manuscript along for Nancy to read/edit. I wish I knew others who’d edit for me too. But… – Seems a nice day out-side the window this morning. Sun. I need to wash the bed-clothes on Silas’ bed. Why? Simply because they should be. Oh well. Things to be done with this day. (And I NEED to wash MY clothes and ME! I’ve become the “Old Man” of late. Not attractive. But then… there’s no cause to be… “attractive”. I don’t even look at me any more. Don’t want to know.) – One quick note: Again, last night, I realised just how BITTER Silas’ room gets at night. It’s really angering: That doddering old fuktroll, Don Burns actually LIED: told Silas that the house is well-insulated! When one lays on the bed, the cold comes right through the wall and it’s bitter on the head! So! Seems to me: Butt-baby Burns won’t let Silas out of the lease through the cold weather, however, *I* am to be “Grounds-Keeper” for the duration, ensuring the house doesn’t freeze and the plumbing doesn’t break. And *I* am to be left ALONE here, with 100% of the responsibility… financial and other-wise. Ah HAH! Well m’dears, with that in mind, all I can say is… Good luck with that. My only concern is my own comfort, and when I can no longer provide that… Tah-tah boils and goils. – And now… TO WORK! – 10.17 I’ve found an on-line radio station that plays Baroque… and this morning, for the past while, it’s been Handel: Harpsichord Concerto Nr. 64!!!!! What incredibly wonderful memories go through my mind as I edit the 8539266 Journal. BayShore… Motek… Wonderful moments in time… Gone, of course. But the music just pulls me out of this house, away from all the shit that is here. I’m actually grinning, sincerely, as I type this. The “trace” of a “smile”… I haven’t truly done this in… so long now that I can’t recall the last time. And so, as I continue with the editing, so too, the Baroque. Good moments this morning. (But I’m comforted by the assurance that something or somebody will certainly come along to change this… in short order.) – 12.20 Mail’s in: Note from the State… I still qualify for emergency fuel assistance! I have NO idea what that means. Can I get MORE oil between now and April? Do I have to wait until NEXT season? I know… I should phone them. But right now, today, for some reason, it’s become a bit difficult to concentrate enough on the book. The last month (October 2011) is a mess! Much back-tracking. And, admittedly, the cold in the house is getting to me a bit today. But… I can’t rid my mind of the need to get this thing “clean” enough for a preliminary edit by somebody else. There’s A LOT to be done to make it “publishable”. And I’m determined. Other-wise, Silas’ bed-clothes are laundered. – There’s really nothing in the house to make “lunch” today. There are pot-pies and pizza in the freezer. But those are “meal”… evening meal. Nothing for breakfast, nothing for lunch. – I have to sort some thoughts out about this house as well. The ideas keep impinging. For example (I’ll note whilst I’m here): I have a signed lease with Silas. Now, his co-worker, Tim, told him that, in this State, a signed agreement is a legal contract no matter how silly it might be (that was in reference to the stupidity in the lease Silas signed with Don). Add to that, the documentation from the State concerning the Fuel Assistance… showing that *I* pay for the heating fuel here. The unemployment papers with this address on them. The FoodStamps documentation with this address. Now, these things considered, I’m supposing Don is with-in his rights to drop Silas’ lease with him… However, I’m thinking that Silas will then have to drop my lease with him… putting me into a position where-by, if the “laws” (and WOW, does THAT notion actually make my head spin… truly) of this State aren’t followed and proper notice is given and all that shit, I’m in a position to take Silas to court and sue. I believe OUR lease is for a period of 1 year, from 1 Sept. 2012. I have to check… but not now… This evening. – Meanwhile, the furnace kicks in. This is the 2nd time since I last noted this morning. (Eventually I’m going to HAVE to go to the cellar to check… but not until it’s “V-Tonic” time… I almost shortened that to “VT”! HAH! Isn’t that just the oddest? “VT” VodkaTonic/Vermont, and Vermont is the cause of the NEED for the VodkaTonic!) – OK. Back to WORK! – (on Friday morning) THE BOOK IS LOOKING SO GOOD! The bed-clothes are all nice and clean. I dropped down to Mac’s earlier for a bit of something edible. Not much though. There isn’t much in that store that anybody would really want to eat. But the walk, the being out of the house was a nice change and it did me a bit of good… “mental health” wise. – As for the “meal” tonight? Egg sandwiches. Quick and easy and something. Truth and fact are, I don’t much care to bother with eating. I do it just to get rid of the empty tummy syndrome. I don’t have appetite and eating is generally a bother. – So the rest of the night went right along. Nothing much to say about it. – I did get to shower though… not a “nice” or “good” shower. As is usual, the hot water ran out quickly. The tag on the hot water tank reads 30 gallons… there’s something terribly wrong. There’s no way ONE shower uses 30 gallons of water! Just another bit of Don Burns bull-shit in this place. So… the shower had to be cut rather short, I rinsed in COLD WATER! These are the moments when I’m actually ever so sorry that I ever left the Shelter, ever left NY. And, as I went up-stairs to cot, my closing thought of the day: I take the word of some medicinally-dependant fool, leave everything I know behind on some blank promise of a “better life”, a one-way ticket and nothing much more… I get here, get a tour of the area and 6months later… I’m completely on my own. And now? A year later? There isn’t even a word from him. Disappeared. Just like that. I’m such a general fukkup. I’m actually thinking: my “father” was right about me… too bad he didn’t succeed at least once in all those attempts to kill me off. In a way, he would have done me a great favour.

Fri.8.Feb: 9.26 and indeed, there is snow. All the talk on Twtr last night. Terrible storm and all that shit. Apocalyptic and such. US weather service says “feet” of snow. MétéoMédia however, is calling for flocons less than a cm. I, on the other hand, have just had a rather audible HAhahahaha… It’s February, and all through January I said “I’ve a feeling we’ll get the make-up time for Winter, come February. That’s usually how it happens.” “You think so?” was the reply. “Oh yeah.” said I. But you know something? I never know what the fuk I’m talking about anyway. And so, once again… Oh, never mind. – Now there’s the matter of the drive and shovel. Perhaps the drive will get cleared. And then there’s the haps that it won’t. – Sour mood this morning. Not angry. Not depressed. Not much of more than simply “sour”. – Garbage didn’t get put out this morning. Nor the recyclables. I didn’t get to bed until 2.00 this morning. I did, how-ever, wake at 6.30, look out the window, saw the snow and the fact that the road hadn’t been cleared… rolled over, dozed right back off. And woke at 8.45 to see that there’s a bag of garbage down the street, much recyclables next-door, the snow is still falling delightfully lightly, it’s accumulated rather impressively, and the street still hasn’t been plowed. So… the garbage here got tied-up and will be put out into the barrel on the back porch, and the recyclables have been returned to their place of honour by the west door. And “that”, as they say, is “that”. – 16.06 Bloody drive is cleared of snow… AGAIN! This bloody house is a fukking joke. AND I just see that Ms. Hilary has now taken to putting HER garbage in the barrel out-side the kitchen door! And let us say… that “sour” mood? Gone. Replaced with a bit of rage. And what a shame… I have to work on it because I was dancing about whilst shovelling. Alas. Let the good times roll… the fuk away.
Just for the sake of having a record of it, this is how much Ms. Hilary and Silas have saved on plowing costs:
(DATE) Hilary’sSavings Silas’Savings (Total Savings for Both)
(29 Nov) 10 5
(30 Nov) 20 10
(5Dec) 30 15
(17 Dec) 40 20 (60$)
(22 Dec) 50 25
(23 Dec) 60 30
(24 Dec) 70 35
(27 Dec!) 80 40
(28 Dec!) 90 45
(30 Dec) 100 50
(31 Dec) 110 55
(1 Jan) 120 60 (180$)
(2 Jan) 130 65
(4 Jan) 140 70
(6 Jan) 150 75
(13 Jan)160 80 (240$)
(17 Jan)170 85
(19 Jan)180 90
(8 Feb) 190 100 (290$)
Gee… There’s 290$ that I could put into oil to keep ME warm. But… Silas is cozy at his mommies’. Hilary is cozy at her fuk-buddy’s in Burlington. And me? I’m sitting here being unforgivably selfish. SHAME! I SAY SHAME ON ME! – 19.40 2 pot pies for dinner tonight… good, hot food. But about 30 minutes after eating… CRAMPS! I’d been just fine all day. Even with the shovelling. But suddenly, the cramps came on and with them, just amazing fatigue. Even now, I’m so tired! A major bout of diarrhoea that felt as if it was pulling the energy right out of me. And now, just incredible fatigue. But it’s too early to got to bed. I’d wanted to shower tonight, but I honestly don’t have the energy. – Out-side, the wind is blowing snow all round the place and it feels just bitter cold. Not a “storm” but a brisk, windy, Winter night. I have the thermo up to 60 now. The cramps took the strength out of me and the cold is horrid. I’m sitting here with 3 sweat-shirts on, 2 hoods on my head and I still feel the cold coming through it all. Oh well… precursor to what’s coming when the oil runs out. Good experience, this. But I wonder: a few days of blood coming from the sinuses and tonight’s cramps and diarrhoea? – Hmong: Stephen Fry did a piece on a population in the U.S. where the men, for a while after coming here, were dying in their sleep. Almost as if they were willing themselves to die. I wonder, I’d like to know why it’s not working for me. I think about that almost every day now. Maybe in due course. I mean, even today, as I shovelled the drive, listening to Québec music, I thought, as I do most times when I’m shovelling: a heart attack and it would be done. (I actually keep shovelling just to see… Maybe one of these days. There’s still snow coming and the drive will need clearing again tomorrow. Ah… tomorrow.) – Well, a bit of time on-line and tonight will probably be an early one. I’ve got “my” room closed and warming with the little heater. I’ll be ready for sleep… soon. – And so, as this night comes to a close I have to say that it ran rather late… again… But, worth the mention: there was some great exchanges on Twtr tonight. Politics and humour. I actually had to laugh aloud a few times. It was rather (as is my favourite term) “bitter-sweet”. Discussing the depressing state of affairs in this country with some buffoon running the show who isn’t much different from the Hitlerian days of Germany and, in all the humour, actually having a discussion with people who are aware. Reminded me very much of the “better days” in NYC when I could have these same discussions with people who were aware of GLOBAL politics. We could sit at a bar and seriously enjoy intelligent dialogue. I SO miss those days. And Roy came in with a few comments here and there. He’s become my anchor of late… It’s as I’ve said all along, I still have this connection with the Homeless and still have this deep-rooted feeling that they’re the only people I can actually talk with. And along comes Roy. Even the brief comments back and forth with him blend in with the politicals. It’s nice to be able to have these talks, but there’s a great gap in the fact that it’s all in “type”. I can sit here, in this house, so terribly removed from others, have these exchanges… but there’s nothing “human” about it. I should have never left NYC. But then again, the “Real” truth of the matter is that the NYC I knew and loved, the NYC that WAS my familiar ground is now completely gone. I remember the conversation with Tony Smith about that very thing: New Yorkers are gone and what’s taken their place is a large group of empty-skulled idiots. No. I suppose I really had no choice… it was time to leave. Anyway, the whole thing just keeps me wondering what, in reality, is happening to this country, to this world, to people in general. Things here are terrible. The state of this country is utter misery. Yet, people do nothing but whine. It’s pitiful. – OH! That too reminds me… I got to the Nbg Twtr and voy last night as well! There are comments and for a while, there was an exchange with the Historical Society! This brought me to look to see if there are any sorts of videos on-line on Nbg and sure enough… there ARE! Mostly on the violence and murder and gangs and such. But there isn’t much more to be said for Nbg. BUT… I found 2 that have to do with the history and the architecture and some interviews with people who are actually making quite a business there these days! Imagine that! There’s an art store now (of course, M.G. owns and runs it … but from the looks of it, it’s really rather impressive!) and some rather nice looking restos and such. It made me thing about this town and wonder why I couldn’t start something successful right here. As I walk round I keep thinking of how beautiful this town could be. I mean, there’s a delightful river right here and old buildings, beautiful old buildings from the mill days, right ON the river. This should be prime! (But then the ultimate reality steps in, takes a stand and with a steel fist… I get it, right in the middle of my face… there’s no time. This house and everything associated with it will be pulled out in about 2 months’ time and I’ll either be on the roads, heading back to the Shelter in NYC or… heading HOME. Two months and it’s gone.) – This is a wrap on this day.

Sat.9.Feb: 9.00 Just up. Logged-on to Skype. Silas is “online” as they say. I started a chat “Goodmorning. So there’s the HOOJ storm?” And now I wait to see if I get a reply. I don’t really know how to use Skype. Not sure if this is how it’s done… just type and send. But… – A bit chilly in this old house this new morning. Gee, I wonder if it might have anything to do with the fact that the thermo was set at 55F all night? (Oops… just as I finished typing that, the furnace kicked. The little thermometre in the room here registers at 55, I guess the one in the living-room dropped to 54 just now.) I still have yet to go look at the oil tank. Ah… one of these days. Quite honestly, I don’t want to look, don’t want to know. maybe on Monday I’ll give a call to see what that notice means, the one that says I’m still eligible for “assistance”. Not that I actually care one way or the other. I mean, I don’t see me asking for more. If the oil runs out and the house gets all that cold, why bother? I might freeze to death but it would be kind of someone to cremate the remains (at least I could leave this earth in the warmth I didn’t have) and toss the ashes just up the road… across the border… back HOME. (I’m such a damned moron! Really? Like there’s ANYBODY who’d do that? “Hello… Mr. Fuk4shit4brains? Hell-OH! There isn’t anybody who cares enough now. You’d be quite fortunate if they were ‘kind enough’ to put a blue sticker on your dead arse and leave you a the end of the drive you’ve been shoveling, on a Friday morning for pick-up. HELLOHHH?”) – Welll, look at this. 9.35 and no response to my message to Silas. Skype says he’s still on-line. Really. Just fukkit. I’ve got other things to do… There’s a bit of snow on the drive again. It didn’t really “snow” per se, last night, just a bit of light stuff that continued through. Tiny accumulation. But I don’t want to lock my-self in the house all day and it’s just a bit on the nippy side out there this morning. Highest temperature today: minus 10. Probably not the best day for a stroll up to Sutton. So? So… And my guts are a bit “off” again this morning. So… we’ll see what we can do with the rest of the hours. There IS still a bit of work to be done on the manuscript. (Yesterday I asked what format I should send it along as… no reply. I’m not even wondering…) – It feels rather wasted this morning. Again, last night, the hours rolled into 2.00 this morning before I actually got to go upstairs! I MUST STOP THAT! I don’t know WHY I “must”. But getting up at 8.00 a.m. just isn’t “right”… not for me anyway. (Shit! Getting up at ALL isn’t “right”.) – 14.08 Sometimes we get what we want. Sometimes we get close to what we want. Too bad. I almost got what I’ve wanted and only got close to it today. It gave me a bit of cause to actually laugh again. To think of somebody careening into the drive, off to the back of the house, ready to slam the car into park and there, in the “parking area” is a “speed bump”, frozed solid into the ground. Knowing the two others here, neither of them would stop. THUMP! and BOUNCE! Total oblivion until… Oh my! He must be in Canada. Oh well. And so would go the Winter. But THEN… SPRING! The warm weather and… THE THAW! ICK! There’d be my old dead carcass… not the “speed bump”. (It’d probably take both of them that long to figure it out too.) Yep, deader’n the synapses in both brains. OH! SO CLOSE today. And all I could think of at the time was “It’s time to go HOME! I don’t give a fuck about this old chassis. It can stay right here, ooze into the ground, leave the poison right here. I’m OK with that.” And I just kept shoveling, hoping. Oh alas. Here I am. Typing. What a bloody-fucking shame. BUT… it’s only the 9th of February. There’ll be more snow, more shoveling, and more walks HOME. One of them’ll take. Maybe this one was the prep. I’ll hope. (But about the laugh? It really was funny to think of Silas or Hilary coming in and finding me dead in the yard.) Oh but, then, as the day went along I thought: Gee, the oil’d run out, the house’d get cold, the plumbing’d freeze and bust. The house is cracking already from the cold and the thermo’s set at only 55F! OO! Silas’d be just SO PISSED at me! Oh well… rat’s arse. – But it did get quite “warm” after that and again today, I got the drive cleaned. I went to check on the Staller too. Poor thing. Filthy. But at least that front tyre isn’t flat… yet. I have to get rid of it next thaw. Hopefully it’ll make the trip back to its own county. And I ventured to cellar. Half a tank. Much better than I’d thought. Keeping the thermo at 55 should keep it going for a while. – 14.27 TEA TIME! – 19.49 I suddenly became so incredibly exhausted about 45 minutes ago that I HAD to lie down for a half hour! I’d just finished eating “dinner”… 3 roasted onions on bread tonight… and was pondering stepping out for a bit. But no! It was awful! The half hour seems to have done the trick a bit though. Feeling only a bit better now. But still, there’s no “stepping out” from here. Not tonight. I’ve put the kettle on to heat some water to wash the dishes (because I’d like to take a shower before bed tonight and don’t want to risk having no hot water in the tank… this is SO bloody ridiculous!) and I’ll see about a little while on-line. But tonight will be early to bed. I don’t know, but I think it’s primarily because of being so cold for so long. Sitting here dressed in 3 sweat-shirts, hood on, all day and into the night. It’s taking a toll. – And then, of all things, I was doing a “quick through” check on the manuscript that I want to send to Nancy and found that, some-how, ALL the pages have been re-arranged! I had it all settled yesterday but for some reason, when I opened the document this evening… the spacing has been changed! I’m pissed! So now, again, I have to go through the whole thing. – AND, I have to get the info together for tomorrow’s filing for chomage. – There are things that must be attended tonight and I simply don’t have the energy. (I have to add: this soft-ware… Open Office… is pure shit when it comes to checking spelling and suggesting alternative words. The dictionary is all but useless.) – Before signing-off for now: Not a word from Silas all day. He was on-line this morning. I sent a couple of messages. Not one reply. Must admit: it’s put me in a rather foul frame of mind when it comes to him. I do NOT deserve this kind of treatment. Well, it just makes me all the more determined: When the time comes for me to walk away from this house, no matter where ‘ll be going when I do, there’ll be no word about it from me. Just leave the house as it is.. I’m not even thinking in terms of taking anything with me when I go. Let HIM figure out what to do with my belongings. I don’t care. More, I don’t really believe I’ll want to take anything from here with me… I don’t want anything to remind me of these months.

Sun.10.Feb: 8.32 Crisp, clear morning, this. Minus 24C out there. Plus 11C in here. 3 sweat-shirts and the hood. – Again this morning, the lights went out at 2.00. I need to start getting back into some sort of better routine. Then again, it’s probably better that I don’t wake until after sun-rise. If I go back to my norm of 4.30, it’s probably considerably colder at that hour. Oh well. – For no particular reason at all, I just want to note my first though of this morning. With all this bull-shit about lease-breaking come the “warm weather”, and yesterday’s “Skype” business (Silas being on-line, logged-in and not responding to my messages), the line I got when Silas left the other night (“I’ll try to make it up on Saturday”), my head just filled with a bit of my history in this house:
Dear Silas:
You yelled at me because you claimed that Don smelled cigarettes in the house and was keeping “One third of” the deposit.
You yelled at me for slamming a door and accused me of damaging the house.
You accused me of plotting to burn the house down.
You told me that Hilary offered to help you pay the rent when I was “shirking” my “responsibilities”.
Knowing that my key wouldn’t work in the bolt-lock on the kitchen door, you bolted the door shut and never bothered to get me a new key.
You accused me of damaging the window screen.
You took an Order of Protection out against me.
Gee, and look at what’s happening now: I get to sit here, taking care of what is, essentially, YOUR “responsibility”, making sure the place stays warm enough so the plumbing doesn’t freeze, making sure the snow and ice are removed especially from the porch so there’s no rot with the melt, fixing the plumbing, fixing the electrics… my my, and you get to reside in the comfort of your mommies’. How completely delightful. And then you come along, breeze in, sit momentarily and tell me that at some non-specific date in the relatively near future, BANG! YOU are arranging to cut the lease and leave? Yes sir indeed. I’m EVER SO appreciative. – Well, this was this morning’s thought. Now that that’s off my mind, I can move along here and get to “WORK”! – Just one additional Note: I see on Twtr that other people are conducting “Skype Interviews” in their job searches. How interesting that I’m not even get that much. If I get anything at all from my applications, it’s “Thank you but…” and “we went with someone whom we feel better ‘qualified’…” or, in the case of the Postal Service, “suitable”. Oh how wonderful that makes me feel. As I said to Nancy in last night’s e-mail (which I almost regret having sent because it’s just selfishly whiny of me): “She (Dianne Owens, Days Inn) really fucked my entire life with this. Nobody, and I mean this… Nobody knows the half of it. Imagine: soon to be 58 and certainly not in a position to “retire” and actually CAN’T get a job!” – Oh the first thoughts of a day. – It just suddenly occurred to me: With the incident of being locked out: Why didn’t I come in through the front door? It just never occurred to me to do that! Honestly! I had the key. The key worked. WHAT the HELL was wrong with me? Oh yes… working those consecutive over-night shifts and the general manner in which I was being treated. The line about Hilary paying rent and food had come before that. AND… I was completely wasted, mentally and physically. Ah, see what a sleep deprivation can do. Well, no sense lingering on that. It’s done. Irreparable. – 8.50 and Skype-chatting with Nancy!!! HeyHeyHey! This is really a lovely way to start the day! And a VOICE CALL! Now yes! THIS is a marvellous beginning to the day. (Now let’s see what comes along to fuk this up.) – 9.40 and the house returns to silence and the day commences. Things to do… to DO! – (On Monday morning) And the day went right along… what else can I say? I got in a bit of research for the book. Nancy started reading the manuscript and already made comments. That got me excited! To think it’s being edited and it’s on its way. I re-read a few bits on it (but actually reading it puts me in moods that thrash about. It’s not the easiest thing, re-living those times. There are moments when I feel I want to throw the whole thing out, forget it ever happened; there are moments when I feel terrible about writing things about people who, in retrospect, don’t seem so bad after all. But the truth of the matter is, they were that bad. I keep remembering that I wrote what I felt at that time and the fact is, the way I perceived them was exactly the way it was at the time. There was no reason, no cause for being treated like some drug-crazed derelict. There was no reason for being degraded and addressed as if I’d just come from murdering their loved ones. So, I just leave it to someone who wasn’t there at the time… Nancy. Then, as I read, I truly miss the guys on the 5th floor and wish there was some way I could track them down, get together again. And then I wonder where they are,if they’re alright, if they’re even alive. But one thing came out of it that I believe is premonitory, prophetic: I have a better sense of what can be done when the moment comes and Silas waltzes in to tell me this house is gone. I have a better focus on what I can and, in all probability, will do. So that’s great now. Leave it to the book. – And speaking of Silas… again today, I was on Skype, he was on Skype. But this evening, several hours passed and… no word at all. Not one letter came through. No comments. Nothing. It all leads to one thing: I am now convinced that he’s got his end of this “warm weather” scheme down and done and I’m being left completely out of it. To me, it smacks of more than simple avoidance. He’s blatantly and boldly cutting all communications. Guilt? Anger? Non-compliance with the meds? Delusions? Any or all of these? What-ever it is, in the silence, it’s really quite loud. Well, I suppose that’s fine. The over-lying fact of the matter is that the lease on this place is “his”, not mine. But I’m the one who is maintaining the place… or, as is the case of late, not so much. Yes, it’s clean (relatively speaking… to my general comfort). But that’s just about the extent of it. As I thought before going to sleep tonight: I started putting curtains on the windows, art on the walls, putting the kitchen in some order so it’s “welcoming”… repaired the light in the kitchen, the drain in the tub. I scrubbed and scoured, de-bugged, de-iced. But now? Only what makes me comfortable. And, as I think: since the car technically isn’t mine at all and I’ve been so concerned about removing it from the property that he leases… well… it’s not in the way, not in the yard… it’s no longer my responsibility. It can stay right where it is and on that day when I walk away from here, I’ll walk away from it as well. If the oil runs down to nothing in the tank, so it shall. Since it’s not my lease and my responsibility, not my deposit and such, (gee, isn’t it great the way Fate threw that one in? Looks like I’m “working” my debt off.) when someone has to be called-in to prime and such, it won’t be any concern of mine. And today it all goes back to the day “we” arrived… as we stood in the kitchen, the lease on the counter, and I was ready to put my name on it and he said “I’ll sign…” and HE did. As I read the manuscript, the Journal, and recall the day of leaving Rockaway, I also recall washing the walls, bleaching the walls and ceiling, and washing the floor and the window. The place was immaculate. As has been my history in New York City, and with very few exceptions, I left that place in better order than it was when I moved in. I’ll never forget leaving Norwood and Walter saying “If I could have a building full of people like you, I’d never have to even think about my property…” and “If you ever decide to come back and are looking for a place, let me know. There’ll always be a place for you in my building.” And that was after a year of my having created and been president of the Tenants’ Association. And when I left Rockaway, after sitting in the court with Peter, and being told “I’ve never experienced anybody like you. It’s a shame you’re leaving.” Well… I did OK there. And when I went back to the Shelter and Crawford yelled “What happened to you? We went crazy trying to find you.” There too, even in a Homeless Shelter in NYC… I did OK there as well. Now here? After having been called “scum-bag”, accused of assaulting some spindly little drug-crazed alcoholic, and then, subsequently being told by Silas “I don’t know… I’m only taking your word for it that you didn’t hit her. You might have.”, the nights of sleeping in the car because I wasn’t worth the consideration of being allowed the necessary proper sleep, sleeping in parks, waking up in the morning soaked with dew, being “sold” a car that was soon to simply die of prior abuse, being accused of defaulting on payments when the promised repairs were never done and THEN being accused of damaging the car (even after having been told “This vehicle hasn’t looked this good since the day it rolled off the lot.”), then coming here and being yelled at and accused of “shirking” responsibilities because my pay-cheque schedule wasn’t in accordance to the way it would have made others happy, being accused of and charged with the embezzlement and having my entire background history annihilated, the accusations of damaging THIS house, the window screen, the door… and now THIS? Just casually being told that instead of being able to think in terms of looking for further work in weather where it would be easier to navigate (on foot) and being able to arrange for temporary transport… that ALL will come to a screeching halt… and with no notice of when that moment will happen, to think of the promises of “WE’ll go together to get your things from storage” and “I can lease a car for you and you can make the payments on it because you NEED a car” and “I’ve learned that here, a car is as necessary as a house and you need a car…” and “Now you have a lap-top so you can do your art, get a telecommuting job, be creative and you don’t have to worry about going to the library and….” Well, it all comes crashing-down. All of this shit happened with-in just a little over one year… A LIFE-TIME of brutality condensed, concentrated and distilled. And through it all, here I sit, alone, in relative silence, still washing, cleaning, shoveling, maintaining, bundled in hooded sweat-shirts, empty fridge, almost empty cup-boards, keeping the thermo down to where my fingers go numb from the cold in the house… Yup. THIS is “Life”… this is “Living”… THIS is “consideration”. Yup… THIS is “IT”… Nope… this is “THE END”! No; no retaliation. None of them is worth the effort. I’d rather utilise my time in ways that make me happy, even for a moment. There’s a continuous under-current of the damages done. Best to leave it at that… an under-current. Leave the rest to what-ever it is that Creation metes out as “payment” and “re-payment”. – Meanwhile, back to the day: the reading, the editing, the research, a little music, a daily meal of a tin of salmon. A cup of tea before heading up to the cot. And having the time to begin a new book before sleep. – There’s a beautiful icicle forming on the eaves again. Several in a nice row too. It’s beautiful to look at. It’s rather amazing to watch and to think about the physics, the science behind icicles: how temperature alone can actually stop running water in mid-air. At the Huntington Gorge, running water carved massive holes in stone! Stone had to give way to running water. And here, off the roof and over the eaves of the house, “cold”, something that can’t be seen, something with no substance, no physical presence, manages to stop the flow of water and in so doing, creates something both deadly (should one of those icicles drop on the skull of some creature standing beneath it, it would be certain, sudden death no doubt) and, simultaneously beautiful. Even in a world of hideous creatures, nasty, arrogant, destructive, hateful and spiteful creatures, there is beauty… silent wonder. And at the end of a day, I can recline and relax and be amazed by it… right out-side my bed-side window.

Mon.11.Feb: 7.14 and so another day begins. The sun isn’t shining this morning and the forecast is for some more snow. I have to smile when I think of the stories in the news about the “terrible Winter storm” that “hit the North-east” on Thursday/Friday last. I look out the window this morning and I see the tops of the grass, the dirt of the drive. Up here, it was entirely too cold for the Winter to drop snow. And all through it, I sat here, in the house, coping a bit with temperatures of 14C… IN the house! It’s not easy and it’s not so pleasant. But it has to be done and so it is. But the forecast also calls for some clear skies and temperatures a bit warmer come the mid-week. And I’m planning on a journey… HOME. – Meanwhile, in the kitchen, the sink is rather full of dishes that haven’t been washed in days. (I don’t care, really.) I didn’t bother with the floors this week-end as I usually do. (I don’t care, really.) And something inside me tells me that I’m going to have a visit today… it was the first thought of the morning. Don, I believe, will “drop by” at some point, un-announced. (I don’t care, really.) And there are a few things I should accomplish, a few things I’d like to accomplish, some things that I actually “need” to accomplish, and since there’s a bit of snow lurking about some-where and it’s still a bit too chilly for much of anything out-of-doors, I suppose I should get to it, get to “a day”. “This is a day that the Lord has given…” Why can’t he be like Silas and take it back? Amen. – 15.01 OK THEN! Just finished speaking with a rep about fuel assistance and, as I’ve been afraid of all along, the one-shot was THE ONE-shot. This means… no more fuel unless I pay in cash. Looks like there are some DAMN-COLD days and nights coming. And to think, I was just pondering, only moments ago: I spend the entire Winter in here, freezing half to death half of the time and when the “warm weather” comes and I should be able to look forward to sitting on the porch, or simply enjoying the house… it’ll all be snatched right up from under me. When I should be looking forward to planting a garden, tending to the lawn, splashing in the river… GONE! Isn’t this all just so wonderful? Well… truth is: I need to get the fuck out of here… out of this State. There’s nothing here and there won’t be anything here. I guess the only reason it hits so hard is because, for the very first time in my entire memory, I’ve come to a complete “Dead” end. I can’t even think of any way out of this. None at all. So… just ride it out to the end and when the end comes… I’ll handle it my way. But for now… there are dishes still waiting to be washed and me to get “cleaned up” a bit. May as well pass the time… – 17.52 2 pot pies in the oven, soon to be ready to eat. I took a stroll to Mayhew’s for beer and cigs. Weather got considerably warmer. Slush all round! Anyway… I’ve been re-reading “Bitter-Sweet” and am amazed at how VIVID each detail of the events is still in my head AND how DEEP I can still feel the same way tonight as I did back then. – 23.22 Late again. I’m tired… and annoyed… as usual. But I’m showered, clothes are clean, teeth brushed. Imagine?These are things that were so common-place to me not so very long ago. Now they’re luxuries! Fucking Vermont. – But the evening was productive and some fun. I got more reading done on the manuscript, more notes in the margin. More suggestions from Nancy(THANK YOU NANCY!). Even got to “tchat” as they say in French, with Nancy for a while. – The house is relatively warm tonight. But the temp out-side it a blamy 3C! Water in the drive. Water on the street. Snow is melting. Tomorrow’s forecast is for 2C but rain and snow. Wednesday is -1 but sun and clouds and Thursday is plus 1C and sun and clouds. Looks like I’ll take a stroll HOME on Thursday. Next week we go back down to minus 10, 15C. Oh well. Right now I’m not thinking about next week. Can’t. – There’s almost no food left in the house. Oh well. I don’t care, really. I’m clean. – And now, to post this and get up-stairs to a book and some sleep. – Oh! The 2 seeds from Silas’ squash are doing magnificently well! What a shame… poor little things are growing, only to be killed before they get the chance to actually BE anything. May his soul go with them. I have my prayers for him and his cohorts… the “2Bs”: Burns and Burton. – Enough. No sense in getting ito that at this hour. Tomorrow’s another day. Thankfully, I’ll be able to keep the thermo down for a while… at least until Monday when the night temperatures go back down to minus 20.

Tue.12.Feb: 11.47 WELL! THIS has certainly been a morning to beat most! “Foreboding” and “Oppressive” are the only two words that immediately come to mind to describe it. It began with this morning’s alarm at 7.00. I heard it, woke and turned it off, laid in bed, half awake for what I thought was only a matter of minutes. It was snowing and the room was, to put it poetically, a-wash with subdued, greyish light. Nothing really out of the ordinary. But when I finally got up and looked at the clock, it was already 9.00! I don’t know how that happened. i thought I was aware of the passing time. Obviously not. But, there was nothing I could do about it so I just got up and went through the normal morning machinations. – I came down-stairs to the computer. The house seemed warm enough this morning. The thermo is set at 50F and the little electric heater in the kitchen was running. But that too is usual. I’ve got that set at the lowest (50F) but in this house, well… Still, the house was rather comfortable enough. I turned the computer on and… everything suddenly froze. The web-cam went on and wouldn’t turn off. Nothing I did seemed to turn it off. The soft-ware froze and wouldn’t stop. I turned the computer off, had coffee (I’m SO running out of that!), went up-stairs to brush my teeth and returned. I still don’t know what happened originally, but all seems to be working OK now. Whew! There’s so much work on this thing that I just can’t afford to lose right now and if this computer stops working, I have NOTHING in the house. – OK. So I go to check e-mails, as I usually do in the morning and today, an e-mail from FRAN! YAY! Or so I thought. – Fran’s old e-mail account got hacked. Yahoo locked her account as “spamming” and she had to get another account. It screwed her Internet and all that went with her cable service. The poor woman! She’s just another fine example of the apathy and heartlessness of this World. Of ALL the people in the world! It’s just more fodder for my own bitterness… the injustices against innocent people. What a metaphysical fuck-up all round. But then her message got into the grit: Days Inn and Doug! Her comments on the Days Inn issue were caring but not in the least bit encouraging. She understands the State of Vermont so much better than I and she knows the laws too, since she spent so much time studying them and working with them. So anything she says, I take as educated in-sight. Still, it wasn’t encouraging in the lest. – But what made reading her words all the worse? Seems Doug is now out after not only me, but J.San’s sister as well! I don’t know what SHE did to piss him off, and I’m sure I’ll never find out. But ME? Really? Hey! Here we go yet AGAIN! So he’s out to get me for something. In a “normal” world, in a “normal” State, I’d simply put it to the side and wait until something came along. In a “normal” environment, I could depend on the sanity of others to take all the details into consideration and account and could be certain that all would end amicably and sanely. UNfortunately, I’m currently stuck in some sort of fictional world, in a dimension where sanity, logic, and rationale no longer exist. And I’m not in the lest bit comfortable with any of it. I don’t like any of this at all. Add to that, Doug has no job and no “real” responsibilities to occupy his time so he has nothing to distract him from going about trying to make peoples’ lives a pure misery. He’s like the tick that finds its way into body cavities that can’t be seen. And now, he’s managed to latch into some secret crevice on my life. Well, here we go. Here comes ANOTHER situation. – I answered Fran’s e-mail right away… in multiple paragraphs. But this time, I was as brutally honest and forth-coming as one of my previous e-mails to Nancy. I’m at the very end of my Life-Rope here and I just don’t care any more. The ONLY thing I want to clarify before I walk out this door (on the very next day when it’s the way I’m waiting for) is that I have spent my entire life-time being the one who brings a little laughter into the lives of others. I insist that people NOT remember me as some miserable shit who went through the world trying to take advantage of anybody. I will NOT just walk away from all of this having people think of me as some kind of thieving indigent, some kind of conniving bastard with a chip on his shoulder. (Fuck me: Border patrol just passed by, the same way they do quite often, and my insides knotted. Shit! Now I’m dealing with paranoia? It’s more than a mind can handle.) So, I’ve always avoided the “pity party” thing, whining and be-moaning my miserable lot in life. And now, this isn’t a “pity party”, but I’ll go down damned if I’ll have people focusing on the rotten moments out of my entire life-time! I KNOW I’ve brought laughter and good things to people. I KNOW this! SOME of those people might bear some witness to that. But I won’t depend on them. Over the course of almost 58 years, I’ve learned that I can depend on not-one-single-soul when MY chips are absolutely down and I’m actually in “NEED”. The little stuff? I’ve got more support and help than I could ever hope for. And yes, I’ve always appreciated that and still do. But, there are extremely serious issues at hand these days and… well… the days are cold, damp, dreary and grey and so too are my resources and support. It’s the way it is, the way it will be and that’s about all that can be said about the matter. The BDM is close at hand and it will be so easy now to simply open and … – 12.50 I can’t believe the past 4 hours have gone right by! Quickly too. The thermometre on the desk here reads 60F but by God, my entire body is just wracked with cold, right through to the marrow. There are things I’ve wanted to accomplish with this day but it doesn’t appear that those will get done… at least not in the immediate future. This morning’s snow turned to rain and the snow on the drive has turned to slush. The temperatures are supposed to be above freezing during the next couple of days but the night-times are expected to drop. I have to get that slush off the drive. It’ll do me some good to be active. A bit of respite. It’ll be heavy shoveling. But maybe… (OH PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE!!!!!) just maybe THIS will the just the thing to stop all this madness. I’m off and out to clear the drive! Not to make it any nicer for anybody. Not to make it appear maintained. I don’t do it for those reasons any more. The drive has become my personal “Russian Roulette” and each time I get to it, I hope the bullet is in place. FIRE! – I’m taking the BDM with me. – 14.32 Well, if there was any doubt at all, here’s the living proof that (a) If there is a “God”, I am NOT loved and (b) there most likely is no “God” because I’m here typing. But the drive is cleared. A sheet of ice under all that slush. But the slush is cleared and Ms. Hilary and Mr. Silas may now pass right along. Fuck me. You’re welcome. – Oh, and at last I managed to adjust the chair for this computer! No more “sitting on the floor”. (As if it makes any difference. Of course, now that I’m more comfortable, something will come along to snatch it all away. I know this to be a fact. Not prophetic. Just a fact.) – 15.36 A young man lingers out-side, on the street, in front of the house. It makes me un-easy. “Why? Why here, at a T in the road where there’s nothing?” He’s met a young girl and they walk away together. And I sit here, on the ready for something terrible to happen. This state of “being” is a living Hell. Trust is so dashed. Almost completely dead.

Wed.13.Feb: I think it’s time to go home. – I planned on being asleep well before now, but a quick check into Twtr and I got wrapped into an exchange on the latest news from Rockaway and, as usual, my heart broke and my stomach churned. I miss it. Very much so. There’s so much to be done to repair so much and here I sit, 3 sweat-shirts and a hood on, trying to keep warm, panicking every time the boiler kicks up. (This oil is not going to last through the month and after it’s gone… well… it’s gone. There’ll be no more coming.) Anyway, it’s down to a decision that has to be made and soon: The “proximity” to HOME? Or go back to where it actually felt like “home”? No matter what the decision comes to, HERE is NOT an option. THIS place is so temporary. Minute-to-minute at this rate. No stability. No “tomorrow”. No packing to think about. Just leave. It’s all a matter of simply getting dressed and heading for the road. With the way I’ve been treated (and ignored) here, I have no sense of debt to any one. Leaving here wouldn’t even leave a ripple. For all intents and purposes, I’ve never been here anyway. And back on The Rock? No enemies to speak of. I never had to wonder who or what was coming after me. There were no filthy rumours. People trusted me. Even when I was living under a tree! I mean… shit! They all knew my situation and still, I was trusted around cash that could have so easily been taken. I was trusted with keys to places that held 100$s in art-work! So easy to walk away with. TRUST! There’s something I haven’t had since the day I got off the plane here! (Save for Robin… bless her!) Things and times were tough, but there was always somebody, somewhere, to go to, at least just to talk about it. I don’t even have THAT much here. Nothing. Nobody. Yes, I can walk back to the “HOME” land from here, get a pack of cigarettes, cheese, Mae West, speak French. But, in the long run, I have to ask myself, come to a decision: Which one is best? And this morning I feel the pressure to decide… quickly. – Well, this is the beginning of another day. It’s time to grab a nap. Looks like Thursday will be the best day to take a stroll HOME. I’ll have time to ponder all of this on the 6-hour walk… alone… on the HOME-land. But meanwhile, I won’t stop thinking about it. – All said and done, at this moment, my mind is full of the ways to walk back to Rockaway. 652km in a relatively straight line. And I can always try for a “Ride-Share”. And when I get back to NYC, there’s always the Shelter. Maybe not the “best” accommodations, but I could certainly do worse. There are decisions to be made, many of them… before sun-rise today. – As I say, my leaving won’t make a difference to anybody here. Hell, it won’t even be noticed. – 12.15 And now for my “lunch break” which will consist of yet another after-noon in the drive. The temperatures are rising just above the freeze and last night’s snow is turning to slush. Seeing a clear drive makes me feel better about the place and the exercise might do me in. I try. – Chomage was posted and so too, the PayPal this morning. I’m rather a little excited about those… as excited as I get these days. Nothing really matters anyway. – The thermo’s been at 50F all night and this morning. Somehow the thermometre in the room registers at 60F but my fingers say -60. Oh well. Interesting though: As long as my hands are a bit uncomfortably cold, the Ulnar-thing doesn’t bother me. Probably because my hands go numb. Pisses me off though, to think I’ve ruined my hands by shoveling a drive that I don’t use and when I do shovel, the only one who actually notices is me. Fucking stupid (of me). But that’s me… stupid to the point of no hope at all. – KADIMA! – 16.02 WELL! ANOTHER shovel to the drive today. Slush abounds. But tomorrow’s forecast is for plus 1C and partly sunny! Hopefully the slush will go, the ice will go… because I will go… early in the morning. I’m OUT OF HERE! – Curiosity hit me just now. PJ used to say that he was certain that the sun set up here sooner than it did in NYC. It made sense, considering the position of the Earth to the Sun in Winter, but I was never quite certain. So I just checked: Today’s sun-set hours are… NYC at 17.28 and BTV at 17.19! Imagine that! Now, imagine: Sun-rise times today… NYC at 6.50 and BTV at 6.53! – That said and recorded… chilly in the house today. But the exercise of shoveling really helped ME be warm. Maybe I should just stay in the drive from wake-to-sleep, shoveling snow, chopping ice, maybe working on thawing the ground, planting grass, paving… generally keeping active at all times. (The sarcasm strikes again.) – Well, so much for this. Now back to “work”. It’s becoming increasingly difficult to stay focused lately because it’s almost impossible to maintain any level of optimism. But today’s focus is really on tomorrow and NOT being IN THIS HOUSE! NOT even being in this COUNTRY! ESCAPE! (May it be the last one.) – 20.45 Just washed a pot, a pan, a bowl, 2 spoons and a coffee cup… First time I’ve run the hot water in almost 48 hours… and THE BLOODYFUCKING HOT WATER RAN DOWN JUST AS I FINISHED WASHING THE BLOODYFUCKING DISHES! This house has GOT to GO GO GO! – Meanwhile, the heat’s up. I’m BLOODYFUCKING COLD! And, I might mention here… BLODDYFUCKING FED-UP! – OK. So that’s out of the way. I did manage to get more done on the editing of the manuscript and actually got a couple of pages that will be slipped in when I get an edit from Nancy. I don’t want to start changing and sending changed copies and such. I appreciate the fact that she’s reading and editing at all. And, SO UN-like MOST people with whom I’ve even been remotely acquainted in the recent past, I am NOT abusive. – There’s water on the stove for a cup of NightyNight tea. There’s about a shot left in the vodka bottle. I shall soon have both and make this an early night! Tomorrow’s forecast is for plus 1C and mostly sunny. (Friday, on the other hand, is plus 4! but rain and a bit of snow.) SO… tomorrow MORNING I will be OUT OF THIS DUMP, this walk-in fridge, and away for the day! Hurray! (Gratuitous rhyme.) – E-mail and a bit of Skype with Nancy this evening. And a YouTube with Stephen Fry this evening as well! All GOOD things! – I’m just really ready for the trip HOME now. This place is getting so that I’m actually, and physically HATING every breath I take in here! It’s all just getting to me. – Earlier, I watched a movie: “Bear City” and, for the first time since I can recall, cried at the end. Happy ending!!! But the worst part of it is that it was filmed in NYC! I KNEW the places! I miss the places. But what has turned my other-wise coping attitude completely to the opposite: The more I think about going back, the more I think about the NOISE. And, believe it or not… I just can’t bear the thought! I caught some shots of NYC after Sandy, some photos of Rockaway. I miss that place so very, very much. It’s quiet enough there. Really, I could go back right now. But there’s nothing left of it and I don’t know where I’d reside. And going to the Shelter would mean: I could work out in Rockaway, helping re-build and such (SHIT! If I can shovel all those tonnes of slush here, I could certainly put that effort into something that SOMEBODY… ANYBODY will appreciate… UN-like here where it’s all just taken for granted and if I receive ANY sort of acknowledgement, it’s SHIT… and even THAT’S given begrudgingly. Fuckme very much if you please.) BUT, staying in the Shelter would mean having to take the trains and buses again, and, well, truth of all is, I can’t stand the very idea of all that noise and all those people packing into those little spaces and such. Dilemma. There’s more thought to be given to this. And not much more time. – Ah… 21.02. It’s been quiet in the house this evening. But now that it’s 21.02 and I’m thinking in terms of getting some early sleep tonight, the little junky up-stairs has decided to crank the music. Isn’t she sweet? Well, I have my alarm set for 6am so that I can trim my beard, shave and shower and be all spiffy for HOME. Rather than tippie-toe about at that hour… As Dear Joyce would say: Pay-back is a bitch… but REVENGE is a Muthufukkuh! – Let’s see what we can entertain and amuse with for a little while longer until it’s time to wrap this day up. – I’m actually all a-jitter with thinking about tomorrow! I have something to look forward to! HOME! And NOT this fecal-covered anus! – What a shame, really. This place started-out as such a joyful little adventure… look at it now. It’s more like the results of a gruesome anal probe performed with a spiked, white-hot prod.

Thu.14.Feb: 8.40 OK. So at 7.00 I woke. Plenty of time to get me together and “presentable” for today’s journey. But standing has been a bit of a problem. Light-headed. Foggy brain. Can’t quite figure it out. Woke out of a dream: At somebody’s house at some sort of gathering of a lot of people. Then it was happening at my house. Two young girls (Sarah and Bridghid? But then again, not… as dreams will do) were making me un-easy for some reason. I’d gone into the kitchen for something and found red berry drink of some kind spilt all over the counter! Worse, it was all over my iPod! Drippinly soaked! I went into the living-room, quietly, angry, but saying nothing because I knew I had no idea who actually made the mess, but as I entered, the two girls bolted for the door! (In the dream I suddenly thought “I HAVE to get up and get ready to leave!” and that’s when I woke.) – Meanwhile, having coffee. HAD to put the heat up this morning. The temperatures are at that point where it’s only JUST warm enough to make everything Marrow-chillingly DAMP! The forecast calls for partly cloudy but the sun is no-where to be seen. And there are occasional snow-flakes falling. It’s -3C just now. But 13.00 it’s supposed to be plus 1C. But the “stroll” takes about 2 hours. So I’m timing it for the “better” temperatures. No matter what, I’m sure there’ll be SOME kind of “amazement” at the frontier again today: “We don’t get people walking in this weather.” Oh well. No matter what… I’m out of here today. Yes, there’s much more to get done with the manuscript. And now, having found the Kindle publishing, I’m REVVED for getting this thing OUT THERE! QUICKLY! This could actually be the “dream come true”! The last thought last night, as I started drifting into sleep: “Who cares about the income? The history will be out at last! To Hell with the money. I can walk away from it all and there won’t be any reason to hang around! FREE!” That said, I still want to get HOME today. And so I shall. – Sad though; since that e-mail from Fran the other day, I wonder what sort of accusations, insinuations, implications and other negatives are lingering in the shadows waiting to jump me now. I wonder how many knives are drawn and at the ready, directed at my back. I wonder. Even as I shoveled the drive yesterday, it was at the “conscious” level: When will the car pull up, the questioning begin, the cuffs pulled and I’ll be dragged along? There’s nothing that I can think of… sanely. But “sanity” no longer exists. It’s existing in a complete shroud of adulterated CHAOS these days. Gone beyond ” surreal” and right into the centre of tangible UNREAL. What a way to go through time. – Well, no sense in lingering. Time to prep. A good walk on the HOME-land will do good. – Oh… “Valentines’ Day”. Right. Bullshit. – 20.17 PAIN! ECRUCIATING PAIN! My hips are all but locked. My legs don’t want to hold my torso up. My feet feel as if I’ve walked over broken glass for a week! I actually HAD to hitch back! – OK. And now on to why I haven’t been this “Happy” in so long that I can’t remember when I was this “Happy”… WHAT… I mean W.H.A.T. a BRILLIANT DAY! INCREDIBLE! (for the most part). – New hair style: I’ve always wanted to try that “modified Mohawk” look and this morning, well, it’s done. Not exactly as I’d hoped, but not too bad, considering I couldn’t see half of what I was doing (with my eye-sight going as quickly and as badly as it is lately). Still, I’m not complaining about it. – Showered, dressed and with utmost anticipation, headed out the door. Went to the banque. Jeezus Kriste! “Unauthorised Use” on my ATM card! So… much to my chagrin, I had to go to schmooze with the nice lady “on the floor”. She was a delight and yes, I got the new card. But she had to “up-date” their “profile” records. That always makes me sickly-nervous. I don’t like it at all. Especially since all will now be associated with this addresse, (the good news, I suppose, is that this addresse won’t be for much longer anyway) and that’s something I truly do not want… here, in this damned god-forsaken State. I mean, my paranoia is in over-drive as it is. But… I walked out with a card… not a “debit”… only for the ATM. But I don’t care. The card works, I got my cash and was on my merry way… NORTH! HOME! The miserable bit was that it put me behind my intended schedule by almost an hour. Still, I was on the road by just before noon, iPod just a-playin’ and spirits in the Heavens! And then the day began… – I could actually put all of the account to follow in CAPS, BOLD, UNDERLINED and all that sort of thing! If I could figure a way to put music in with this, I’d do that too! It was all but INCREDIBLE! As I approached the CDA douanes, the guy opens the window and greets me with a “Bonjour.” and runs through the usual line of questioning as I hand him my passport. But THEN, THEN he tells me that they know me and my travels and says they’d been talking about the last trip when it was so bitter cold and that they were worried I might get frost-bite and such. It just goes to prove two of the many things I’ve always said about CDA: They’re impressively efficient and secure AND they’re amazingly “Human”! As he handed me my passport back he said “Have a safe walk.” and I was off to the Qué.139 and HOME HOME HOME! THIS time, AT LONG LAST, not a “criminal”! As I walked into Abercorn, I could actually FEEL the “HOME” of it. The air just felt embracing, soft, comforting. I just broke into tears. I wanted to just lay down, on the ground, in the middle of the road if needed, and HUG my HOME-land! It felt SO great to be “back” and to welcomed back. Today, for the first time in what seems and entire life-time, I’m “HUMAN” again! It hit me, and it hit me rather hard… in a wonderful way. Yes, indeed, the time to go HOME to stay is not so very far away. And today, the Peace that came with that though settled very deep inside. And so, the walk went along quite well, and this time, at a more relaxing pace. One thing though, for some reason, today’s trot took a lot out of me! By the time I’d reached Sutton today, I was SO SORE! My hips felt as if they’d locked and my legs just burned from merely holding me, and my feet felt as if I’d been walking on shards of glass. I don’t know what I did wrong this time, but it was really painful. I suddenly became frightfully aware of the fact that there was no bus, no relief transport and no place to actually stay for any length of recuperative time. I mean, I really didn’t want to leave… ever. But I knew I had to and the only way to do that was… walk… and walking was something I truly wasn’t sure I could do… not the length of the trip anyway. Maybe it was being over-dressed. It was a really warm day and I had my usual 5 layers, but with jacket open all the way. Still, I was miserably over-warm today. But, me, being the “me” who I am, I just kept right along and went directly to IGA. There was cheese and coffee that I wanted and needed and I wasn’t leaving with-out today! Ah… inside IGA it was a delight. Walking through the aisles, looking for the items I wanted. I FOUND P’tit Québec AND ON SALE! IF I’d known that I didn’t need some kind of card or another to get the sale price, I’d’ve come back with about 4 of them. But, as it was, I bought one! YAY! Then it was on to TIM HORTON’S coffee! Ground (and cooked in a pot, OK!). I have to say I was a bit disappointed though. The IGA is a bit like Richford’s Mac’s: A nice large market offering almost nothing at all at slightly inflated prices. None-the-less, there I was, there were items I needed in the house and so… SUNLIGHT dish detergent! THE ORIGINAL! Smells exactly the same as I’d remembered and ON SALE! WOOHOO! A couple of packets of St. HUBERT BBQ sauce mix and one turkey gravy (poutine) and last but certainly not least, 2 boxes of MAE WESTN (1 box for me, the other for Nancy!) And I was done… and in a great deal of pain from the walking. Already then I didn’t think I’d make it back. At the cashe, I paid, of course, in US$ and was I pissed (mildly) when the nice little girl there informed me that there’s a charge for paying in US and I found out that the “charge” is considerable! It brings the US$ down to 93 cents! BUT… I got my old familiar items and brought more money into the Canadian economy and so, I didn’t mind much at all over-all. So with bag of groceries, I was out… THEN came the loveliest little shock; as I was leaving the market, across the parking lot, waving and greeting me (by name) comes the Jewish guy from the Quincaillerie HomeHardware. After we exchanged greetings and I was leaving the parking lot I thought “Isn’t this wonderful? I’ve even made connections here!” Sutton is becoming a little bit of an established presence already. If only I could find work that would pay enough to find a little place there… I’d be out of Vermont and the US so damned quickly! I strolled across to the Quincaillerie. What I was going to buy is a sign of some sort with blank space on the back where I could write “Allez-vous a Richford?” and HOPE to get a lift back today. But when I got in the store and saw that the sheap plastic signs were 6,99$CDA I thought better of it. Instead, I broke-down and bought the new shower-head with the finer spray and the shut-off! And when I leave the house, no matter where I may end up, it’s coming with me… even if I have to toss it into the garbage. I’ll leave NOTHING of mine in that dump! unless I leave on MY terms… and go HOME. That said, I got into a “home-town” chat with the lady at the cashe. We discussed currency conversions and values and taxes and Pauline and all sorts of things. Yup, little by little, my person is re-joining my soul and HOME is HOME again! From the Quincaillerie it was off to Boni Soir for cigarettes, Mae Wests and a Coke… AND ANOTHER CHAT with a Local! What a day it was! Simply SO wonderful! Brilliant! I’ve got more presence in Sutton now that I have in Richford! (But that, as we shall see, is changing a bit as well…) OK then, loaded down, I headed out the door, sadly, but with the intention of returning on the week-end if the weather permits, and on the side-walks to the open road. Well… in spite of the fact that I was feeling a “part” of even the land I was walking on and the air surrounding me, the pain got to be unbearable! I wasn’t just out-side of Sutton proper when I HAD to sit on a guard-rail! My hips and legs couldn’t take any more! So, for a moment, I rested. It was about 14.05 when I looked and I didn’t much… no, I couldn’t much care about the hour at this point. Just too much pain. When I felt I could move on, (about 3 minutes later), up I got and started to walk again. But… today? It wasn’t going to be. I managed to make it into Abercorn and that was the end. My thumb went up! I wasn’t in a rush and I wasn’t walking quickly at all, so the time spent walking back-ward, hitching, made no difference in my timing. A few cars passed with no luck and suddenly, and in truly short order, another wonderful Québecois stopped! When I told him I was going to the “border” not only did he offer me a lift part of the way but he actually brought me TO the border! So much so that he turned round at the turn-about right there! No matter how much I’ll ever try, I’ll never be able to thank him enough for the wonderful kindness and the rescue he gave me! If he hadn’t stopped, I’d probably be walking on round about 23.00, or I’d be in a field, building an igloo for the night! The pain was THAT bad by now.

So ended today at HOME.. and at the US Customs? Same shit as usual. But today, when I told the guy “I take this walk just about every week.” his reply was “I’ve worked here 2 years and I’ve never seen you before.” Once again, I’m the enigma: I WALK! Others will bike, but apparently nobody “walks”. Right. So what? And of course, there was the “search” of back-pack and coat. And when I could, I asked whether it would be OK to bring those swamp reeds with me… since they grow just across “the border”. The answer: “Gee, I don’t know what to tell you. I’d have to call an Agriculture Specialist”. WHAT? Oh yes, even the farmers who have fields have to go through all sorts of shit: If they have to drive a tractor or some vehicle on a road that cross the border (as opposed to simply staying in the area with their crops) the have to WASH ALL SOIL of their vehicle because one can’t take the chance of bringing in “soil”. Truly? What a bunch of complete idiots these “law-makers” are. But, I’d been with the wonderful people of HOME today, had chats and such and in spite of all the pain, I was still quite Happy! and US bloques didn’t stand a chance of ruining that! TODAY WAS MINE! and nobody, especially not some dim-witted “American” was going to take my JOY from me! Well, I accepted what he said, told him it wasn’t worth the bother (figured there are other ways of getting those reeds… from Québec or else-where) and after putting my “clothes” back on, I was on the VT 139… and noticing how completely difference the US side is: cracked, heaving, and NOT plowed… slushy all along! – When I got back to the house, I dropped the back-pack and headed out for vodka. Tonight I needed it more than ever… hoping it would relax me enough to take away the pain from the walk. Now, at Wetherby’s tonight, I bump into “Richard” whom I’ve seen many times at Mayhew’s… and he was the one who called-out and waved to me a while back on the bridge. OK. Now I have a name… and did we have a “chat”. He told me that, as far as he knows, not only can I get the seasonal oil help, but, as far as he believes, I can go for “Emergency” help as often as 3 times in addition. Well! I’m certainly not going to take his word on it, but it’s rather strange that I’ve become so accustomed to the coolness in the house from not using the heat that I probably won’t need to anyway. Besides, if I’m going to be tossed from here in a matter of a month I’ll be DAMNED if I’m leaving much more than a quart in the goddamned tank! I owe nothing to ANYbody round here and OIL is the LEAST I’ll leave! But chatting with Richard on the corner this evening was rather nice. OK. So he’s not Richford’s elite. But he IS “Richford”. And, I say rather uneasily, he’s looking for somebody to “hang” with. While we stood at the corner chatting on this “balmy” eve, I met a couple more of “Richford”… Oddly(?) we were all coming from the same place for the same thing this evening… a bottle of “stamina”. HAH! As I left and walked up the hill to the house, I looked at the house and thought, again “I’m establishing here… only to have it ripped from me… AGAIN! AS ALWAYS!” and my elation of the day turned round to the opposite, and with it came the anger. But the time I got back in, I was sore, tired, exhausted, ANGRY AS ALL HELL, and on the way to… another evening of the big “D”. – Tonight’s meal? cheese and egg sandwiches, cooked only because I knew I needed to put SOMETHING in my system other than the customary vodka. And so, the last of the previous P’tit Québec went into the “meal”. But THERE’S MORE! AND TIME HORTON’S COFFEE for the morning! Well OK! for that! – To round off the day, I had a bit of “chat” with Nancy on Skype which made me feel a bit better. – Bottom line though: I’ve said it many times over the years and I’ll say it all again today: It’s not “perfect” but the people in Québec have always been and remain MUCH MUCH BETTER HUMAN-BEINGS than ANY I’ve met in the US.

Fri.15.Feb. 1.06 attacked on Twiter! And then… and THEN, a bit of Twitter. THAT proved to take me into the wee hours of the morning and WOW! Did I ever get SLAMMED by some idiot shit who saw a couple of “Roy’s” postings and when I commented on them, they were mis-read and because the shit didn’t know the history of my HELPING Roy, he came at me with guns a-blaze! It turned me SO completely into a rage! My words went flying across the key-board and the more angry I got, the more I had to drink thinking I now needed something to take the edge off or I’d never get any sleep, never get any rest. And my lower back was burning, my leg muscles were burning, my feet were incredibly sore and well… the flood-gates of Hell broke open until I just couldn’t take any more abuse! Meanwhile, somebody else started Twting in Hebrew! and as that progressed, my mind reeled in 3 languages… all at once! I’m not even certain what time it was when I finally just stopped, blocked the attacking shit-head AND Roy, who defended the idiot and had a couple of nasty comments to throw at ME! ME! The one who was “summoned” to “HELP” poor Roy and who was thanked repeatedly by Roy. There! Just like when i ask to have something re-tweeted, these morons show their true colours. I was thoroughly pissed beyond words at this point. Disappointed to the ultimate extreme. Honestly? I hope more people read these words, especially those on my little Twtr line because it’s been one of the “Ultimate” insults: Not one, not ONE could do me that little “click” to re-tweet. So, tonight, as I signed-off I vowed: They can all rot, the entire lot of them. I wouldn’t even go to the length to say “Fuck ’em!” because they don’t deserve even that much. I’m at the end… THE END of it! For the MOST of them… it’s DONE! Meanwhile… quickly I add: It was another night of Silas being on Skype and not mentioning a single word. So tonight, in my mood, I simply left a message for HIM: “Are you avoiding me for some reason?” and THAT is how this other-wise BRILLIANT day came to a crashing halt. – 9.48 Well, indeed. I woke with this morning’s 6.00 alarm, listened to it for a bit from under the blankets… and went right back to sleep until 7.30, at which hour I decided there wasn’t any particular reason to get up just yet and drifted off to some-where half-sleepy. Funny, I dreamt that I’d gotten ever so drunk last night, got onto Twtr and sent all sorts of garbled messages out! THAT woke me up! But not hurriedly. There’s not much about this day that gives me incentive to be awake, other than getting a “Publishable” version of the book done. Other than that… And of course, when I woke, the snow was falling… HUGE bunches instead of “flakes”. The rapid accumulation was (is?) really quite amazing. Will I shovel? We shall have to wait and see. Meanwhile, I shocked me this morning: counted the “change” from my Québec shoppings… I have enough to get a coffee press! BINGO! Back to the “Good Old Days” of taking the bulk of my income from here to there. AND… with what I have here, I won’t be paying 93 cents on the dollar! WOOHOO! Now, all I have to do is recover from yesterday and I’ll be off. (Today? Doubtful. Yesterday’s pains are gone. Today it’s gone to feelings of “bruised”. Perhaps tomorrow…) – 20.32 Well, all said, this has turned into an almost completely wasted day. I had a chat with Nancy AND SILAS, lo and behold, on Skype this morning. And that was the “highlight” of it all. I didn’t get out the door, save to check the mail. The skies eventually cleared and this morning’s snow rather melted from the drive. – I had a REALLY WONDERFUL video-chat with MOTEK! He’s sent some material for his web-site and we discussed that for a bit along with other topics. It was a sheer delight to see him, hear his voice. He gave me support and encouragement and constructive cirtique on the book and made it so that I’m SO looking forward to getting this thing done… over this week-end… and having it in e-Publish come the week! I’ll have to totally read through it, make decisions and get it done… solo. Time is now of the essence, particularly because I’ve noticed that there’s just under 2 more weeks left to this month and then… and then? WHAM! I.M.FUKKD! – I’ve been horribly sore all day too. It’s been an effort just to get up from a chair and walk the distance to the kitchen! Truly so painful! So much so that it actually just got even into my brain… all day I’ve been “off”. Just can’t thing or see correctly. Can’t really focus, visually or mentally. Everything’s been going to the pain. BUT… I’m still pondering going back up to Sutton tomorrow… there’s a coffee press I’d like very much to have. It’ll pay itself in what I’ll spend on coffee from now on. It won’t be my Bustelo, but it WILL be fresh coffee! I’ve enough to buy the press, in $CDA so, if I can get my shoes on and make my way up the road, I’ll try the hitch into town and hope for a lift in both directions. The temperatures are dropping rapidly tonight, so it’ll be rather chilly tomorrow. Good walking weather all round. And… I’ll get to go HOME again! Be with really nice people! YAY ME! – 20.45 There’s something bumping round about the house. it’s a bloody shame but ever since I went to the banque to get the new ATM card, I’ve been sitting here, waiting for the “authorities” to come along. Well, if they do, at least I’m here in the house with the “Bittersweet Nightshade Martini” close at hand. They might take ME, but my soul will be OUT OF HERE before they get the chance to go for that. They can take my dead carcass with them. – Anyway, most of the day was spent watching “QI”. “Meal” was lentil soup with a bit of Parmesan cheese. This house is almost completely devoid of food… and I just don’t bloody well care. Tomorrow I’ll open the bag of rice, cook and add some frozen veggies and some pasta sauce. There’s a frozen pizza in there, but it’s a good one and I don’t want to get at that until I MUST because the closest place to get another is in Enosburg and I’m certainly NOT going to walk the 40km there and back! Yes, I could get my instant coffee whilst there as well. But if I’m going to walk all that distance, I’ll be twice-fukked! HOME! in that distance… certainly NOT Vermont! – The garbage never got put out today and just a bit ago I suddenly realised: It’s Friday… I didn’t bother with the FollowFriday shit on Twtr today, I didn’t clean the floors, didn’t bother with the Shabbat candles. Nothing. My head’s not been “with me” at all today. Oh well. It makes no difference anyway. For some reason I’m just too chilly tonight and I’ve got the heat up for a bit. Warm the house a touch before crashing back under the blankets. I was going to shower, make a wash… Nothing accomplished. So tomorrow, if I don’t get HOME, there’ll be A LOT OF WORK to be done… ESPECIALLY ON THE BOOK!!!!!

Sat.16.Feb: 8.23 What a delight… to be awake… and breathing… again… on another day. (The thought of the morning… Sarcastically.) Other-wise: What a delight to wash a basin-full of dishes first thing in the morning. But there’s no sarcasm in that statement. The heat from the wash-basin’s hot water wafted up from the sink with the scent of lemon… Sunlight! For the first time in so very too many years, it was “HOME”! Henri Julien! And as I did the dishes, I could hear the old wringer-washer droning, I could hear the TV in the next room, French. Laundry hanging on the line on the back gallerie, not so much drying as freezing. And once again, for a brief moment, this morning, I was HOME. – Meanwhile, back to reality. A note this morning before diving back into the manuscript: As I washed the dishes, in “hot” water that truly wasn’t so very “hot” (there truly is something wonky about that water heater and I don’t like it), a very cold draft blew across the back of my neck. And then, as suddenly as it happened, it stopped. There are “pockets” of cold air in this house that do that. Sitting in a chair, watching something on the computer, all fine, all comfortable and… COLD air in the face. This house is… not “right”. Quite to the point, this State is not “right”. – Minus 8C this morning. Clear skies. High temperature of minus 6 today. Partly cloudy. Could have been a good day to get back up to Sutton. But I’ve got blisters on the sole of my right foot. No travel this day. Tuesday’s temperature forecast for zero. But a chance of light snows. Maybe? And out-side, the drive is sheeted with ice. Oh well. Let the day commence. This manuscript WILL be out of here by the week! – (Catching up a week later… on the 23rd) Good thing I jotted notes along the way… – The guy who always passes by the house and gives me the strangest glares is moving all day. He carries furniture and such on his head or boxes of all kinds of things. In a way, it puts me back in NYC where it’s not uncommon to see people moving house on the streets, buses and subways. But it makes me physically sick every time I see him. Slaps me in the face with the reminders of how temporary this house and my “place of residence” are now. Time… just never enough time for anything. My fault really. I’ve put myself in a position of dependance… on somebody who’s mental stability is so fragile that well, all along, at any moment the world can come crashing in on me. The entire situation makes me completely ill. But the book comes along. If I can get that out there, let people know. But even that has it’s moments. Let’s just say: with the experiences I’ve had all along, even those who have “claimed” to be SO supportive of me in so many ways (and have, at time of need, disappeared into the Great Miasma that is) are ALL going to vanish. Deep inside each one… they don’t give a jolly fukkall. Not a one. Nobody will “buy” the book because nobody gives a shit, not about the book, not about the story, and, bottom line… not one shit about me. Oh sure, they’re all there as long as I’m doing ever so well. But come down to a “need”? Honestly, I wish I could bend round to my back-side: I’d find more love and affection my shoving my own face into my own anus. But I suppose that’s not the point. Get the story out… out of my system… just get it out. – This evening, I put a HUGE pot of rice and onion on to cook thinking it would be enough for a day or so. TOO TOO much! But I had 2 bowls for “dinner” tonight with a bit of pasta sauce on. It’s really something: the fridge is all but empty, cup-boards too. So un-like when the first few months of being here when there was SO much food in the house. Truth: I don’t care. Not worth making food because I don’t have appetite any more. Just plodding along here, waiting for the moment when it’s all “gone”. – Had a bit of a chat with Silas this evening. I’d venture to say he’s pulled himself off his meds again. Tells that Teddy is finishing at the end of the week. That causes me much concern because that means he might be back here and want the computer. I’m so close to finishing the book and BAM! But? I’m stupid for ever thinking anything would be different. His “tone” in his messages is “removed”. No joking, no levity. Seriously? The ONLY real nasty bit he’s got is being stuck with this place and the lease. Car, place to live scott-free, mommies… his debts still astound me: How he managed to piss away over 40k in just about a year… and have nothing to show for it… all so he could get laid! And then whines about it. Oh well. – Twitter tonight got to me. It started out with general comments on the Obama shit and went off on a tangent. Really had me wound tightly. I simply had to walk away from it. I don’t understand how so many people can be so upset about the economy and do nothing. And then there’s the issue about the bloody Bleeding Hearts: save the people, save the illegals, save the… bull-shit. I’m sitting here freezing most of the time because I can’t afford to keep the thermo set higher than 50F. I can’t get work, can’t even afford to get a cheap car to go find work… How about starting your bloody bullshit “save the people” nonsense right here? If somebody posts that they’re “studying” some bullshit, or “looking into” or doling out some under-wear to somebody, these bitches and bastards are right there at the ready! Ah… but… you know what? I don’t need to think about this any more. I go back to the day when I said to Liz: I should walk about with my trousers down, arse pre-greased.

Sun.17.Feb: 8.49 Finally go to sleep… cot at 2.45 this morning. Just waking to begin the day. Late! There’s much work to be done! – Well, the day is over and indeed, I dove into the editing and that pretty much covers this date. Good thing though… at least I can’t say I did “NOTHING”!

Le Décision 2013

Mon.18.Feb: 6.23 To bed at about 23.00 last night. Up at a better hour this morning. And “off to work”. I’ve got a dead-line and about 300 pages to read through! Wanted to get to Sutton. Doesn’t look like that’s happening today. – And Sutton didn’t happen today. Didn’t get the 300 pages edited… but it’s encouraging to watch the amount of pages to be done decreasing. This book is coming along!

7.19 It’s been a recurring thought as I read the manuscript, alone, these past few days: “Well, would you look at this.. as I sit here reading the entire manuscript by myself, I’m going through and finding all sorts of typos and grammatical errors that were never picked-up by the computers that I used to type the many different manifestations of this document. But gee… I’d asked several others to read through the very same copy of this very same document and not one has come back with anything more than having noticed “a couple” of typos, no specific references. WOW! I’m reading a Journal written at a time when I was abandoned by those people who called themselves my “friend”, who turned their backs on me when I was in need, and here, today, this very morning… the bull-shit hasn’t changed one iota. Once again, I actually asked for specific help and once again I get shit-on. I have to smile as I type this. If I were to mention it directly to anyone I’d asked for help, I’m really quite certain they’d become indignant, insulted. But the fact is: I am editing the manuscript… ALONE! This isn’t a “humbling” experience; this, again, is showing me exactly what my actual “worth” is in the eyes, hearts and minds of those who profess to “be there” when I “need”… I am, all too simply, not worth the effort. I think this makes for a great addition to the “Acknowledgements” page. – 7.34 There are entries in this manuscript that I don’t understand. It would be a complete delight to have the original notes with me right now. And once again, thoughts turn to the “promises” of “help” to go and get my things from storage. The note books are in there… Yup… SO much “help”. What a total fuck right up through the bowels, stuff the lungs and shoved right through the old eye-sockets. What a bunch of fucking lying bastards. I have no love left. It’s all a matter of “convenience” to the lot of them. And I’m not “convenient”. Ah… this is the lesson I woke for this morning. – Meanwhile… SHIT! It’s bitter-cold in here, in this room, in this house! – 16.26 Save for the moments out of the house this afternoon, I’ve been editing all day! But now, as the sun begins to set, this house is so cold that typing is becoming almost impossible! My hands and fingers are so bitter COLD! But I don’t dare to turn the heat up… I have no idea how much oil is in the tank and this is, after all, still only February and there won’t be another delivery… this season. –

Thu.19.Feb: 20.00 and finally!!! I’ve actually spent the entire day editing! About 245 pages more to go. Editing averages 10 pages per hour and I’m almost frantic at this point! This means SO DAMNED MUCH TO ME that SOME THING… SOME BODY… is going to come along and SNATCH IT AWAY! And JUST before it goes to publish! You watch… mark my word. I’ll be SO BLOODY FUCKED! – That said, I’ve just come out of the shower… THE NEW shower-head is the old SHEARTON MT. ROYAL! WHAT A DAMNED DELIGHT TO SHOWER! HOME!!! (And of course, I smell considerably better! I was actually at the point of disgusting myself… not to mention, the house was actually beginning to take on that “Old Man” stench! AND… clothes are in the washer, dishes in the machine. FUCK IT ALL TONIGHT! YAY! (Of course, one shower and as I knew, NO HOT WATER to wash dishes! 30 gallons in the water heater my bloody arse! Lying son of a bitch… But that’s not fair… to bitches.) Anyway, there was a perfect reason to use the dish-washer tonight. It heats the water on it’s own. Tah-fucking-dah! – So… now to have a bit of “fun”, get on the Twits for a bit. Hopefully I’ll get another 10 pages edited before passing out tonight. – Well, there was a great deal of work done on the editing today! AND, I managed to get laundry done AND a SHOWER! Showers are rare of late. – Took some time to get into Twitter this evening. What a damned idiot-mess THAT was. Some moron pretending to be Homeless! There are a few things in the World that will put me over the edge… pretending to be Homeless is at the very top of that list. AND, this idiot had a couple of comrades! One of whom actually want to engage me in some sort of battle! Interesting note how-ever: When I re-posted the insulting notes to me, so that all of those who “follow” my “Time Line” could see them… NOT ONE SIMPLE-MINDED APATHETIC BITCH OR BASTARD made ANY comments! Yes… THESE ARE THE DAYS OF LEARNING… AND I HAVE DONE! As I said several times in the Shelter Journal: FUKKEMALL! Worthless, over-all, in my “Life”… the lot!

Wed.20.Feb: No chomage! Phoned. All’s OK. Monday was a fed. holiday so it got pushed back a day. – SNOW SNOW SNOW!!!!! (but as long as the snow falls, I have a “house” in which to reside). – Shoveled and 1 hour later… SNOW SNOW SNOW again. Oh well. At least I got out, got air, got exercise. – Today, I only did half of H.s space and I don’t care. I’m certainly not wasting my editing time on clearing the entire yard and since it’s not appreciated anyay… – It’s turning into a “Slow editing day”… Distracted by the snow and the feeling I should clear the drive. (Dumbass me.) – 17.17 The snow started lightly at about 20.30 last night and has been steadily falling ALL through! The drive got shoveled once already today. I’m now getting ready to do it AGAIN! Gee, so far this season, I’ve saved Silas and Ms. Hilary 335$. Today we can add another 30$ to that, and if this snow keeps falling? And all I keep thinking about is “when the warm weather comes” and… I’m still waiting for some piss-party moaning from Silas about some bills. Ah… alas.. Oh, still no “thanks” for any of the maintenance round here. – Quickly: The thermostat has been at 50F from since last night, the heat hasn’t been up at all over that time. Oddly… the temperature in the room stays at about 60F, but the little heater in the kitchen, set at 59F just never stops! And yes… this bloody house is BITTER COLD! As for the drive… this snow began as rain last night… under the snow is a charming sheet of nothing but ice. Makes for jolly work. – 19.36 JUST IN from shoveling the bloody drive! – Some late night Skype chat with Silas this evening. I say nothing about here, he asks nothing about here. Done.

Thu.21.Feb: 19.26 A rather fukked day. Began rather OK, aside from having to go shovel the snow taken down into the drive by Hilary when she drove out of here this morning and into the side snow bank. Editing began at about 7.00 until “lunch” which was about 3 hours of shovelling. Then, a bit more editing. A quick bite to eat. Chomage came through so I went “into town” for an Absolute, a few things to “eat” and some cigarettes. I’m in for the duration! – We’ve had WELL WELL WELL OVER a foot or 2 of snow in the past about 24 hours! AMAZING! Personally? I hope it keeps coming!!! (It’s warmer in the house when it snows… insulation!)
23.28 OK! So now it comes to Hilary complaining that HER place smells of “stale cigarette smoke”! Indeed, I strongly suspect it’s the sage that I’ve been burning of late to clear the house of the stale stench caused by the fact that the furnace hasn’t been used in… oh… WEEKS… since I can’t afford another oil delivery and what’s in the tank has to last in case of bitter freeze. But the Skype message came through from Silas this evening that Hilary is complaining. OK! I just shot off an e-mail, enumerating the days when the drive got cleared and the fact that what Hilary is smelling is the burning sage. Am I beyond “pissed”? Oh, indeed I am! She’s gotten a double space to park in the back yard, access to the garage, a clear path to her porch ALL through the snow season. HOURS! It’s taken me HOURS to do that work… with a shovel!
[2/20/2013 11:20:49 PM] Loup Nordique: But what do think about the book? Finally! On the market! Did you ever get to read any of the “blog”?
[2/20/2013 11:21:08 PM] Silas Burton: You found a publisher?
[2/20/2013 11:21:15 PM] Loup Nordique: Yup.
[2/20/2013 11:21:24 PM] Silas Burton: Thats fantastic Jude!
[2/20/2013 11:22:49 PM] Loup Nordique: The editing has been a complete BITCH! I asked nancy to help with it but… never mind about that. I’ve been putting in about 12 hours every day, only correcting typos and adding a couple of explanatory notes. Wrote an “Intro” of sorts to explain the vague items.
[2/20/2013 11:24:15 PM] Loup Nordique: Beleive it or not, I’m putting my entire day… SHIT! my entire LIFE into this thing now! I slapped a couple of excerpts onto Twitter and the reactions have been amazing! (PS: I took your advice and took the blog off of general access. Bril idea… yours.)
[2/20/2013 11:29:26 PM] Loup Nordique: There’s another book in the works too, simultaneously… it’s “Prose Essay”… completely non-rhyming sort of “poetry”. I was in a Writers’ group in Rockaway, read a few pieces. One of the columnists for the local large paper asked me when I was going to put together an anthology. I laughed. Well… she’d told a friend of hers who worked for the NY Times and that columnist came one evening to listen to a couple of pieces. Said I’d be a “complete idiot” if I didn’t do something with the works. So? WTF? Eh?

Loup Nordique
[2/20/2013 11:48:18 PM] Silas Burton: I need to sleep hun.. got a long day tomorrow -,-
[2/20/2013 11:48:26 PM] Silas Burton: I’ll let you know how it goes
[2/20/2013 11:48:38 PM] Loup Nordique: I know. Is it getting any better?
[2/20/2013 11:50:17 PM] Loup Nordique: Just remember… when nobody else might seem to… I have all the confidence in the World in you. Go get your rest. DRESS WARM AND RELAX! It’s only mail. And I KNOW you put more into it all than anybody else does. Sleep peacefully.
[2/21/2013 3:23:11 PM] Silas Burton: Just got done with the review (or rather finished up around 1pm) — good chance I’ll get fired. David (the PM) has his own job under review as well. He took a picture of his own vehicle, and forgot to curb his tires. Thats a write up / firing offence in the Postal service. They’re also pissed at him that he’s had so many accidents.
[2/21/2013 4:38:15 PM] Silas Burton: Alright — touchy subject so don’t get mad at me. Hilary has been texting me complaining that her apt smells like stale cigarettes. Asked me to ask you to tone it down. I’m not there, so I can’t say which way or another. But she’s pretty upset about it, so letting you know. She says her apartment and laundry room smells pretty strongly.
[2/21/2013 4:38:21 PM] Silas Burton: When she gets home.

Silas Burton
[2/21/2013 11:06:23 PM] Loup Nordique: The stale “cigarettes” is sage. And may I ask without getting into some childish fit: Why would she text you when she has to come to the front door to get her mail and could mention it to me directly?
[2/21/2013 11:08:38 PM] Loup Nordique: I have the thermostat set at a steady 50. It’s butt fuck freezing in here. I keep the windows closed. There’s no circulation of air since the boiler doesn’t kick up. It gets a little “stale” smelling in here so I use the sage to clear the air. You said she doesn’t like the smell of sage burning. I try to keep it to a minimum in spite of the fact that it’s OK to smoke weed in the house but cigarettes are forbidden.
[2/21/2013 11:08:57 PM] Loup Nordique: But I thank you for the heads up.
[2/21/2013 11:09:26 PM] Loup Nordique: How about i send the bill for the shoveliinig for the season since I garner no benefit from maintaining the drive?
[2/21/2013 11:10:26 PM] Loup Nordique: Nor the fact that it seems to be OK to put garbage in the barrel on the back porch. So… I’m the “Official Nigger of Richford” now? Shovel the snow, take out the garbage?
[2/21/2013 11:11:20 PM] Loup Nordique: You know what? This shit’s not worth the typing. FUCK IT!
[2/21/2013 11:31:11 PM] Silas Burton: *sighs* Alright.

Emails from today:

Please pull your stuff off my comp, gonna come by and pick it up tomorrow. And if you
have any business online, I’d conduct it if not tonight, then tomorrow morning, gonna
bring the modem to comcast and cancel service. Will be by for the rest of my clothing /
bedding tomorrow or saturday.

Jude. She asked me to talk to you, which I’ve done. so I’m done. I’m not going to enforce this, I’m not going to get emotions involved.
I’ve done what she asked, because the alternative is her talking to Don, which I don’t want to happen.

and if you want a bill of sale, its this: 800$.This is what Connie is going to keep; probably already is keeping. So Monday is my last dayat the PO, I got -maybe- another month with Teddy working 20 hours a week 10 bucks an hour. I’d like to get the 800$ back in August but hellI’d also like a golden pony. I’m not really optimistic. It is what it is. So smoke, burn sage, burn crack, burn the house down – its like I’mdoing it, because Connie and Don do not recognize you as living there and hold me accountable for everything that happens there.

and fuck forks sake I seriously have too much on my plate at present, you’re right she needs to be talking to you but she won’t so she goes through me. I get to be the bad guy so she doesn’t have to fucking worry. and i get to be yelled at for being the middle-man. I get to get fucked by my landlords, have the place over analyzed and picked apart when it was a dump to start off. I want to talk about nice stuff, friendly stuff, your new book, montreal, twitter. i just can’t deal with thsi shit no more.

Okay one moment I think I’m reading a declaration of war the next a love letter.

Disgregard previous letter. I’m not getting my stuff. I’m not fucking you over.

I need to fucking relax. I need to be happy. I’ve faced death at this fucking job. I’m at my wits end.
and I would really rather not worry about this shit in Richford. please? please jude? please?

im just gonna dissapear… im already a ghost mine as well quit while im ahead. cant watch that dissapointed look in people’es faces any more while i fuck up and fail. can’t leach off of mom anymore. what would it cost to be done? to walk away? and yet ill cling on to every single last shred painful second of life, like you hold on to a baby tooth thats clearly ready to fall out

i fucking fantasize about death on a daily basis now and still im terrified that something’s going to answer my prayers. its fucking pathetic. looking into those headlights after sitting there wishing it would end and terrified those were my last moments. listen you can black mail me, have me commited, whatever… everything im saying here is unstable and fucking crazy… i admit that. ive hit an all time low of dispair right now, and i have noone. and its my fault. i don’t trust anyone, and nobody trusts me. and when i go ill miss everyone, and wish i’d let them know a little more then the selfish shit in my small disorganized and immature world.

publish the book. im not going anywhere or doing anything. im sorry for this night, try to forget that it happened. or remember it, and hold it against me. you really can’t hate me any more then i do myself, however pathetic that sounds. im loathsome, and criminal, spiteful and hateful and fucking pathetic.

Fri.22.Feb: 19.20 (laid down for a bit of a nap an hour ago and completely SLAM-CRASHED in sleep!) The days are full lately and today is certainly no exception to that. This morning, I could barely get myself up, from being SO painfully exhausted! And I mean “painfully”. But the garbage had to go out as did the recyclables. So, a mere 3,5 hours after I’d laid my head on the pillow, I was dragging myself across the floors of this house. The garbage went out as did the recyclables and I sat at the computer… to edit. It was mostly to avoid thinking about the possibilities of this day. I just couldn’t allow myself to ponder the computer going and the book, so close to being ready, being dead. And “dead” is how it feels now. This little bit of my life has taken it’s own “Life”. It’s become an infant somehow. – LETTER FROM BERNIE SANDERS about the Days Inn bit… as expected and anticipated, condescending and patronising and of NO help AT ALL! – COVER FOR THE BOOK DONE! and many more pages edited! RESPONSIBLE ME! – And now I’m completely wiped-out!

Sat.23.Feb: 7.12 Bad start to the day today… feeling quite ill. Maybe the ice cream before bed last night… or too much chlorine gas inhalation. Not sure. But my guts are all in knots. – 57F in this room this morning. Brisk winds on the out-side. Cloudy. Weather says 0C out there. High of 1C with quelques flocons ce matin et pluie et neige c’après-midi. Flocons pour demain aussi. -3C. I don’t know. – Meanwhile, it’s time to get to the editing. No days off with this. But it has to get DONE! FINISHED! NOW! It’s bothering me terribly that there are gaps in the Journal. If only I could get to the originals! But right now, that’s not exactly possible. I keep thinking of all the empty promises of “help” to get to storage in NYC. Over a year’s worth of fucking lies. People truly think me a worthless piece of shit. And yet, with the instability, even this morning, with all of this time here… well… the bottom line is: I’ll walk away from what is here soon anyway. What’s the difference? The books and the art-work in NYC or here… one way or another, it’s all going to end up in the trash some-where. Still… daily, I think of the lies. – 8.04 My guts are exploding this morning! Not a good day coming, as I see it. And in my search for some notes and chats I see Silas is logged into Skype at this hour. Hmmm…. None of my business… none of my concern. Just noting.

Sun.24.Feb: 9.31 Been at the editing for the past 2 hours or so now. REALLY NOT FEELING WELL AT ALL THIS MORNING! SO TIRED! Don’t know why… I slept from midnight to 6.30. – 12.20 Quite the “romantic” sort of a day … for a New England “author”. Drizzly. Grey. Not too cold. The snow on the roof is sliding. Amazing photo op! I should take a break for lunch but I’m not hungry. Frighteningly, I actually thought of pouring a drink! At NOON? Oh… it’s coming to THAT now! Frightening. – Listening to Cynthia Schloss… “Someone Loves You Honey” and Zuri comes RUSHING into my mind! “Send Me The Pillow You Dream On” and Margaret, from the Shelter! How I SO wish I could pour myself into a LARGE bottle of vodka and drown at the bottom it it! – Back to “work”. This book WILL get published! Or be the death of me. (I just can’t trust this place or anything that has anything to do with it. It’s the “not knowing” and “not being able to trust ANYbody” that’s killing me.) – BACK TO WORK! – 23.15 This truly is a “Bitter-sweet” date: The first “edit” of the book is complete. I never would have known that re-living those days in the Shelter could shove so many emotions through my entire Being. And when, tonight, about an hour ago, I got to the end, what amazed me most, being so far removed from the actualities, is that I actually broke-down and cried. It was a most remarkable experience, watching my-self “grow” through the entire experience. Confusion became understanding, chaos became education. I actually watched as the people whom I feared most became some of the closest “friends” as time passed. And then, at the end, the feelings of actually missing the guys, feeling so lost with-out them… It’s thrown me back into that mind-set where I didn’t want to be bothered with any-one who’d never experienced the “Homeless” and “Shelter” existence. In essence, it’s put me back into that mind-set. But… this is only the first of a few runs through. There are still certain references that I have to go back and change, little items that require explanations. But the major run is complete. – I also find that I’m really rather disgusted: I did the entire edit… alone. And that again puts me back in the Shelter mind-set. No assistance. Even down to the simple point of having asked different opinions about the design for the cover… and receiving… silence. Wow! It is… an enlightenment. – That said, tonight, in stead of heading up the stairs to the little room at the top of the stairs at some early hour of the following day… tonight I’ll be wrapping-up and heading up the stairs round about mid-night. And tomorrow? The bits of change, a sort through any photos I might still have that might lend well to the finished product and… PUBLISH! – As a closing thought for this day:
I dropped into Homelessness… alone. I was left alone to live on beach dunes and under a tree. I went into hospital alone. I stayed in hospital alone. I left the hospital alone. I rode to the Shelter alone. I stood, very much alone, at that dark entrance to the Shelter. Alone, I went through the “Intake”, stood-up to the barrage of insults. For every moment in the Shelter, I was alone. Alone, I came out of the Shelter. Alone, I went to the airport to come to Vermont. Alone, I learned my new surroundings. Alone… VERY ALONE… I’ve gone through the anguish and agonies of even the Judicial system. And tonight… I’m here, in this house… alone. There is nothing left to be said.

Mon.25.Feb: 7.58 This morning, I slept through the alarm, waking only moments ago. Almost 8 hours of sleep… too much. And here it is, Monday. The manuscript is almost ready to go. A few corrections and modifications and such. It’s rather exciting. But it’s Monday… and I don’t like it. – 24.40 Another ENTIRE day editing! It’s been difficult to say the least. This is more work that most people can imagine… especially, I’m certain, no doubts… Mr. SB. I WILL get this published! (Of course, I don’t expect anybody to support the book. I know just so much too much better.) But at least it will be “out there”. – This evening I took my usual “Twitter” break and… once again… I got tossed off. Right then. Time for a nap anyway. In a couple of hours I’ll be back at the editing. It’s become my entire day… every single moment I’m awake… and my eyes are open.

(I HAVE NO IDEA WHAT HAPPENED ON TUESDAY! ANOTHER REALLY LOST DAY! It’s just been being so involved with getting this book finished before this too gets torn from me! And truly? I suppose this is the entry for today because every second of time has been “THE BOOK”!)

Tue.27.Feb: 7.30 And away we go… again. Tired. But here we go! – 12.16 Lunch time… or what-ever. I’ve been at the manuscript non-stop, save potty, coffee and a couple of smokes (taken OUT-side, I should like to note). My eyes are about to shut again, but I’m SO SO SO close to finishing the editing part! I just don’t want to stop! – The reason I’m noting here and now is that the snow is finally falling from the roof! MASSIVE THUDS and the floor rumbles! But the funniest and most entertaining bit is: when I see these massive blankets of snow soaring past the window, I see them from the corner of my eye… and it almost looks as if it’s someBODY tumbling to the ground! (Sounds like it too.) Ah… if it weren’t for the fact that it’s SO BLOODY COLD in here, I’d be in a bit of Heaven… Winter in the North Country! – OK. Back to work. – 13.36 I have just finished the last key-stroke of the Manuscript… and it is more painful than I can express. This house is quiet, empty and very cold. A wet snow is falling out-side the window that I know I will not have for much longer. And I am… as always… alone. Just… alone. There are just a few minor adjustments, a few minor “tweaks” to be accomplished and then, there is the one last challenge… PUBLISH! and my sojourn will end, my purpose will be completed, and no matter what happens from that point forward will be of no concern or consequence. I will HOPE with all the energy that has been “me” that many will read my words, and that many will be touched by my words, and that many more will see exactly “WHO” and not “WHAT” the Homeless truly are. I don’t hope that positive change will come in my life-time, particularly because I don’t see that as being a very long-term today. But I will hope that very soon, there will be positive changes to the treatment of and assistance given to today’s Homeless and that at some point in the near future, Homelessness will become little more than a brief and inconsequential point in an obscure history.

17.12 UP-LOADED TO BE PUBLISHED! AT LAST!

23.42 PUBLISHED! AVAILABLE! DONE! AND NANCY ALREADY BOUGHT A COPY! THE BOOK IS OUT! THE STORY IS OUT! THE STORIES OF ALL THOSE GUYS IN THE SHELTER… IT’S OUT! AND ALL I CAN DO IS SOB… JUST PUT MY HEAD DOWN AND SOB… ALONE… VERY MUCH ALONE… BUT THE BOOK IT DONE! THE STORIES ARE OUT! NOT SO MUCH “MINE” BUT THE STORY OF EVERY PERSON IN A HOMELESS SHELTER. OUT THERE! NOT AS SOME KIND OF “STUDY” BUT THE “REAL” SHITTY FUCK-ME STORY! MAINTENANT… JE PEUX PARTIR UQND JE VEUX!!!!! Maintenant je peux partir quand je veux…. QUAND JE veux… JE veux!!!! IT’S DONE!

All I can do now is just sob… I mean, truly SOB! It just doesn’t seem possible. It’s done. The names, the people, the events, they all go rolling through my head, vividly, so vividly… all the days, the nights, the bed, the dark rooms, the trying to log and journal on the MetroPCS phone. The noises in the halls. The stench. The drear. All of it. And then, the laughter, the music, the dancing, the great times. All of it… It hurts. But the story is out there now. It’s out there for everybody to see, to read, to know, to learn. And now I actually CAN just walk out the door and GO AWAY! And leave this ALL … not even “behind”… just leave it. And THAT’S what this is ALL about: beinig able to leave it all, drop it. Now, the only thing left to do is get my few affairs together and then? No more reason to linger… There’s NO going “back” to the Shelter. There will be no more being “Homeless”. There will be no more thinking about having the next moment of my other-wise boring existence ruined any further. No more worrying about anything. Just get “things” together and … YAY! PEACE! – Right now it’s time to wrap this day up. – The month is almost done. At any moment now, Silas will be waltzing in to take his things from this house, leaving me here… alone. In one e-mail he told me that he wants to be able to get his “deposit” back “in August”. In another message he says he’ll be coming to take the computer right away. I cannot and will not continue like this. Nope. No more of this shit. I won’t go to a shelter in Vermont and be tossed every day, out in to the weather and such. Where I’ll go is a bit of a mystery… but the top of the list is HOME. I’m so close right now, I’m not going to let that go. But this time, when I get HOME… I won’t be leaving… ever again. My “work” here is done. I’m relieved.

Wed.28.Feb: 10.31 Well… WELL! THE OFFICIAL NOTICE ARRIVED THIS MORNING! YES INDEED! “PUBLISHED AUTHOR” JOTTING AND JOURNALLING THIS MORNING HERE! It’s still not quite “a part of me” yet. In a way, I know I did it. In a way, I’m really quite thrilled. I guess it’s just because… I saw it through. But on the top of everything, the fact of the matter is: THIS PROJECT, THIS OPPORTUNITY DIDN’T GET FUCKED OVER BY ANYBODY! Ah… yes… Silas DID TRY! Of course SOMEBODY HAD TO TRY! It just wouldn’t be “ME” or “MY SO-CALLED LIFE” if everything just went along smoothly so that I could actually enjoy the labour and the results. SOMEBODY HAD TO DO SOMETHING to at least throw something in my face… and, never to be disappointed, sure enough, it happened JUST as I was down to the very end. BUT… LUBE-UP WORLD! This time I’M the one who gets to “shove the shaft”. THE BOOK IS PUBLISHED AND AVAILABLE ALL AROUND THE WORLD THIS MORNING! – And now? Now, if I so choose, I CAN simply walk out the door and NEVER come back. MAINTENANT JE PEUX PARITIR QUAND JE VEUX!!! The book is done. The stories of the guys in The Shelter are TOLD! The “Thanks” are written and documented. “My work here is done.” and I can head out to… – Didn’t get to the cot until WELL past 2.00 this morning. The room was actually COLD! But I no sooner pulled the covers over and I was O.U.T. and didn’t even have the alarm with me so I slept… until almost 8.30! BRIL! – The “Official” notice of publication came in this morning’s e-mail. – BUT… of course, I also had to relinquish exhibit space in Burlington this morning. The water-colours will not be exhibited. Ah… as the title of the book reads: BITTER-SWEET. The exhibit was supposed to begin at the end of March and run through mid-April or longer. By then? By then I suspect all of everything will simply be “Past History”, just a lot of land-fill. But… but… and but again… the book is done. – Today I really MUST get this house together a bit. Not much. I don’t give a fuck about this house any more. Don’t give a fuck about very much any more. I’m quite disposable and well… so is all of this. But I truly should do something about “me”… Honestly? I do rather offend… even myself! Bathing of me, laundering of the clothes I’ve been wearing ever day for the past… I can’t even recall how long it’s been. Why bother? Oh, I don’t know. May as well. – Meanwhile, the prose has been pulled from the ether this morning. I just might toss IT out there, just to see what it does. Rather a but of Sylvia Plath, I’d suppose. But if nothing else, it’s “occupying” time, and right now, that’s rather important. – 11.01 I just checked the sales report on the book… TWO HAVE BEEN SOLD!!! TWO! It only went “Live” at 1.00 this morning! I know Nancy was THE FIRST! I wonder who the 2nd buyer is. Hmmm…. Well. This is even much better than I anticipated. – 21.34 FEELING SO HORRIBLE! Itchy throat, runny nose, horrible, raspy uncontrollable sneezing. Tired. Run down! My lungs are scratchy. Every breath is an effort and has to be done consciously. “Now I lay me down to sleep and fuck you! Don’t wake me up ever again!” – But, on the brighter side of the street, I actually managed to “do” my nails, at long last. It was getting rather difficult to type or do much of anything. They’d grown terribly long… and actually yellowed from, well, I suppose, poor hygiene these past weeks. But they’re nice again… just like they should be. I even managed to toss in a quick hair-cut as well! Imagine that! Then came the “clean-up” of the house. A bit of dusting and the floors got washed and bleached. MUST make sure the place is “presentable” so that when Silas gets here, there’ll be no cause for any psychotic fits: smelling of smoke, me, anything. The place will be “in order” and presentable. And fuck him, his Don and Connie, the State of Vermont… the whole package deal. I’ve done what needs to be done. That’s that. – “Dinner”… I was actually quite hungry for a change tonight. Hot pot-pies… TWO! Apple pie for desert. Hey! if I’m going, I ain’t going hungry. And when it was done?… HOT HOT SHOWER! A WONDERFUL SHOWER! A DELIGHTUFL SHOWER! IT FELT SOO GOOD TO GET SO CLEAN AGAIN! It’s been a long, long time. When the shower was done, I tossed clothes into the washer and now? ME CLEAN! CLOTHES CLEAN! HOUSE CLEAN! What a day! (And I wish I could just crawl under something, close my eyes now.) – Funny: I had to run to Mayhew’s for a pack of smokes. Brenda was there and all sorts of talkative this evening. It’s a shame, in a way: I’m part of this town now… I can talk with folks, be a part of their lives, they’re a part of mine. It’s about to be ripped away… again… as usual. She was just making potato salad for the store and just as I was heading for the door to come back to the house, she called to me “Do you like potato salad? I just finished making this and I’m putting it into the cooler. It’s still warm. You need to eat something. Here. It’s on me.” Can you imagine? See? I’ve actually become part of Richford… and now, Richford and all is about to be ripped right away from me. Nobody wants to listen… nobody wants to hear… But I don’t “complain” about that any more. I’m so used to this that, well, if it went any different, I wouldn’t know what to do. – 21.36 waiting for wash to dry… too tired! When it’s done, I’ll be finished for this day. I just can’t stay awake any longer. – OH! Schmilik bought the 2nd book! Says he’s going to read it and put a “review” on the Amazon site! (Gee… I hope he doesn’t get insulted by anything in there. But if he does? Hey! What’s in the book is what happened when it happened. If he takes the time to read the whole thing and understands any of it… Besides. I don’t care any more. It happened, I journaled it. Done. Truth is a miserable thing. Over-all? Nobody cared about me being in that Shelter. Nobody ever did anything to change anything. It’s MY story… MY book. Oh well…) – Sadly, the response from Twitter is shit. No surprise there. All the hype about “We’ll be looking for it!” and all. I should know better… I can’t get over how shallow these people are. But I shouldn’t even give it a thought. In all brutal honesty: the ONLY one who has actually been WONDERFUL over all the time is Nancy. Amazing, her! No matter how I try, I just can’t figure it all. But there she was, and there she is. Nancy. AMAZING! Zue and Clepsydre give wonderful moral support though. I don’t know anything about either of them,but they’ve been very supportive over the years. Maybe they can and maybe they can’t afford to get the book. I don’t know. Zue said she’d buy a copy when she can afford it. That’s very sweet. I appreciate even that much. – But for now, I MUST get the wash folded and close this day. I can’t… just can’t manage any longer tonight. What-ever it is that’s hit me is hitting hard… I must admit… DEFEAT!