October 2008

WED. 1st OCT 48 HOMELESS/17 SHELTER 9h21 Bryant Park. I just finished last night’s notes. Been here since about 8h40. Took a chair and a table off 40th. – Slept past the 6h alarm this morn. Didn’t wake Angel for “bread fox”. Got me together instead. But he managed to wake in time to get breakfast for himself. (Come to find out: sausage on some bread! I missed the pork!) So, I got a shower and a load this morning. (4 guys looking rather ragged. One came up to me to bum a smoke! I guess I don’t’ look so “homeless”… yet.) – (Note: I’m still not comfortable, smoking rolled cigarettes. I’m still waiting for them to be mistaken for a joint.) – Angel and I strolled over to Broadway and 34th. He’s got a “meeting” at 10. I’m pondering registration with VNS Home Care today. Truth is, I need to find another kind of employment! This is just not getting me anywhere! I need my CAN and a couple of days to apply at all the “homes” in Rockaway. I’m determined to go back to The Rock but I need a constant income! This style of existence is breaking me down. And I’m hating this residence in The City more and more. But, it’s been a lovely morning here, in Bryant Park and now? I need to pee. Off to the library. A re-work of my CV? – 3 young girls are at the upper level, sketching. Artists all around. Why can’t I make a living doing my art? – 9h42. Time to move. – 12h30 at Partners In Care. – Did my 45 minutes on-line at the library. 2 windows, steady research. New HHA CV and printed 10. The printer cage me 10 blank sheets too! Drawing! Then came directly to PIC. Application and a general 20 question, multiple choice. Waiting for interview. BAD NEWS: THEY WANT WHITES! HERE WE GO! SCREWED! I DON’T UNDERSTAND WHY I GET SO SCREWED! AT LEAST 50 DOLLARS FOR WHITES! WHERE THE HELL WILL I GET THAT? 13 CAR-FARES? WTF? Well, I’ve nothing else pressing today. Let’s see how far I can get with this. More to note in this journal, if nothing else. Next entertainment? Suing Edlyne and Premier. – 12h45 Just getting closer to A108 time. I’m hungry. Where to take lunch is next. – 15h38 the river-side park as yet another day comes crashing to a close and my bowels want to explode all over NYC! Yes, I’ve eaten. 3 sandwiches and some cookies. One sheet of paper and several smokes of tobacco left. I went through the interview at Partners In Care AND ANOTHER PHYSICAL! This time, only urine and the stethoscope. No blood! Thankfully. Nd, at 15h I was just crossing 2nds Ave. I hope Angel didn’t come looking for me at the library. What I thought was to be a passing of a few hours turned into the entire day! SO now I know how to occupy a whole day: interview at Home Care agencies. – Ending the day here, at the water, is a nice way to close chas. What a shame it’s so loud, with the helicopters coming and going. Right now, 2 of them. – Homeless men here too. I’m developing a silent camaraderie with the homeless. Walking up 7th for my physical, 2 tables, manned, for contributions to the homeless. I almost whipped out my meal ticket. Hey! I need contributions too! About 75-100 dollars for new whites. Will anybody help me there? Nope. I suppose I’m hardening. (Right now, I’m hoping to control my bowels until I get to the toilet.) – 16h11 Time to head back and try for car-fare for tomorrow. Chabad? Money for whites? I can certainly try. – 19h26 A108 Got car-fare voucher for tomorrow. – It’s been raining. No sign of Angel. Washed a pair of socks. I’m tired. Very thirsty this evening. The floor is quiet. If it could always be this way. I got 3 cigarettes out of the papers. One left I believe. Went down to smoke one. Now to wait to sign in. Hopefully a good night’s sleep. Please!

THU.2 49/18 7h29 A108. 21 degrees Clear morning. The construction crew are wearing hoodies this morning. Cold weather is coming. I have no heavy clothing. – Showered. Dumped. (X2) Carfare 8h30. My stomach/bowels not quite “right”. Angel was sick last night. Nausea. – Something in this room smells like urine. I wonder what and how (but certainly not “why”!) – A few minutes to relax and head to 7 for the miserable 4 dollars. I’ve 3 dollars in my pocket and no more Bugler. – Chabad today? I wonder: will they fail me, yet again? For a group so set on helping, they’ve yet to give ME any comfort OR SOLACE. Maybe today they’ll prove me wrong. – 9h11 Bryant Park. With carfare and a new pouch of Bugler (2,50 dollars). The old one gave me exactly 40, the number of papers included in the package. – The library doesn’t open until 10h. Something I learned when I got to the door. So I’m here, on a chilly morning, with my (relatively) clean sweat-shirt, in the shade, having a smoke and appearing as if my life has purpose. I’ll go tto the library to look-up Chabad. As it stands at this moment, I’ll go, be honest, get nothing, waste the cash in my pocket. Meanwhile, my bowels are still quite un-settled and I’ve got no-where to “go”. The world is a place of un-ending torment. – I find I’m becoming less tolerant of the noise, congestion, and general “being” of Manhattan. It’s hitting every part of my person and weighing heavily. I’m fed-up with hearing Spanish spoken. I’m fed-up with “conversating”, anti-Jewish comments, pushing, shoving and needing to be on my guard at every moment. I’m moving from generally annoyed to completely fatigued from it all. But it seems there’s no way out at this juncture. Premier. ExtraCare. Rockaway and now, Partners In Care. FOUR agencies and no work! Something is terribly wrong! And my stomach churns with the threat of losing control of my bowels. Even my own body is growing hateful of me. If I were a junkie, had AIDS, mental illness, I could be better off. A convict. Better. But this is the “reward” for being a kind, considerate, helpful human-being. None of it makes sense. None if it. – 9h27 When there’s a need for something, time passes slowly. The world is spiteful. – 10h30 4th floor library. I’ve pee’d and feel better. Computer at 11h. As I came to a table to sit, some Asian bitch walked right up to the place I was headed for, grabbed the chair and sat down! Not a good start. AND, I JUST NOTICED THAT I’M NOT WEARING MY KEYS! THEY’RE UNDER MY PILLOW, BACK AT THE SHELTER! NO KEYS! I’LL BE WORRIED ABOUT THEM NOW! – 16 lap-tops along the wall. Internet, e-mail, word, I had a lap-top. I created web-sites. I did graphics. I journalled. I collected music. All worthless not. All gone. – 18h A108 Did my 45 minutes on-line, mostly looking for Chabad. The 770 address is on Eastern Parkway at Kingston Avenue. The Kingston Avenue stop on the Nr.3 train. Crown Heights. So, off I went. A quick stop at Bryant Park for a smoke, walk to Times Square. How that’s changed. All new signs that project and move and just add to the mess that is this city. I was tired and hungry and in no mood for any of this. But, I went. A few moments later and 4 stops past Grand Army Plaza… Crown Heights. Just in time for Mincha services and the school to let out. Black Fedoras EVERYWHERE! I went round a block to get a feel and my bearings. Found 770. Not what one might expect of a “World Headquarters”. I think it was Schneerson’s house. When I walked in, men davening, even in the foyer and narrow halls. Movement. Constant movement. Confined. Nobody noticed me in my jeans, work-boots, with back-pack. Or, they chose not to notice me. There was no one to speak with, no one to ask questions of. I left, forlorn, walked down Eastern Pkwy a bit, sat on a bench, had a cigarette and pondered, alone, in silence. The sun shone but the breezes were quite chilly. I wondered what Mom would do in such a situation. Barge right in, no doubt. I thought: I can’t say they didn’t help if I don’t at least ask. I began to feel so isolated, righ tin the midst of what I can only describe as a “hive of Jews”. I got up and started to walk. As I approached an “approachable-looking” elder, not wearing basic black or Fedora, I asked “Where might a person begin to inquire into information, direction, help about social services?” “The office of the Coalition.” “And where might that be?” “Kingston and Carroll. Go to the corner, turn right.” OK. I asked, he told, I walked. On Kingston and Carroll I asked a shop-keeper “Where might I find the Coalition office?” “You see the butcher at the corner? The next door.” “Thank you.” A quick stroll. The office is in a non-descript front but clearly indicated “Crown Height Jewish Coalition” (if one is standing directly in front of it.) (18h55 It’s COLD in here! Thankfully, I have an extra blanket to put over me. I’ve managed to grab a nap.) Inside, 3 young men in “BlackHats” are speaking with an Orthodox woman about Social Security and the likes. THEY’RE SPEAKING HEBREW! Charming. When it comes my turn, I’m flustered, but I tell the woman that I’ve been living in the shelter, have just found work but need white scrubs and shoes. I’ve no money and no income. She’s attentive and kind. She suggested I go across the street to a clinic to see if maybe they can help me. So, I go. At the clinic, the nice lady doctor, in American English tells me that they don’t wear scrubs there and recommends that I look on-line. Well she didn’t quite get the “I’m broke” part but rather than make an issue, I thanked her and departed. (There was a woman patient there, with 2 small children. They spoke French, Hebrew and English!) back to the Coalition office to tell that I got no help. The kind woman softened and began looking-up places on-line where I could buy scrubs until she finally understood: I’m homeless and penniless. (By the way: as I was walking into 770, an old man, holding some paper cash in on clenched fist, held out his hand to beg money… FROM ME! I shrugged,told him I have nothing to give him and am in shearch of help myself. I doubt it registered with him at all.) Meanwhile, at the Coalition, g’veret starts to look for telephone numbers (they assume I have no home but I have phone?). First number: MET COUNCIL! WHY DIDN’T I THINK OF THEM? Two more numbers: one for “east side” the other for “west side”. I told her the shelter is on 30th and 1st Avenue. She covered Manhattan. No addresses though. When I mentioned Met Council she said I should try the other numbers. Maybe they could intervene for me. At least maybe one of them could provide the money to buy the scrubs. So! I thanked her with all my heart and set out to find a BROOKLYN library (thankfully, I have a card!) to look-up addresses for Met Council and the 2 telephones. – On the parkway, I asked a cop for the nearest library. “Just down that way.” but he didn’t say how far. In the direction of Grand Army Plaza, 4 subway stations away. OK. I began walking. About 5 blocks later and no library, I ask 2 Black men, standing in front of a house. “How far am I from the library?” “About 6 blocks.” OK. I’ll go it. It’s chilly. The walk will warm me. So where the hell do I end up? Brooklyn Central Library at GRAND ARMY PLAZA! In I go, swipe my card… IMMEDIATE appointment! Reverse look-up on the phone numbers: “East Side” , United Jewish Council, 235 E. Broadway. Chinatown! “East Side”? OK. Next number, “West Side”. West Side COJO. One’s by City Hall, the address for them is 450 West End Ave. (81/82). OK. What’s a “COJO”? of course! It’s “Council of Orthodox Jewish Organisations”! Silly me. It looks like God is tryin’ t’tell me something. Orthodoxy, here we come. Ready or not. Next? Met Council. Been there. They screwed me on my rent at 3150… no, wait, Jane Street! Waited so long to get my rent cheque to me that I was out! Anyway, 80 Maiden Lane. 21st floor. No hours on their web-site. Idiots! I’ll have to wing it and hope like hell. But, I did get the info I need. Tomorrow, I’m armed and ready. But I’ll have to post-pone the PIC bit for a week. I KNOW I can’t depend on ANY of these groups for anything expeditious. Out the door of the library, into a clear, sunny, chilly afternoon of 16h (or so). The number 2 to Nevins to the number 5 to Union Square to the number 6 to 28th to the “Chateau Bellevue”. I think I got in at about 17h or so and I was weak from hunger! 2 peanut butter rolls (Martins) and an entire small cup of peanut butter direct. A bit of coffee and a wash: corduroy shirt and socks. My shirt is REALLY BEGINNING TO SHOW WEAR! E COLLAR IS WORN AND THE BACK IS GETTING THIN. To think I have (had?) another that’s been worn only 4 or 5 times. When I think of what might be gone (lap-top, leather, suit, CD’s, etc.) I get sick with anger. I’m not hateful. I’m so bitter that each heart-beat is a prayer for retribution! But, no sense in going into all of it here. Save the space. Move along. A nap. 30 minutes. Down for yet another smoke and here comes more incredible stuff! Round about 19h30 I went up to Peace for a car-fare slip (and to stroke her ego as I do, always). As we spoke of the “good news” of today, she wrote the voucher. I was out of there in moments and queued for sign-in already at 20h03. Mike, a construction guy who calls me ksslr (Addendum: Sonny) and I talked about job-hunting. He thought I was in construction! Hey! To me, that’s a compliment. As we’re talking, Mr. Brown makes his night announcement about having meal tickets “in your hand! Not in your pocket. Not in your arse. In your hand!” “I’ll have car-fare at 9:30(pm).” He asked how many wanted car-fare and when it turned out to be only 2 of us, we got to go ahead of the queue, GET CAR-FARE AND SIGN IN! By 20h40 I am back in my room, journaling all of this. It’s 21h10 right now! And although I’d like to have something to eat (the locker is void of food) I just don’t know what I’d get at Gristede’s to bring back so, I’ll be a bit hungry tonight. – I’m not too certain if it’s under-nourishment for the day, fatigue or what but my throat is a bit scratchy, as are my eyes. Or is it the flu shot? Or is it the fact that it’s 16,5 degrees in here?!? And it’s quite a chilly 16,5 degrees! None-the-less, there’s also one less mosquito too! And I don’t see any on the ceiling tonight! Hopefully I’ll get good sleep, be ready to hit the streets in the morning, flowed by Rockaway! I need to get to the post office and try for RAA and PHC to see Brian. It’s going to be on HELL of a day! Let’s hope for perfect weather. For now? 21h19. A smoke and bed I hope. No sign of Angel. I hope he’s up-stairs signing in and I hope he doesn’t expect to be entertained until midnight. – Almost 22h. As I went down at 21h33 for a smoke, Angel was coming in. The queue down-stairs was a mess! Long! I smoked, but never again so late! A Moroccan asked me “Manish’ma?” Speaks Hebrew, French and German. The “bludel” in front of me spoke German. Imagine? Languages other than Spanish! Coming back in ws relatively quick but you could tell the guards are under pressure. – I’m waiting to see Angel and then, to sleep.

FRI.3 50/19 6h51 18,5 degrees! NO WATER! Got to sleep by 23h last night. Woke at 6h15 to 16 degrees! If I hadn’t managed to acquire the extra blanket along the way it would have been a sleepless night. Still, to wake this morning to NO WATER? Luckily, my clothes are clean. But my body isn’t. I need to take a dump, brush my teeth, take a shower! I’ve got some travelling to do. Today is supposed to be Rockaway and I’d like to go clean. – I’m also thinking about weather and clothes. It’s cold and I’ve got no jacket or coat and very limited layers. The “hole” returns and with it, the darkness. Cold. What to do about the cold? – Well. I snuck a bit of a smoke in the room, waiting for word on the water. It’s almost unbelievable. NO WATER in a city shelter. But then, why should anybody care about 850 homeless people? I’ve learnt from the likes of those who called themselves my “friends” and “family”… when you get right down to the bottom line, NOBODY calls, as long as THEY’RE comfortable. (8h09 Sat.4) WATER@ Just as I finished writing, we got water so I bathed in the shower, in, out, done, dressed, out. Walked to Herald Square with Angel. The library didn’t open until 10h and that was too late for my plans for the day. I walked across 34th to 8th and, after what felt like an eternity waiting, caught the A to Home! This morning, I didn’t even mind the change at Broad Channel! And, it was warmer in BC than Manhattan. What a pleasure to hear the announcement :Shelter to Rock Park”. I felt like the soldier coming home from years at war. – Tide was in and the sky was over-cast. The cloud -line followed the beach. Ah, Rockaway. The end of the continent, end of the country, end of the State, end of The City, end of the weather system. – B116th. Out of the station and to the post office where there was mail for me and the previous box-holder. Mine consisted of an invitation to “Taschlich” (passed) and a card notifying the congregation of Walter B’s death, and a statement from my ADP Paycard. I was pissed: no direct deposit info from ADP! Well, off to Waldbaum’s for food. – Another happy return to a most familiar place. Up and down the aisles; bread, cold cuts, snacks and through the self-check, out the door. I knew where I was and how to navigate and I was there and gone and on my way! Home! A stop at B116 and Newport for the paper, on the 35 and out to the wilderness of Funston! The clouds were to my right. The beach and sun were to my left. – As I got off the bus at the gates of Ft. Funston, the sun was shining, the usual wind was blowing and it was truly warmer. A pit stop at the public loo and to T6 where Madame P. was busy polishing her stone already.
DREAM
Penelope was exhibiting her works at the Newburgh library. Her recent “Deco” piece was the centre of attention. She stood, smiling, beside it, not speaking but posing as if for some photo-op.
As harsh as it might appear, I wasn’t particularly thrilled to see her. Yes, I miss Tilden. No, I do NOT miss the RAA or its ilk. But, being the trooper, I feigned the missing, did the kissing and admired the sculpture (which I think is a waste of an other-wise beautiful piece of stone). We schmoozed about life in the shelter, life in general. Nothing deep or personal. Geoff came in to work on priming some stretched fabric he’d found and will use for a portrait, commissioned. He’s trying to use a stretch fabric of some kind instead of canvass! It’s not working as he’d like. Duh. It’s not canvass. Oh well. Ripping off the client. Bastard! Typical bastard. Anyway, I made my little lunch at noon and read the latest horrors of home in the Wave. – Finally! Left alone to grab my hidden toiletries and the little scissor I used for hair-cut! Part one of my purpose accomplished! – About an hour later “Billy” came by to leave some kind of machinery for Geoff. He and P. were in the lot out front. I borrowed her charger – it will be returned to her, of course – and took my leave to head to Peninsular Hospital. – A NOTE: Life, existence, the world, current situation has made it that I need to acquire necessities in any way [possible. At this juncture, if I’m to get the fuck out of this hole I’m in, I need work. Work will have to phone me. I need to keep the phone fully charged. If I asked with all due politeness and humility, I’d get a “No” on the matter of the phone charger from the woman who would never put herself out to drive a few blocks into Rockaway or even into Brooklyn on her way, to give me a lift. Same woman who saw no harm in letting me live out in the Fort. So, I do what I must these days to get out of where I am. Let God and all Creation judge me. I just don’t care any more. I’m doing what I must to make the best of this shit I’m dying in. Don’t like it world? SHOVE IT! – As I was headed for the gate, a KINDNESS! Billy pulls up and offers a lift to 116th! He’s a welder. Rockaway. We talked about the “small town” of Rockaway and how “a stranger will come by and offer a ride.” (Truth? I’d like to offer him “a ride””. But, well, I don’t’ know why I didn’t. Still. I didn’t. Maybe one of these days. Maybe in the Bakfort.) And so we parted at 116th and I went to 112th and up to the boards and down to 54th. – The sun was wonderfully warm. The breeze was strong. The ocean was a whisper and I was on my way. Stopped for a cookie break and smoke at 74th. My feet were beginning to hurt. I noticed it’s easier to walk the boards that concrete sidewalks. I missed flip-flops. I thought, I spoke; “I WILL return to Rockaway and I WILL live here comfortably and I WILL do it for my happiness and to spite Life.: I continued my walk, noticing how the boards deteriorate down in the 60′s and 50′s. At last, 54th. I had to leave the sea. – As I got to BCD I had the feeling that Brian wasn’t at PHC. As I entered the grounds and looked at his window, I had a strong feeling that he wasn’t’ there. As I left the lift on the 2nd floor, a dialysis Nurse looked at me and said “He’s not here.” There. Confirmed. So I went to the unit to find Jocelyn and there. at the very end of the hall, she was! I stopped at the desk to learn about Brian’s discharge. The Nurses were the expected patronising, assuring me that he was ready to go. but the look on an NA’s face told me better. Kleymenova sat in her corner and didn’t speak. I was quite fine with that.. I have nothing pleasant to say to her anyway. So, I moved on to see Joycelyn who, when she saw me, gave a wonderful greeting and hug! Asked me how I’m doing, how did they discharge me, where I am living. When I told her how they lied, she said I should have re-admitted and I should sue. Gave me the name of an attorney who’ll take my case AND the one against Premier! (Now I have to go back to Far Rock for that. And I will!) We went in to sit in an empty room and talked. I told her of my dilemma with the scrubs. She said she’ll see what she can do. She asked me if I have a warm jacket. I said all I have is all that here. “We’ll take care of that.” THEN SHE HANDED ME A 20 SAYING “HOLD ON TO THAT.”!!! YOU’LL NEED TO GET TO WORK AND THINGS SO YOU HOLD ON TO THAT.” A 20 FROM SOMEONE WHO CAN AFFORD IT LESS THAN SO MANY OTHERS! HOW TYPICAL! It makes me all the more bitter toward the liars and miserable fucks who hold tightly and bullshit a person! Yes, this 20 is a pair of white sneakers OR a set of white scrubs OR a telephone charger OR more phone time. AND it’s something that could have come from an RAA donation jar OR somebody’s loan OR a simple gift of compassions and understanding. Well, I learn to hold back until I am taken care of. – Time went by, Joycelyn took my PO address and phone number. It hurt to leave but she made me feel confident that things are only improving. – I walked down to the Frank (44th) station for the train back. I stood on that platform, looking across the trees and the brush and over to the ocean. How magnificent! How much my “Home”. On the way to PHC I got to 67th and was embraced by Gaston. There’s still time and the opportunity to come home to Gaston. I’ll remember that. I remembered that at Frank too. The train came. It carried me up the shore, across the bay and… away. It was about 17h or so. – At 1st Av. I took the bus because my feet were so sore that I couldn’t walk. In 2E22 a turkey sandwich, a beef sandwich, a nap, a cig, sign-in. At 20h45, I went down for another smoke. Sonny and Angel queued. We talked? When I came up to the room, Angel was just getting down from sign-in. The census seems low. I told him I was tired, sore, needed sleep. We cut the day and the night. – A note: At PHC, Lillian said “You want a bed? We have plenty to chose from.” Funny

Sat.4; (51/20) 10h30 2E22 Just finished yesterday’s entry. I woke at 7h35, started this with coffee. I’ve showered and dressed. It’s overcast, chilly,. It’s quiet in the halls and miserably noisy out-side. Angel said he wanted to go to lunch here and then to the library for his card and computer time. I really don’t’ want to wait around that long in the shelter, Honestly, I don’t know how these people can just piss away a day. Even a cloudy, chilly one. Oh well. I’ll have a bite to eat and get to the library. Kippa or not. I take my traditions on MY terms from now on. – 11h53 18,5 degrees. It’s cold. I’m cold. It’s drizzling! In the Wave: Shirl is going to have a reading tomorrow! I’ll have to miss it! Fucked again! And I shouldn’t be angry or bitter? FUCK! – 13h29: ANGEL HAS BEEN TRANSFERRED OUT! TO “PROJEN”. HE’S GONE TO THE 7TH FLOOR SCIMS OFFICE. THE TRANSFER IS TODAY! FROM HERE ON, I SPEAK WITH AND TO NO ONE! IT’S THE BEGINNING OF SOLITARY. I WANT TO PUKE! – 15h29 River Park: Everything in our lives gets ripped from us so easily. Especially those that provide us with any semblance of happiness, joy, comfort. I saw Angel to the bus just now, as I’d seen Dennis to the train. East 3rd St. Project Renew. A guy in the yard at E30th said it’s a much better place. E.30th is only a “clearing house””. Angel’s 21 days were up today. Tomorrow is mine. The rumour is that I’ll be out to who-knows-where by Tuesday. Another shuffle in my life. Well, I found this place by the water. It gives me a little happiness. Yes. This too, must go. I’m alone again. I know some people at E30 but none to sit and talk with. Lonely nights are coming… empty nights. A “why” question: WHY HAVE I NOT BEEN CALLED TO WORK? – The sky has cleared. Sunshine. Cold breeze. – Angel gave me a heavy jacket! It fits me very well. Odd olive-sort-of colour. Black lining. But it will keep me warm. I suppose I must be thankful for that much. An exchange: camaraderie for warmth. Warmth against the coming cold, provided by a homeless man. “Homeless”. His mother has a place, with basement. He sees her daily. Stored thing in her basement. (Maybe she lives in a project and can’t offer his space?) “Homeless”. I have no one and no where and nothing. But I have a warm jacket. My mind is like a pile of wind-blown cinders. Like melted plastic. Like vomit. Yes. Like vomit. Nothing is making an sense. This morning I stared out my window and wondered about Anita. This family abandoned her too! How cruel! Relatives of immigrants. She was the daughter of immigrants. How cruel. Just dumping humanity on a whim. How miserably cruel! But the sun is shining warmly on my neck, the river rushes by. The traffic behind me is almost maddening. Will I be transferred in the night? Tonight? No. Not until there’s a cold, rainy night. That’s how it will be. The only “appropriate” way to handle me. And all the while, I wonder why I’m still here – still alive – still going. Curiosity? Morbidly morose curiosity? To see just how much of a further beating I can take? It’s SO VERY past the time when I should be GONE> – 16h It’s cold and the beginning of an empty night. – 16h44 Angel rang. HE HAS TO WAIT UNTIL 23h FOR HIS ALREADY-ASSIGNED BED! There’s TV to watch. Dinner is spaghetti and meat sauce. He says it’s cleaner than here. He sounds lost. Hey! I had a massive anxiety attack when I got back to the room! Ate 2 cereals, 2 turkey sandwiches, the 3 graham crackers he gave me. I’m a mess alright. Security came by about 16h55. “Hello. Are you alright?” No! I’m not “alright”. But there’s nothing you can (or would) do to make it any better. – A Note: The jacket co-ordinates with my back-pack. “Olive” must be my new, up-and-coming colour. – Angel works tomorrow. Library Mid-town 13-17h. Shirl’s reading is 13-13-17h. All I know is, I’ll need diversion. Peace is off Sunday and Monday. Yom Kippur is Wed. night. Synagogue around here? – 18h19 Just came up from a smoke. Conversation over-heard as I waited to go through security (in Spanish): “You have to go to Newburgh. Broadway and Liberty. You take the train, Metro-North, to Beacon, and bus for one dollar. You tell them you’re homeless and you don’t want to go to a shelter. They’ll put you in a hotel or motel.” NEWBURGH! It’s still the welfare capitol and easy-street for the dregs. If only I could put this on the “voy” board somehow! But as I came back to the 2nds floor, anxiety attack in full charge, I thought “How different am I from that shit? Just because I’m HERE in the shelter system?” – What a day! What an evening! Nothing more or less than anxiety. And I believe I have to see Peace this evening about my meal ticket. I don’t’ want to. I don’t’ want a new one. I don’t want to see her. So it means “shut down” and go simply to pass some time. I’ll go at 19h. If it takes an hour, I’ll queue for sign-in. Then, I can sign in, come here, try for sleep. I’ll have to face tomorrow alone. – All told, what I truly TRULY NEED IS TO FOCUS SOLELY ON GETTING OUT OF THIS SHELTER, OUT OF THIS SYSTEM, OUT OF ALL OF THIS AND NOW. NOT LATER. NOW!!!!! – As I write, the sun is setting and the sky is dark, dark grey with ominous clouds. My chest is closing in on me. The room is closing in on me. ANXIETY ATTACK! in dead silence. – (Note: WHAT HAVE I DONE TO DESERVE THIS?) – 18h48 It’s ever so dark out there. Thick with clouds. Angel’s bed is being moved about. A new guy already? I want to cry. I want to punch something. I’m sick to death of being bloody-fucking stoic! Sick to bloody-fucking death! – 21h17 Peace extended my meal ticket to the 8th by making an 8 out of the 6 and initialing it. I can’t wait to see what this will cause and if it will be reflected on the sign-in sheet. We had a really grat chat about language. She’s Nigerian. I told her how I live African English. She told me how she hates Black-American English. That done, I queued for sign-in. She was running it tonight. Then, after sign-in, a diversion from anxieties by having a talk with Mike, (from A127, now on the 4th floor). He grew up in Riverdale! We even talked about living in Riverdale Park! Seems people have done it for years already. Little communities are there! He also told me of a synagogue where they let you sleep on the benches over-night and give you food. It’s in Chelsea. Since I don’t have “proper” clothes for Yom Kippur, I’ll look into it for services on Thursday. I won’t be able to go Wednesday night because of sign-in. But maybe I can catch week-day services anyway. Why? I don’t. know, exactly, Seems “God” is in Hate mode with me of late. But maybe the routine will help. Rabbi Lewis said it does. I’ll try anything now.. From the looks of this floor and the sign-in, now people are coming in and none look “civil”. I want out of here. Soon! Then, think of Mike: 3 compressed vertebrae, bowel problems so bad he can’t stray too far from a loo, ETOH. My problem? I just hate existing. Tired of life itself. Well, I snuck my half cigarette. Library at 13h tomorrow. If my feet will manage, a look-up on that synagogue. Food shopping. (No more food stamps on the account until Friday and about 40$ left now.) It’s 22h03 and the hall-rats are congregating. Me? Time to try for some sleep. – Thank you for the jacket, Angel

Sun. 5. 12h05 2E22 (52/21): My stomach is churning. An emergency trot before shower (and dump.dump… daily? Why not?) Woke first time about 7h. Finally up at 8h30. Kept very busy this morning cleaning the locker, organising, trying to make packing and schlepping easy. I do think I can manage with only minor difficulties at this point. – Angel phoned at 10h30. “Call me back.” – It rained over-night into this morning so I didn’t rush to wake up. – Cleaning crew mopped hall and loo. I heard a woman “Hello? No smoking.” Me? I’ve had 5 cigs. this morning in ,5 cig intervals. – Library open at 13h. I’ll go. Shirl is having a reading today at 13h. I’d like to o but not for the 20 that Joycelyn gave me. I need that for whites. Besides which, although I’ve nothing against Shirl, I’ve no real desire to participate in RAA an more.YES! I want and NEED to get back to Rockaway but NO! Not to the RAA. – So, 12h30. A bit of sun. I’m off to the library. – 14h50 Library. My eyes don’t’ want to focus! Fatigue? Or a bit of depression? Don’t know. Don’t care. As I waited (from 13h25 to…) for my 14h appointment, I doodled and a woman wanted to know where I got this book. Then she saw my “doodles” and remarked “They’re really exquisite!” Says I should make good money at it. OK. Another “should” with nothing more. The person is OK but you know? FUCK the “should”! – Got on-line. ADP disputes (O.D. fee AND a 5$ cash back? WTF?). Forbell and E.3rd found. Atty. in Far Rock found. Angel added to Grand Central. Posted to voy Nbg. Re: over-heard yesterday. Even checked some e-mails! Busy! A second call from Angle. Now I’m checking. Nothing. Blanks. OK. – Looks like good weather out there. I’m quite hungry. It’s 15h. This was the only thing on my agenda. Perhaps I’ll go for a smoke and check the 3rd floor. Sign-in is at 20h. Can go back to “cell” at any time. – 12,65 on the phone. I need money for minutes! The “NEEDING” never ends. – 18h46 2E22: Left and went to D’Ag at 38th on 3rd for cream cheese, peanut butter, yoghurt, PopTarts, rolls. The peanut butter should have had 6 containers. IT ONLY HAD FOUR! Fucking fucked! But I didn’t go back. Why bother listening to them accuse me of trying to get away with something? I ate. That’s what’s important. – Spoke with a man who was walking a dachshund. Good moments spent. It got chilly. I came here at about 16h45 or so and passed the time sorting through my little notes and tearing them into little pieces. Had a cigarette by halves. – The sun is setting. Another day gone. – Tries to phone Angel twice. No answer. Well, I tried. – My locker is looking quite neat and tidy. Ready to pack and go. Some guys have been here 2 months. I don’t want to be here that long. I’m quite anxious to go now. Too bad it gets too cold at night. – I need clean linens. Maybe this Wednesday. I don’t know and don’t much care. – Looking forward to sign-in and sleep. LONG walk tomorrow to Met Council and LONG walk back! – 20h58 Signed in and the fucking lunatics have taken over the asylum tonight: One fuck tried coyly, to take a place in the queue in front of me. I disappointed him when I said “I don’t fucking care”. DHS little security manned the sign-in table. There’s no “control” over anything at all on 7. – I noticed Angel’s bed (A107) isn’t assigned. They just couldn’t wait to move him but there’s nobody to take the empty bed. – Down-stairs for a smoke and some trash on the 2nd floor has a boom-box in the window blasting what I can only call “niggershit”. LOUD! Even DHS security isn’t stopping it. – The hall over here in the East Wing is full of cigarette smoke. 3 security guards at the desk in the Centre Wing. All goes un-noticed.
NOTE: Synagogue 23 b 7/8
On the sign-in queue, the ass behind me was blasting some shit ring-tine tune as “security” walked by playing with a text phone. Behind Mr. Ring-tone, some moron kept shouting vulgarities at what-ever. Right now there are some idiots slamming doors and toilet seats. Everything is falling apart. I truly NEED to get out of here! But I keep my own person and emotions and thoughts pulled deeper and deeper inside. I think of my nights in the Bakfort. There’s no sense reacting to any of it. This place is the actually proof that there are “human” brains tat are biologically and organically pitifully inferior. It is a grand promotional support for a “Brave New World”. There truly ARE those whose destruction could make the world a better place. – And the doors in the hall slam on and on at 21h 13. – I’ll be out of here early tomorrow. Let the weather be good! – PopTarts for snacks. A sketch or 2. Bed. Lights out.
DREAM
I’m in a small, crowded, small-town candy store to get 4 or 5 pcs. of candy. Fat man a counter. Busy with slow customer in front of me. As a favour to him, I count for exact change. He sees my small purchase and points it out to fat woman owner who says “Since he wants to be like that here…” and she calcs. one pc. at a tim. I’m furious and yell at her, punching her, telling here I was trying to make it easier by counting exact change! She apologises but I’m in a rage, punching her, poking at her breasts, telling her she’s fact, disgusting, foul-odoured! She keeps apologizing. I keep yelling, punching, poking. She follows me out of the store and down the stairs. I’m still yelling and poking. She’s sweaty. Fat and sweaty. I wake up.

Mon. 6. (53/22) 12h52 Met Council 10th floor. SO TIRED! I slept last night but sleep is no longer restful. Woke at approximately 5h40, had coffee, jumped into shower and dressed and bolted for the door. I may have left just past 7h because I walked down 2nd to 3rd Street. Found “Projen” at 8 E.3rd. Nice building on the outside. Typical E. Village neighbourhood and “common” homeless trash on the streets. It started to drizzle. Said I, to God “You wouldn’t dare!” God heard. He didn’t. I walked to Broadway and down to J&R, off to – no, wait – OK. Yes, Fulton St. where I stopped for a smoke, and a phony phone talk as I smoked. Onward to Maiden Lane. Arrived SO early that by 8h11 I had already been sitting, established, at Pier 17. I noted: 12degrees. It was 49degrees F. at Houston (at 7h50). Cloudy. Feet hurt, back wet from sweat. Could use a BM. Left approx. 7h. Angry this morning. Rang Partners In Care at 8h50, told to call back at 9hSick of people, congestion, noise. Sick of passing so many places with so many memories. Kips Bay. Barbara and Eileen and Zur, 22nd, lived there, Lower Bwy, futon for Jane St., John St.,-reinsurance co. and Sinclair, 40th and Madison, Nancy, Liz, Lord & Taylor, Mama, Takashimaya, 36th & 3rd-Dakota, Judy, Joyce, Alex… Too much. Too much. 8h40 heading for Met Council. – And so I did. Met Council, 80 Maiden Land, 21st floor. William at the reception. He asked if he could help me. I told him I doubt it but I’ll try. I told him, bluntly, of my walking from the Shelter, my homlessness, my need of uniform. He invited me to have a seat. A welcome invitation! I read the Jewish Sentinel as I waited. An Iranian man of quite a certain age, dressed very well, claiming “Refugee” status, looking for an apartment immediately! I over-heard a young woman tell him that it doesn’t work that way. There are waiting lists and such. William kept me abreast by telling me that someone from Crisis Intervention would see me at about 10h. His English, spoken, grammar are a delight to the ear and I told him so. As I’m sitting and reading, a tall Black woman comes in, stands in front of me, introduces herself as “Jackie” and asks how she can help me “this time after so many years”. I’m still on file! (I’m nodding off as I jot this too!) I took the leap and told her that the cheque, years ago, arrived after I’d loast the apartment. Lip service to having tried. She heard my story. I told her that since then, I’ve lost fait and trust in people but have strengthened my faith in God. (Well, I test him now.) – 2E22 at 15h20 – She told me that if I have faith in God then I have to have faith in mankind. Then she told me that I should have called before coming in. It would have saved a lot of wear and tear on the body. I said that my body doesn’t make much difference these days, I’m in the shelter. Even at that, I’m in it simply for the experience. I was blunt. I told her it was a simple choice between the shelter or death, and I still can’t be too certain why I chose the shelter. She told me to wait a few moments, she’d be right back. Well, a very few moments later she came back to tell me that I needed to go to a store where I could buy what I need, have them write an “estimate” and bring that back to her. “I deal in vendor cheques, not cash.” She told me there’s a uniform store up on Nassau, get the “estimate”, bring it to her on the 10th floor. She didn’t say they’d cover it. She didn’t say they wouldn’t. My feet were sore already, I was hungry, tired, thirsty. I went. It was about 11h by now. – Up Maiden to Nassau, up Nassau to the end. No store. I was at Pace already and, well, I thought, if they teach Nursing, somebody should know where to get uniforms. I tried. – In the lobby, the security guard, a lovely, soft-spoken woman, told me she had no idea where to get uniforms. I joked about no longer being able to look in a phone book since everything’s on the Internet now. But just as I turned to leave and start walking all over the Financial District, THERE, beside her, a phone book! 2005, but a phone book! She gave it to me and I went browsing. Most stores are in The Bronx and New Jersey. Many are up-town. One was only at 386 on Broadway. I could just about manage that walk. I thanked her and left. – O.K. Uniforms is about 4 long blocks from Pace. Avi, the proprietor, young black kippa and the longest peyote I’ve ever seen tucked up slyly under the kippa, greeted me with “Shalom”. (Rachel? You were so right about wearing a kippa!) I told him what I needed. Jackie had said “two” sets of scrubs and shoes. So I told Avi. I went through what they had in scrubs. A woman asked if I was finding what I needed. I was, but needed the shoes. “Size?” 11. She replied “Weppa” but went into the back and moments later came out with a box containing size 11, white, professional but comfy shoes! OK! I found the scrubs, had the shoes, Avi printed a receipt for me. 113$. I figured “Not a chance” but thanked him and returned, slowly, limping, to 80 Maiden. It was about 11h40. A woman gave me a “Standard Application” for persons under the age of 60. It struck me when I told her I’m under by only 7 years. ONLY 7 YEARS! Shit! But I completed the application, she copied my social security and Benefits cards and gave all, with receipt, to Jackie. More waiting. I asked if I could eat my 2 little sandwiches (peanut butter and cream cheese, made this morning before leaving the shelter), she said “Of course!” I promised not to leave crumbs. She thanked me. I ate and as I ate, Jackie passed to leave “Enjoy your nosh.” I said “If my sugar goes down too much…” “Don’t go getting sick on me now!: We chuckled. She left. I finished and began journaling. – As is obvious by the writing, I was falling asleep as I wrote. It was horrible! I couldn’t keep from dozing off! It’s become that way now: I get someplace out of the shelter and I doze off! It’s got to be because, in the shelter, EVERY second in on watch, on guard, expecting violence of some kind. (Even as I write this, at 19h21, the Spics are in the hall, wandering like feral chickens, yelling and slamming doors. So conducive to relaxation. TRASH!) Get out of the shelter into the world of civilized human, humane beings and the body collapses. – I didn’t see her return but in a matter of maybe 20 minutes, she, Jackie, came from her office and asked me to come with her. We went back to the 21st floor. En route I told her of my entry into the shelter. I’ve resolved to tell everyone I can about Shockeye. She said it’s a shame how people can be so ignorant that they choose to stop thinking beyond such stupidity. We arrived back where I’d begun on 21. Jackie bade me have a seat. – It wasn’t 10 minutes later when she returned with an envelope. Handing it to me she said “You can open it. I just prefer doing it this way.” IN THE ENVLOPE WAS A 100, A 10, 3 SINGLES, THE RECEIPT! NOTHING MORE! NOTHING LESS. When I thanked her, she said “None of us knows if or when we might be on the other end of this. I just hope someone will be there to help me if my time come. Meanwhile, I do what I can. Happy New Year. Good luck.” I was (and still am) numb. En route to Met this morning I was angry, knowing that I’m worthy and deserving of help. I’ve given, given, given, in silence and when-ever I’ve asked for help I’ve gotten just less or not at all. I expected that today. OK. So I got just exactly and nothing more. But I received help… nothing less! Jackie and I parted on the 10th floor. Me? I hobbled directly back to O.K. Uniforms, handed Avi the cash and proceeded to PAINFULLY limp and hobble back up-town. It was about 14h. I thought the slow, painful walk would take at least 2 hours. Well, even with a stop at 17th and 1st for a smoke, I was back at the shelter by 15h10! WITH MY WHITES! (20h59 signed-in, smoke.) Met Mike on the way in at 15h. Chatted a bit. I wasn’t sure I’d be allowed in before 16h. I so needed to get off my feet. The PAIN was horrible. I was thirsty. I needed to pee. What another blessing to come to this vacant, stark, cold room, take off my work-boots, wash my socks, t-shirt, scrub top, lie down. The sun poured in through the window and directly on me. I fell asleep for almost an hour. – 16h38 I woke. I decided to break the 20 from Joycelyn for another pouch of Bugler, having finished the second pouch today. Flip-flops on and downstairs just in time to see DHS Security in action! A tall, thin, very dark Black man. I’d seen him a couple of days ago. Scars on his bald head. Surgical. I remembered thinking he’d be trouble. Indeed, he was. The take-down reminded me of the Wingdale days but this time, no “sheet” no Ativan, just cuffs. The big, burly White guy with the kind face smiled. “This is the second time.” I waited until the carcass was done, had a smoke, not wanting to get too close, then hobbled over to 2nd for smokes. En route back, stopped at an obscure bench in the projects, rolled a smoke and hobbled back for 2 peanut butter and honey sandwiches. Time to journal the day and wait for sing-in at 20h. – As Fate would have it, at just past 20h, FIRE ALARM! Harsh. Shattering. Haunting. Awful! The electronic blips, at different pitches, echo all through this hollow, empty, cold, concrete asylum. I focused on climbing the 5 flights but at one point it almost choked me. I don’t’ know what, exactly, it evoked but I was, for the briefest moment, in terror on the stair! Deep breath. Climbing slowly. Non-stop to 7. All was as if nothing unusual was happening. – And so, 21h17. the trash is making havoc in the halls. I’m just going to get to bed and hope with all, for sleep. I wish I could take something to help but the only thing I have has codeine and if I have to take a drug test, I’ll be screwed. So, I’ll suffer through trying for sleep. – It’s cold in here tonight. I closed the window. The forecast in the elevator on Maiden Ln. said 44degrees F for tomorrow night. Winter is coming. It’ll be interesting to see if I make it that far. This is all beginning to wear me down, mentally, emotionally, physically.
DREAM
I napped this evening. A dog. Jack Russel? Black, brown and white being attacked by a larger, short-haired, grayish dog, in the stairway here, in the shelter. I grabbed the large dog at the neck to choke it, with both my hands. It reared, pulling the neck-skin up over it’s eyes. Its tongue protruded. It went limp. I left it on the landing and called the little dog to follow me. It did. I looked back. The large dog regained consciousnesses, tried to follow me aand the small dog, but couldn’t. I was surprised that I managed to choke the large dog and happy to have saved the small dog. I was prepared to kick the large dog if it got too close to us. I woke.
NOTE: WHITES & SHOES! FULLUNIFORM! Jackie-Met Council. O.K. Uniform-113 Total
Resched PIC Orientation for Mon.13 October.

Tue.7 (54/23) 8h44 Bryant Park. 46degrees F. A horrible night, last night. RicanTrash in the hall most of the night. – Woke 6h16. Shaved. Painful. Bad razors! Showered. Dressed. So much pain, right foot blistered! So much Pain! – Cold this morning. Not enough for a heavy jacket, too cold for sweat shirt. – Hobbled slowly up to here. Library open at 9h. No particular destination today. Certainly can’t walk any great distance. It would seem this is truly a “Homeless” day. Considering trip to Rockaway but not certain. Just a touch down. – Two brief messages from Angel. “Call me.” It’s costing me phone time. How to get 22$ to put on the phone. Dilemma du jour. And where to charge the phone today. Dilemma du jour deux. – I find time dragging yesterday and today. When I’m not hurried, neither is time. Always arriving too early. – When I get up from here there will be more pain. As I sit here, more cold. 5 more minutes to library. There’s no sunshine to be found in the morning. No warmth. This can’t continue much longer. I can’t take much more of it. I simple can’t. There are places I could go. But I can’t walk! My worst dread has come to be: “Can’t walk.” 2 minutes to library. A slow hobble. A bit of time on-line. Then what? I just don’t know. – 10h58. A to Rockaway. 75 mins. on-line at library. Immediate appointment. Posted twice to Luach. – Only 9,50 on phone. Had to block Angel for now. – Tired. Dissociated somehow. Hungry. – MetroCard was 7,50$ not 7$. – Nap time on the A. – 21h28. A108. SpicTrash in the hall. Doors slamming away! Fuck! It’s almost amazing how stupid these morons can be and still they manage to breathe. Just amazing. Black and Beige alike. – Anyway, I’m in. Throat coated with sand. Nose dripping. Eyes dry. Head heavy. Something’s coming on and it ain’t Christmas. I can’t afford to feel like shit now. I just can’t! I just won’t! – Believe it or not, some dick-head is tapping on something at the construction site next door at this hour! Sometimes the world’s just hateful. But, I did manage to get my new meal ticket, valid until the 14th, sign-in and wash my socks from today (the blister broke) and a set of whites (to take out the folded creases – replacing them with plain wrinkles). I could wish for a good night’s sleep but it won’t happen, so why bother? – The day: off the train at 116th and to the post office for nothing but 2 pieces of junk for the previous “resident”! – I need my direct deposit info. FUCK! To Waldbaums for today’s lunch and snack. Food Stamps down to about 11$ and more not due until Friday. Time to watch. The markets in The City are too fucking expensive! But as I went through the aisles of Waldbaums, it felt good to be “home”. So familiar. So quiet. So needed. – The Q35 to the Fort. Penelope and Geoff. Both working and both quiet. I truly admired the glass-like, almost liquid-like appearance of Penelope’s sculpture as she buffed and waxed. It honestly is a wonder that happens to the stone. The piece? Not to my taste. The “art”? Magnificent! – Ego-stroking. That’s what I do. – Geoff is painting on a huge, stretched bit of brownish fabric, not canvass. Brick wall. No doubt for the Halloween do (the one I’ll have to miss again this year!). But both of them, very quiet. – I arrived about 13h! Later than I’d expected to arrive. Still, the peace, the quiet, the serenity, clear skies, sea breezes, warm sun… feeling of “home”… I didn’t care about anyone or anything. I had my lunch in the back yard. – Geoff left. Tommy came. Penelope’s mood brightened. I’m obviously not HER COMPANY OF CHOICE. Ah, then, but, what the fuck? Eh? Tommy told jokes. Geoff returned. They smoked a dube out back, cracked jokes. Tommy told me of his few days working on the “Nugget” bar in Monticello! (or, Montighetto, as he called it). Of ALL places! So we talked Catskills. It amazed him that so many people up there have guns. Duh. He stayed at someone’s home out in Swinging Bridge. Ah, well then. It was a bit of fun to tell my “I remember that when” tid bits. – I left at 15h30. Fare well, Funston. As delightful as it may be to be there, the most blatantly obvious fact that remains is that, for all the hoopla the RAA claims, NOT ONE, knowing I’m in the shelter, need work and money, NOT ONE has done ANYTHING, NOT EVEN OFFERED to help me in ANY way. I think of this, always. Not that I care. I just note it. – (22h01 BLOODY MUTHERFUCKING USELESS DICKHEADED SHIT MOUTHED SPICS IN THE BASTARD-FUCKING HALL AT THIS BLODDY ARSE-FUCKING HOUR!) – Out to PHC to find Joycelyn. Yay! She was there and so happy to see me! I told her about getting the whites. She was planning to get them for me! Dinner trays came. She put one together for me. Chicken, veggies, pasta, potato, soup, coffee, pineapple chunks. I hid in 257 and shoved it down so quickly, lest I get caught. Klembitch was on the floor. (22h15 I have to try for some sleep!) – (9h02 Wed. at library. Feeling like shit)I just don’t want to deal with her interrogations and, as with this evening, false smiles of concern. Two-faced bitch. And, while I’m on the two-faced folk: Brenda, who comes at me with judgment, tells me about New Haven Home Care and does absolutely NOTHING to help me along to getting back to work. Her first question to me was “Are you working?” Not a “How are you?” As Joycelyn pointed out, Rachel will do things to “help”> Brenda will simply spew words. She’s generally useless. But then, I did find, in a previous conversation with her, that she’s one of those “Orthodox” who believes that, if one is not of “her” belief, one is unworthy of even her attention. And this is a Nurse! We move along to the next patroniser: Rozann, who came to the floor as I was about to leave. A simple, blatantly forced smile. Why does she bother? I asked her about the paper-work allegedly sent to the shelter to “Arlene”. I told her it’s been 3 weeks in the shelter and nobody I’ve spoken with knows of any “Arlene” DEFENCE! The tone, turned hostile and she blurted “Of course I faxed your records over! Hoe do you think you go in there in the first place?” I calmly replied: “Just like anybody else off the streets. I went through the general procedures like everyone lese. And all along I asked about the records and nobody knew what I was talking about.” She continued to insist and dropped the acronym “PLU” for “Arlene and Vanessa Cupid”, a Nurse, and another name I can’t recall just now. I tried to allay her tension, made my point and she toddled off, irritated. So? So. – Joycelyn’s talking about buying me a set of pots and pans for my apartment already. She makes certain I eat. She’s planned on buying me clothes. She’s actually taking care of me. And she says “That’s just the way I am.” Yes. And it’s just the way I’d always been… until now. We parted, her telling me that she’s on the week-end and asking if I had carfare to back. Where has she come from and how is it my life is touched by her? Now, of all times. She’s a blessing… a true gift. A miracle. – It was about 17h20 when I left PHC, got the Q22 to 139th. Stopped by to see Lillian Benjamin to pay respects. She candid: “Not well.” Told me how she’d planned on bringing Walter home. How difficult the coming Bar Mitzvah will be. She wept a bit and asked if I’m still in the area. Co comment when I told her that I’m in The City (no details). Said she was cooking “for yontiv” and couldn’t talk but ended with “Come by any time.” I never got inside the door. But, I suppose that’s better. I needed to back anyway. – Q53 to the 2 to the 5 to the 6 to 28th. I was back in by about 19h30. – Upstairs for meal ticket. Down-stairs for quick nosh and water and such. Back up-stairs for sign-in. Down stairs for smoke. Upstairs to end a busy day in a fucking hell-hole of Earth’s trash. – Noting, however: as I did my little laundry, a new face says “Big holiday coming up for you, huh?” White guy. We joked about the starvation of Yom Kippur and tradition vs. religion. There are some pleasant people around in the world. A few… very few…

Wednesday 8. (55/24) 9h38 Midtown Library 2nd floor. I’m continuing… VERY, VERY little sleep last night! Stuffy, runny nose. Couldn’t breathe well because of scratchy throat. Couldn’t get comfortable. My mind wouldn’t shut down! Miserable. I even had to get up to pee at one point. The next thing I know, I’m looking at my little clock. 6h58 – Coffee. Shower. Quick half smoke. Feeling run down, run over. Tired, tired. Scratchy throat. Runny nose. I’m dozing here. No plans for the day., The phone is charging. The time is passing slowly! SO slowly. – Sign on the 7th floor at the Shelter tells that linens for 2nd floor are exchanged on “Wednesday”. I’d planned that for today. However, th sign on the 2nd floor tells “Tuesday”. Bloody inconsistencies and stupidity! But I went to the “linen office” on 5 only to find it locked! FUCKED AGAIN! So I jus tleft and came here, arriving for a queue and entry. – I’m run-down this morning. But I’ve got a few things that can be done. Let’s see how we manage this comfortably coolish day. – 18h46 in 2E-22. This place is as good as dead. Silent. Wonderfully silent. I’ve just awakened from a sleep of almost 2 hours! It’s sun-down. Yom Kippur. The fast has begun. Will I make it this year? No promises. – Got on-line with an extra 15 minutes. Had I known, I’d have done my CV and cover lettre. I got both written as I sat at the table on the 2nd floor. I also got the cell phone charged fully. Now all I need is money for it. – Received an e-mail from Met Council Home Care, addressed to “Miss” Judah K. Even there! Stupid women who either don’t read or don’t pay attention. Anyway, applications are on the 21st floor. I’ll go and give the Shelter as my address. Maybe they’ll get me work and get me out of here. Too much? Most probably. I also sent a “Thank you” to Jackie. Will have to write her one as well. Perhaps tomorrow while I fast. – I managed to stay in the library until about 13h30 then went over to Bryant Park for a smoke. 2, actually. Sat at a little table with cell phone to ear, talking full conversation-like to nobody. And I carried it along until almost 14h30! If anybody knew… there I was. The phone wasn’t even turned on! But it passed the time until I went over to Chabad. Now there was an experience. Yes, it’s the old Takashamaya building! 2nd floor. Elevator opens directly into a room full of tables, chairs… an Ark! Like a fancy dining room with an Ark! A woman in an office behind plexiglass invited me in. Katherine (with a K.). She took a call. Tomorrow’s services at… A pre-fast meal for 36$ per person. Suggested donation for tomorrow 100$. Oh well,. And I had an invitation to atend in Beth El, Belle Harbor, free! My own congregation! I told her I’m Conservative. She told me she’s Reform! We both agreed we’re ALL Jews and it doesn’t make any difference in the long run of it all. She put me down on the list for Kol Nidrei tonight and tomorrow’s services! I told her I’m stuck in The City, no proper attire. She told me they have many ddifferent people attending, back packers, Israelis and 2 Asians. Of course, there will be the rich, mid-town Jews as well, but I shouldn’t stay away. “The holiest day of the year and they should turn you away because of attire? What kind of message would that send?” She invited me to linger, browse, wit, read, meditate. I did browse. Chumash, Talmud, Tanach, Siddur… Orthodox. I thanked Katherine. She bade me enjoy this evening. I left. – Now, About D’Agostino’s on 38th. I’m fed up! Little rolls on the bin. 3 at 1,15$. The girl rang-up 69cents EACH for 3. I didn’t notice until I got to the park to eat! Last time the peanut butter. No I’m pissed! Giving them money! OK. Food Stamps. But money non-the-less. Last time! – 3 dinner rolls with cream cheese. Yoghurt. Relaxed. A smoke. 16h and back to Castle Bellevue. – A female guard on the 2nd floor and I spoke. She tells me of stories of ghosts about the place. We laughed about the plans to turns this into a hotel. I said I want to come for a night and tell the guests what it was. We laughed. She said I’d put them out of busiuness. – I came in, had 3 rolls with peanut-butter and vanilla frosting, an instant green tea, laid down to sleep. – 19h33 (1933!) I ate for the last time. I feel I should. Nose is sore and runny, runny, runny. Coughing. Sneezing. A little better than before. But to go hungry now, when the body needs energy. First mitzvah is to save life. I have. Now I fast. – The schmucks are working at the construction site outside my window! I know they’re breaking a law of some kind AND disturbing my peace! – A door closed in the hall. The morons return, like the monkeys to the wicked witch in Oz… – 21h09 Met Mike (2E-21) on the queue tonight. He’s bak on the 2nd floor in what used to be the “Over-night” beds. Good talking with him. But these “friend-ships” are fleeting. Although, he’s been pretty constant. One can’t figure anybody in here. None of us knows anything about anybody. – I’m feeling weak. Mike says I’m supposed to get a grey blanket. I’ll have to get linens! Somehow. – A little reading from the Tanach for Yom Kippur and to sleep. I discovered my Dor Chadash t-shirt in with my tallit. It was filthy! Washed it thoroughly. It’s hanging in the window. I hope it will be dry enough to wear tomorrow. I might just go to service at 9h. (No doubt God will see to it that the shirt isn’t dry enough. – I thought today: How would Riverdale Temple feel if I showed up and let it be known I’m in the shelter. But, in my heart I know exactly… it wouldn’t touch any of them at all.)

Thursday 9 October 2008 19h58 (56 Homeless/25 Shelter) YOM KIPPUR DONE. A TRULY MISERABLE DAY! THIS COLD PEAKED WHILE I WAS AT SERVICES! I SOAKED ALL MY TISSUES AND BANDANA! ABSOLUTELY SOAKED! AND HERE I SIT ON THIS BED, HOT FLASHES, TISSUE STUCK IN MY NOSE, SNEEZING, EYES DRIPPING. JUST BLOODY MISERABLE! PLEASE! LET THIS BE THE WORST OF IT. – The alarm was set for 7h and, like yesterday, I woke at 6h59. took my time getting up. I wasn’t sure if or where I’d go to services. By 8h20 I was out the door with no particular direction or destination. it looked as if it had rained last night and appeared to want to rain again. But somewhere in the streets I decided to head to 23rd to find that synagogue Riverdale Mike told be about. And so I walked along to Chelsea. the City was quiet so the walk wasn’t too much of an effort. I felt like last week’s shit 2 Fridays form tomorrow. But I got to 23rd. there, mid-block, south side, an old synagogue. I’m still uncertain how, but I simply crossed the street and walked in. A woman stood on the stairs to my right. I asked “Have services started?” “We were waiting for you.” she replied. A Latino, non-Jew (no kippa) bade me leave my back-pack down-stairs in what is a small “Beit Midrash”. I left the pack, brought my tallit. “Up-stairs to your left.” he told me. I went, non-stop, as if I’ve been there all along. In the sanctuary it was delightfully old. An old man led services, the Chazzan’s voice was pure song! I learnt later the congregation has no rabbi. But the service was magnificent! Attendance began sparse, increased, thinned. I was given a card: I opened the ark at page something-or-other. Another amazement at how comfortably I walked up to the Bimah, opened the curtain as instructed (manually) (no electric Ark here. Conservative!), continued to daven, closed, shook hands, returned to my seat. Ah, Jews. Comfort. – The schul, Emunath Israel, has a balcony and a mechitza of sorts. A Plexiglas separating 2 rows to the right. Conservative! Comfort. If only my nose and eyes weren’t dripping NON-STOP! Well, I made it through schachrit, yizkor and most of Mussaf but by 13h I couldn’t take any more. I had nothing left to blow my nose or dab my eyes. I went down to the men’s room, washed my saturated bandana, wrapped it in some paper towels, got my back-pack and departed. – The day had become almost Summery a\warm! So I walked to the end of 23rd, 11th Av, to some new “park” there. I took off the kippa and had a smoke. God forgave me even as I went to do so. I am atoning and then some: Shelter, homeless, jobless, foodless, Food Stamp-less, fasting (I did have a coffee though before leaving the shelter), friendless, alone. I am in constant atonement. – For an hour, I feigned talking on the cell-phone. Familiar? I’m getting quite good at it really.) – PIC called. Left a message. Will re-schedule Orientation. Please call back. I did. More bloody voice-friggin-mail! Why can’t they simply re-sched and tell me! It pisses me off and wastes phone time! – Anyway, I got to sit in the hot sun and the shade, going between too warm and too cold. At 15h45 I started back to Castle Bellevue. – Exhausted and SO thirsty and hungry I made an educated decision: I drank 2 green teas and finished the frosting and 3 rolls. I’m sick! I need some sort of something to combat what’s ripping at me. I ate. But about 17h I was out cold asleep. At about 20h50 I went up to sign-in and here it is, 21h09 and I’m back! It was quieter than the 20h crew. Of course, this hall cackles with the shrieks of Ricantrash. But… Hopefully I’ll be in the dark and asleep soon. – My feet are sore. My nose is raw. My eyes burn. My head aches. My heart is heavy. My thoughts are dark. – But a note before closing this day: The DHS cop who helped me the night I got this room has remained THE MOST respectful person (save my case-worker) in this entire place. He always addresses me as “Sir”, always asks how it’s going. This evening we spoke on the stair. I mentioned something about getting old. He said “One day I’ll be old too.” When I went out for my smoke after 19h, he simply wand-canned me in saying “You’re good sir. Thank you.” One good human-being in here who allows dignity. – Oh, last night, a young guy came in just ahead of me and dropped a black kippa! Another Jew in here! I wish I knew where. For all the talk of tzedaka, why are Jews in this shelter? Lip service and nothing more. – I’ve got to wash my bandana for the second time and try for some sleep here amidst the hell. – One more note, As I left this morning, I lit a cigarette. As I did, I whispered :OK God, HIT ME!” and with that, my right foot slipped on the rubber, non-skid runner! I didn’t fall. But how funny was that? – (My eyes and nose are a steady drip now.) MISERY!

Friday 10 Oct. 57/26 9h20 Bryant Park. I broke down just before lights out last night. Took one pain killer and happily, I don’t’ recall a thing about last night’s sleep. That means I slept right through. I did have 2 dreams, but I only recall part of one. BUT THE MOST EXCELLENT NEWS OF THIS MORNING IS THAT ALL THAT DRAINING YESTERDAY HAS BROUGHT ME TO A DRY DAY TODAY! INDEED, I PEAKED YESTERDAY. And this morning is a clear, warm, comfortable day. I just wish my clothes were clean. – Up at 7h. A coffee and a hit (cigarette). The shower@ 2 pairs each: filthy socks and under-shorts! Water all over the floor. At 8h11, DHS came tapping on the door, opened it then let it slam. 2 minutes later! Same, with-out knocking. Just to slam. They are pitiful. I let it go. No sense bothering with it. – Out the door and a casual stroll to Partners In Care where I spoke, enjoyably, with Ms. Cummings and am scheduled for a one day “Skills Test” on Monday AND “Orientation”, PAID, on Wednesday. IF I’m correct, I’m paid for orientation at Rockaway as well! Money coming. But if it’s in cheques, it’s all but worthless. Still, maybe I’ll get out of Castle Bellevue and on to something better. Time will tell. – Here, they’re tearing up the sod, tossing it like carpet tiles. It’s perfectly green. I wonder where it goes from here. I can think of many places where it could go to excellent use. Living grass, thrown about. Man treats grass AND humans the same: disposable. – The longer I spend here, in The City, the more I come to dislike it. I want, so much, to get back out to Rockaway and live a peaceful life. May yesterday atone and make me worthy of being so blessed. – 9h43 and waiting for the library. After that? Dead space in the day. – 15h at the river-side. These are the good days of being homeless and jobless. A beautiful day. Comfortable. Only (of course) I’ve eaten my little lunch and my bowels are gurgling! Of course. Still, I left the library at 13h, spent 30 minutes or so at Bryant Park talking to myself on the phone (again). Went to D’Ag on 28th. Food Stamps came in today. When I mentioned the over-charge on the rolls yesterday, the head cashier gave me 92cents refund! Cash! Plus the 30 in my pack, I have 1,22$ cash! And the 10 left from Jocelyn! 11,22$! I’m getting so close to that condo on the beach! OK Maybe something I ate wasn’t fresh. But the afternoon of dead space is almost Done. The total misery of yesterday has passed into 2 fits of coughing because of a tickle. The sun is warm but the breeze, refreshing, and when I get back to Castle Bellevue, I’ll wash my socks and nap. I even have something to eat later tonight! Now, to plan for Rockaway tomorrow. I hope. – 19h53 From about 16h30-almost 19h30 I slept! BUT THE BLOODY-FKING SNEEZING, RUNNY NOSE, WATERY EYES, TICKLE IN THE THROAT, HOT FLASHES ARE ALL BACK, FULL SWING!!!!! NOSE-BLOWING AND COUGHING FITS. JUST LIKE YESTERDAY! – I dreamt too. Viv and Montreal, “Little Drummer Boy”. – Rolled my last 5 smokes. Had one here. Cleaned the window sill. – When I did my little wash earlier, got talking with a guy who I spoke with, doing his own wash a few days ago. He’s from Houston! Has been to Lafayette, Port Arthur, Lac Charles and hitched to NY! Georgia, Ohio, Tennessee. Older guy. Said I could get to Lafayette in 2,5 days if I stay on the Interstate. It’s so tempting! Ah, the guys you meet here! – Anyway, I’m going to sign-in after 20h30 again. Meanwhile, I’m just COUGHING AND DRAINING AGAIN! SHIT!!!!! – 21h55 In for the night. The queue at 20h30 was all the way down the hall so I went out for a smoke. When I got back to 7, it was just past the half-hall. Must be a full house these days. Sonny was standing in the hall. THEY BUMPED HIM! RE-ASSIGNED HIS BED! CLAIM HE WASN’T IN IT AT 1h30! YET, 9 OUT OF HIS MATES SAY HE WAS THERE! THIS IS HOW THIS PLACE FKS WITH PEOPLE! So, again, I MUST prepare for some kind of bull-shit to happen JUST when things begin to come together. SOME-body will pull SOME BULL-SHIT when I can least afford it. – Meanwhile, this after-noon’s wash (undies) is dry! I’m ready for tomorrow and hoping for un-medicated sleep tonight. – 22h41 AND THE RICOTRASH STARTS THE BLOODY FKING BULLSHIT! THEY REALLY SHOULD BE WIPED OFF THE EARTH! ALL OF THEM!
DREAM
Viv and I were together. She was staying at my apt. It was on Liberty St. in Newburgh. I had the Volkswagen too. She had to go buy Bugler. We were rolling cigarettes. I went to park the car in front of the building. I turned on the radio to a Spanish station. “Little Drummer Boy” tune but lyrics: “Here he’s come again, pa-rum-pum-pum-pum” in English with Spanish accent. I thought “They just can’t get anything right. Not even on the radio. Then, I thought of Mom and how happy to be with Viv…

Saturday 11 (58/27) – 21h29 A108 Over-all, it was a super-superb day. Of course, it ends with coming her and, at this hour, having to bear the yelling and door-slamming of the Ricantrash. Ah, but nothing in Creation is with-out price. This is my fee for the lovely day. – I slept for the night, for the most part. Two dreams that I’ll try to fit in this journal. (I’m on page 78 of 81.) But right now, the day… Up at 6h30. I took my time to shower and such. Left about 8h for Rockaway! I didn’t wear the kippa though because of the trains, buses, and shopping. Well! What a trip! Construction on the Canarsie line (L) so I had to take the Nr.6 to 14th St, the L to Myrtle-Wyckoff, the M to Myrtle Ave, the J to Broadway Junction, the A to Broad Chanel and the shuttle to b116th. I asked the token clerk if I still had a transfer on the card. “You have until 10:26.” It was about 10:15 already! I bombed to the post office. NO, NO, NO BLOODY FUCKING ADP INFO! FUCKING AFTER-BIRTH IDIOTS! So, a dash to Waldbaums where it cost me too much because they had none of my 79-cent cold cuts so I bought “Butterball”, and no “Total” Fage with honey and no Meunster cheese! But I go substitutes and a small jar of instant coffee and bolted for the bus with 5 minutes to go. 10h30, the bus left, with me on it! To The Fort. Geoff, Tommy, Billy were working on the Moon Stage, welding and painting. Penelope finished her sculpture and was working in clay for her next one. Peaceful. Beautiful. I cleaned the back yard of T6 and potted the baby pine for indoors. I’m interested to see if it survives. Over-all, I took it easy. Christen came by and I got to thank her and bring her up to date. She’s taking courses in EMT, phlebotomy, NYPD, all sorts of Civil Service jobs. I gave her the Queens addresse for the free CAN. Somebody she knows lost 40k because of this “recession” and her Mom has had to forget about retiring. It’s all shit these days. At about 15h or so, I left for the 22 to PHC. Used an empty MetroCard and was about to get off the bus when the driver said “Don’t worry about it.” Truthfully? I did it on purpose so to have the full fare for the train back and unlimited time visiting with Jocelyn! Hey! I deserve a “free ride”. – 2N was quiet. Jocelyn was at the desk. I joked about getting a room for the night. Lillian said they had one waiting. (22h20 I’m exhausted… tomorrow…) (Sun.12 13h25 MMLib) Jocelyn greeted me more warmly than family. Seeing her feels as if I’m re-uniting with family. She asked how I am and how all is going. We talked on until 16h30 when the dinner trays arrived. She pulled one, put it to the side for me. She makes certain that I eat. She fed a patient as she and I ate. (I had the stew with pasta. Good, hot food!) I stayed until 18h and as I got ready to leave, she handed me 2 Fives and a 10. I’m now into her debt for 40$. But I can certainly use the cash. She also asked my jeans and shoe size. “We’ll take care of that.” she keeps saying. Yes, I can use more clothes but I can’t go deeper into anyone’s debt. And learning to accept is difficult. – It was painful leaving… Jocelyn, Rockaway. A perfect evening. The foliage at the shore is changing. Deep greens, reds, yellows. An awesome sun-set sky. Gentle breeze. Peace. Peace. Peace. It’s my “Home”. I want to be there! – Only 3 trains back: A to 14th/8th Av, L to Union Sq., 6 to 28th. Peace O. was on the sign-in table. The queue was short, sweet, quick. She asked how thing are. “Very good. And I hope better when you get back.” She’s off Sun. and Mon. – In the room for the night. Hungry, hungry. Ate. Journalled. Set my alarm for 8h30.
DREAM
Rooftops. Friends walking .One take “path” to edge. I have a breakdown. Aware of what’s going on but unable to communicate. Spasms. Come out of it in posh house. Am homeless. Must get back to check-in. – Strange Frizbee-like thing flying haphazardly. It lodges in a tree by utility pole. A pigeon is attached to it. Legs stuck in branches. Rungs on pole to climb but I’m terrified. Too high.

Sunday 12 (59/28) – 13h48 MMLib. Continuing. I did it! Slept-in until 8h30! Earlier I had to pee but wouldn’t get up to go. Forced myself to stay in bed. – At ONE POINT DURING THE NIGHT I WOKE, LOOKED OVER MY HEAD OUT THE WINDOW TO SEE THE MOON! MEMORIES OF THE BAKFORT. HOW I WISH! – Had my coffee and a bit of my cigarette. Got my things together for the day and off to the shower. WELL! Somebody left 2 pages of straight porn and a latex glove in the shower room. The floor was covered in water. A woman was cleaning the toilet rooms with bleach. I don’t understand why the shelter allows these vermin bastards to destroy the place! It’s fucking bloody disgusting! I wonder what sorts of disease breeds in there. I’ll probably find out, the hard way. – Showered, dressed, out by about 9h30. The City was so quiet! The sky, perfectly blue. I walked to Jack’s 99-cent on 32nd. I browsed for almost TWO hours and came away with a nail file, clippers, stuff to make the room smell better and 2 sketch books. THE SAME SKETCH BOOKS I GOT AT THE 99-CENT STORE IN YONKERS! – Strolled to Bryant Park. French music again at the carousel. Began a sketch of my Bakfort dunes. Came here. – I’m hungry. Time to take my PC. – 18h57 Dark. Already. If this place (Castle Bellevue) could always be as it is right now: silent. – Got 5 CV’s and covers corrected and printed. Finished the 1st sketch in the library. Stopped at Jack’s 99-cent on 40th for Yardley Lavender soap. They’ve got my CI Av socks there! Yay. Now. If only I had cash. I’ve got 15 left. – Got back in, ate peanut butter and cheese, and Fage Hey! I did my nails AND my jeans! Just trimmed my beard too! Ready for tomorrow. I want to take a quick shower before bed tonight too. This hole (room) smells better. I got dryer sheets and air spray. At last! No funk. Now, if tomorrow – NO! Tomorrow WILL be perfect. – E-mail from Jackie at Met Council: “All I ask is that you pass along your blessings to somebody else. HAPPY NEW YEAR.” Jackie? I shall. I do. – At 20h20 I WENT UP TO SIGN-IN, LOOKING FORWARD TO A NIGHT’S SLEEP AND AS I LOOK AT THE LIST I SEE: UNASSIGNED! I’M MOVED! “GO SEE ALEXANDER.” I DO. NEW BED! NEW CASE WORKER! NEW BED! NEW FLOOR! RUN, PACK. UP TO 5. SEE MR. JAMES! TURMOIL! SHUT DOWN. MOVE ON. MR. JAMES IS HANDLING OTHER XFERS. “GIVE ME YOUR PAPER AND HAVE A SEAT IN THE LOUNGE.” FUCK THEM ALL IN THEIR BLOODY “LOUNGE”. 21h21 IN THE “LOUNGE” 5TH FLOOR. I’M WAITING, WET JEANS IN PLASTIC BAG. SWEATING LIKE I’M FEVERISH! THERE’S A CRAZY NIGGER THREATENING TO PUNCH SOMEBODY AND PACING… “MOTHERFKER” TO EVERYBODY AS HE PACES. I LEFT MY PAPER WITH SOME DUMB FUCK IN AN OFFICE. LET’S SEE HOW LONG I’LL BE HERE. – 21h48 BED D18 IN A ROOM WITH 3 OTHERS. I’M BY THE DOOR! WINDOWS ARE BLOCKED WITH SCREENS AND THE BED IS BESIDE 2 LOCKERS. MY LOCKER IS PAD LOCKED! NOT COMBINATION! I FO TO A “CASE WORKER” WITH A VERY HEAVY SPANISH ACCENT. HE TELLS ME TO GO TO “OPERATIONS”. DOWN TO THE 1ST FLOOR. I WAIT, AND WAIT, AND WAIT AND FINALLY TELL THE “NIGGER” AT THE DESK ABOUT THE LOCK. “NOBODY AVAILABLE TO OPEN LOCKS TONIGHT. TELL THEM TOMORROW.” I HAVE TO BE AT WORK BY 8. “TELL THEM TOMORROW.” BACK UPSTAIRS, SPANISH GUY TELLS ME TO GO BACK AFTER MIDNIGHT! So, 22h21 BED MADE WITH DISGUSTING “FRESH” LINENS. A VERBAL FIGHT IN THE HALL. DOOR OPEN. LIGHT ON,. I’VE GOT THE FEELING THIS IS A VIOLENT FLOOR. I’M WET, SWEATING! I SO WANTED A SHOWER BEFORE BED TONIGHT! I’VE GOT TO BE UP AT 6h! NOW, AGAIN, I ASK “WHAT DID I DO TO DESERVE THIS? WET JEANS IN A BAG AND NO-WHERE TO HANG THEM. WHITES AND NEW SHOES IN ANOTHER BAG. MY BELONGINGS ARE ON THE FLOOR! I’M THINKING “OPTION” FOR TOMORROW. OFF TO THE BEACH. BACK TO ROCKAWAY! – THIS ROOM REEKS OF FLATULENCE! – YES. TIME TO CHECK-OUT… OF CREATION. – AT 22h30 I TRIED FOR SOME SLEEP, TO NO AVAIL. UP AT 24h04. DOWNSTAIRS TO “OPERATIONS” WHERE THE BITCH JUST TELLS ME “WE DON’T CUT LOCKS ON THIS SHIFT. COME BACK TOMORROW.” (I’LL BET THAT IF I WASN’T A JEW THEY’D DO IT!) SO, BACK UP-STAIRS, GRABBED A HALF SMOKE IN THE SHOWER ROOM, BACK TO THE BED TO TRY FOR SOME SLEEP. – FROM 1h-1h30, D17 IS IN AND OUT. I’M NOT ABLE TO SLEEP ANYWAY. SOME KIND OF EQUIPMENT RUNNING OUTSIDE. THIS IS SUCH A GRAND FUCK OF ALL THE TIME.

Mon. 13 (60 HOMELESS DAYS 60/29 SHELTER) 8h25 PIC CLASSROOM. I HALF-DOZED ALL NIGHT (MORNING!) THE FLOOR WAS QUIET BUT MY MIND WASN’T. ALARM CLOCK AND PHONE GOT ME A 5h30. TO THE SHOWER. ANAOTHER GUY (2 SHOWERS) SMOKING. ME TOO, IN THE SHOWER. HE TELLS ME THAT THIS IS THE FLOOR FOR WORKING PEOPLE WHO ARE TO BE SHIPPED OUT TO HOUSING. YES, AND A 108 WAS TO BE MY PERMANENT BED. SO? I SHOWER, DIG THROUGH MY THINGS, GET MY WHITES ON. DECIDE NOT TO BRING FOOD. ROOM-MATE ASKS HOW I SLEPT. “SLEPT?” HE COMPLAINS ABOUT ONE GUY’S SNORING. D15 IS ASLEEP UNDER HIS COMFORTER. I’M DRESSED. MY TROUSERS ARE TOO SHORT! JUST GO. GET OUT. I WANT, SO MUCH, TO HURT EVERYONE! I LEAVE, STROLL TO BROADWAY, NICE MORNING. ARRIVED AT 1250 BY 7h14! CAME IN AT 7h30. SIGN-IN AND TAKE A SEAT IN EMPTY CLASS-ROOM. – 8h35 10 WOMEN IN THE ROOM. NO CLASS YET! I COULD USE A BM AND A NAP! ANXIETIES ABOUT MY FEW BELONGINGS. THEY’RE UNDER THE BED! – 8h38 FINALLY! CLASS? NOPE. NOT YET. – 19h22 D18 The room is hot. It was a very warm day. Class of 16. Most were bright. most. A lot of information was covered. The instructress said 3-weeks worth in one day. I stayed awake all through. I still don’t know how, stress. Pure stress. but the important thing is I’m in Wednesday’s orientation. That begins at 7h30! So let’s see what bullshit these dick-heads pull on me tomorrow night. A shift at 23h to a 10-bed room? Fuckheads. they’re all so pitiful. When I fot out of class I was hungry, thirsty, tired. Thoughts of getting food and going to the river, but HAD to come back because I don’t have access to the locker. – *When I got in at about 17h30 I told “Operations” about cutting the lock. The whore on the diest took the bed number and said it would be done after dinner. It’s 19h30. Dinner’s been over 30 minutes ago. Let’s see (that they don’t fucking show again tonight.*) AH, MY MEAL TICKET? VALID 10/12-10/14 FOR BREAKFAST ONLY. I ate the turkey (whole package, sneaking bites), 3 rolls, 4 Little Debbies. If I didn’t have food here, I’d have had to go with-out. NOW the fuckers want to starve me too? I want to publish this journal now more than ever before. – My jeans are wet, hanging on the bed rail. If they get rusty? I’ll die in them – Right now I’m hoping Partners will put me to work immediately. Live-in. – I’m thirsty. Must go dig through the bags for my bottles. Coffee’s ready for morning though. – Oh, the Machinery running all day and night? A pump at the construction site! ALL DAY, ALL NIGHT! – Tonight I want to shower and sleep. Must be out by 8 tomorrow. The guy in D17 is really quite nice… and clean. But I don’t look forward to spending time in this room. D15 is empty. I hope for “normal” and clean. My spirits are sinking (and I’m running out of pages in this book!) – Just noticed: Room number 5W-101! NO COMMENT. – No shower. Too tired. Lights out. Gotta try for sleep tonight! – NOTE! George, D15, lost his bed last night due to failure to sign-in. HE GOT HIS BED RIGHT BACK TONIGHT. WOULD IT BE LIKEWISE FOR A WHITE MAN OR A JEW!

Tue. 14 (61/30) 10h30 MMLib: SUKKOTH – I am here, in blue scrubs, 2nd lfoor, since 9h, alone, on a beautiful day while my jeans are drying on my bed in the Men’s Homeless Shelter and I’m hungry and I’m wondering “Where are al of those charitable Jews who should invite the poor into the sukkah to join them in their meals and celebrations?” I wonder this as I sit here alone in my blue scrubs, passing this time on this festive day of celebration. – Last night I slept. I slept. I was told I could expect the lock on my locker to be cut between 22 and 22h30. I put the lights out at 23h. I woke this morning, 7h20, still unable to access the locker. I had my cold coffee, shat, brushed me teeth, smoke, HOT SHOWER, dressed, stored belongings under the bed and departed. it’s very difficult to be positive today. 5 hours and 15 minutes to “use up”. I’m tired. I’m hungry. I am, above all, bitter. – 13h10 Still at the table. Going for a smoke. Then PC time. Then (Ducer! * It was bound to happen sooner or later. I have no idea what this word is supposed to be as I type.*) I’m hungry! – 16h25 riverside. Accomplished precious little on-line. Did open a blog for this journal. Now to figure how to get it all typed. Far Rock library? Just the fare for a day out there will wipe my cash out. Well, we’ll see what comes. It would be perfect to get a live-in, West of B.116th, commencing this Monday. Orientation is tomorrow. I put my request to the metaphysical. – Found that Emunath Israel serves breakfast and hot lunch during the week. Sent an e-mail for more details. Used my name, told them I’m at the shelter. Maybe tomorrow after orientation I’ll check at the library. I’m in no hurry to get to the shelter any more. – Am doubtful I have locker access yet. – Dinner? Fage: plain and with homey, 3 dinner rolls with cream cheese, Cadbury Caramello and Starbucks vanilla. Enteman’s choc.chip cookies for munchies. – It’s getting chilly here. I’ll be forced to head back soon. My meal ticket expires today. I wonder how I get a new one now? My primary concerns” 1) Are my things intact under the bed? 2) A good night’s sleep for tomorrow. 3) Getting an immediate assignment. – Shit! 30 days at the shelter! And fuck! 61 days of homelessness! – 2 tugs bringing a tanker out. I wish I was on it. – (19h55 19h55 on the 15th) Finished my “dinner” in peace and strolled back to Hell and waited for sign-in. Up here, 6 guys constitutes “a long line”! On 7, a “regular line” is half the length of the hall. So, I et to the office to sign in, mention my meal ticket and sure enough, all shit hits the fan because nobody knows who my fucking case worker is. So, the one in the office has to issue another “temporary”, valid until Thursday AND IN THE MORNING (when I’m supposed to be orientation), I have to see some Ms. Reed or Reade or _ to find “my” case-worker! OK. Ah well. What the fuck? Just more bullshit. Like the plate on the Rockaway pick-up reads “You just can’t fix stupid”. – AH BUT I ALMOST FORGOT: WHEN I GOT BACK TO D18 THIS EVENING, EMPTY ROOM, STILL NO FUCKING ACCESS TO THE FUCKING LOCKER! PISSED, I GRABBED THE BLOODY PAD-LOCK, GAVE A FIRM PULL AND… POP!!!!! OPEN!!!!! SHITFUCKGODAMN! SO! I PULL OUT THE GARBAGE THAT WAS IN THERE, PUT ALL INTO A PLASTIC BAG, TEAR A TOWEL IN HALF AND CLEAN THE WHOLE INSIDE WITH THE AIR FRESHENER. HEY! IT DID THE JOB. NEXT WAS ARRANGING “ME” IN THE LOCKER, SLIGHTLY DAMP JEANS AND ALL. WHOLE BLOODY-FUCKING ORDEAL TOOK ABOUT TWO BLOODY HOURS AND THEM SOME. NEXT? A TAPE TAG ON MY OLD LOCK (FROM 2E-22 WHICH I TOOK WITH) AND TWO SIGNS NOTING, IN RED, “LOCK CHANGED 10/14 DO NOT CUT LOCK”. NO DOUBT ONE OF THESE EVENINGS SOME IDIOT WILL BE BY AND JUST CUT THE BLOODY LOCK ANYWAY. IT’S THE NATURE OF THE EVIL, NASTY BASTARDS IN THIS HOLE. BUT FOR NOW, I’VE GOT “ME” IN A LOCKER! – Meanwhile, this evening had good conversation with Ray (17) and George (15). Ray knows the Lower Hudson Valley and Monticello! He drove trucks up that way in the late 90’s. He’s from the Virgin Islands. George was in a shelter in Chester (LaGuardia maybe) and knows Monroe! George is a really young guy of Puerto Rican lineage. (I still have yet to carry a full conversation with 16.) But he, like me, doesn’t eat the food here. I suspect he’s African but I can’t be at all certain. Pleasant thought.) So, Ray and I talked until almost 23h30. George came in a bit “out” and passed-out on the bed. – So, there you have it. The first day of Sukkoth and me? In a shelter. – Oh, I went to shower, George saw me take the kippa off and almost had a fit. “What are your doing?!?” He’d worked for the Monroe Jews (I can’t help but wonder if they took advantage or anything of the sort) and had never seen anybody take a kippa off. It was almost endearing, as I explained that I don’t bathe, swim or sleep in a kippa. – I’ve become quite the spokes-person for “regular, normal, every day Jews! So, the Beit Din can go shove something B’tachat as far as I’m concerned. The bigoted dopes. – Shah-lohm.

Wed. 15 62/31 20h57 5W-101 George is passed out. 16 is dozing. Ray is somewhere in the “Castle”. The bloody pump is running in the construction lot next door but, it’s cal. As I’m catching up her before sign-in. – WHAT A DAY! – (At 20h43 I went to sign-in. At 20h48, I’m back at the bed!) – OK. Last night I set the alarm for 5h15. I was awake at about 2h, 3h45, 4h47… 6h! Slept through the alarm! Up, coffee, piss, brush teeth, shower and smoke (no BM x2 days), dress, out. Got to PIC at 7h20! Of course, we had to deal with dramas, late-comers, folks who didn’t complete forms, had no documents AND MY NAME WASN’T ON THE LIST! (22h showered). THERE WERE 3 OR 4 NOT ON THE LIST. BUT IT JUST MADE ME UNEASY. I WAS TOLD TO PUT MY NAME ON AND SO I DID. ORIENTATION WENT THE WAY MONDAY DID, FOR THE MOST PART. IT’S REALLY AMAZING HOW STUPID SOME PEOPLE CAN BE AND HOW MANY CHHA’S ARE THAT STUPID, AND SLOW! BUT THE WHOLE ORDEAL WAS INFORMATIVE AND PROFESSIONAL AND HOW THOROUGH. PIC REALLY WANTS THEIR PEOPLE TO KNOW EVERYTHING! IT’S GREAT TO BE PART OF AN AGENCY THAT COVERS ITS PEOPLE AND SUPPORTS AND INFORMS THEM! – WELL! BU 17h15 THIS EVENING I WALKED OUT OF THE VNS BLDG. WITH MY I.D. AND A CASE FOR FRIDAY MORNING… SO. OZONE PARK. BUT QUEENS! ONLY 12 HOURS A WEEK BUT “PERM”. AND THIS IS STEP ONE TO GOING BACK HOME! 7,25 HOURS PAID FOR TODAY. A CASE. I’M WORKING AGAIN! AND WORKING TOWARD GOING HOME TO ROCKAWAY! NOW I JUST NEED TO KEEP MY FOCUS ON NOTHING ELSE BUT ME!!!!! – My biggest concern right now is having car-fare to get to work. I should be getting paid, but it’ll be coming in a cheque. The cheque will be going to B116th and that’s as good as nothing. ADP won’t send me the information for Direct Deposit so there’s now way I’ll be able to buy my transport. You see? Fate. Life. Creation. All Existence. Constantly fighting against me, against me, against me. I’ve got 15$ to budget. 16$ just to get to and from work. Typical. – But for tonight, I can’t find a fucking case-worker who knows shit about anything around here. My meal ticket is good until tomorrow. The floor is calm. I’ve smoked and showered. The day is closed!

Thu. 16 63/32 9h13 Centre Hall 5th floor – I’ve been sitting her for 45 minutes waiting for some allegedly super-tall woman named “Miss Reed/Reid/Read/Reade/What-the-fuck” to appear from down the hall. The morons who get paid in this anus of creation constantly amaze. They’re excellent at walking up and down halls, carrying papers of all sorts, popping in and out of doors, appearing to be either terribly busy or seriously perplexed. But, the fact is, they serve no purpose, have no purpose, and simply should have been abortions. I asked for Ms. R.&c. “If you sit right there (where I am) you’ll see a tall woman come out of a door down the hall.” 45 minutes. No “tall” woman. I asked about a Mr. James. 4-12. Night supervisor. But does anybody know if he’s on tonight? Nope. Not one functioning brain cell. I’ve no patience anymore. Slugs, earthworms, general vermin, each, singularly, possess greater intelligence than the mass on the payroll here. And the floor goes empty and quiet… save those who wander in their miasma. – Mean-while, I can’t kick the cold completely. Nose won’t drain and coughing hurts and is productive. I’m not alone with the symptoms. I keep my focus on me and going home. ROCKAWAY! – 9h27 No “tall woman” has appeared and I must get to PIC to correct m y mailing addresse. Once more shot for “Miss R&c.” and I’m out of this shit-hole. – 10h52 MMLib. Arr’d 10h30. Waiting for a computer. This shit-head from 2E, the “dope addicts’” room, is here. It’s a day for the shelter to be out on the streets. But it’s hot and muggy. I’m tired and sweaty. And somebody re-booted the PC! – OK. Done. No e-mails other than an on-going argument with my ADP Payroll card and I’m in no good mood for that this morning. 11h43 – THIS MORNING, IT FINALLY HAPPENED! MY ENDS LOOSENED AND I GOT SHARP.-TONED WITH THIS BITCH IN THE COSIAL WORKERS’ OFFICE ON THE 5TH FLOOR. SHE HAD THE BLOODY AUDACITY TO ASKE ME WHAT I NEED! I DON’T BLOODY KNOW, OTHER THAN AN UP-DATED MEAL TICKET. AND I ONLY NEED THAT TO GET INTO THE FUCKING BED! MORON! SHE FOUND MY NAME ON SOME HIDDEN LIST, TOLD ME TO SIGN ON SOME SHIT LIST TAPED TO THE WALL IN THE HALL AND “HAVE A SEAT”. I’VE ALREADY HAD A SEAT. TWO SEATS. I HAVE THINGS TO ATTEND TO. SO I PUT MY NAME ON THE LIST AND LEFT. AT 9h30. WHAT A BUNCH OF DOUCHE BAGS! – As I crossed 31st at 1st and 2nd, I ran into that guy who has reminded me so much of Walter Suarez. He was verbally attacked by the same bitch and all he needed was some direction! He told me he’d gone for a walk to calm down! What kind of bull-shit must we deal with in that place? What? If I could learn where the salaried of the staff are coming from I’d simply send a few choice works and-well-nothing would come of it. The entire lineage is probably shit. – So, at PIC the addresse is in. Of course, in this day of rapid technology, the change “might” get in this week or next week. I was kind. I was pleasant. I simply thanked and left, kindly, came here. From here? Lunch, somewhere. Probably back at the river. Then? Back to the 5th floor to… sketch, read, write., take a seat, wait, wait, wait (how great! The pen ran out of ink!) From “waiting” too much!) “Ms.R&c” is supervisor 8-18h. Mr. James is supervisor 16-24h. I have to be out, in whites, tomorrow morning, 6h30/7h. So today? I’ll just be an annoyance by me presence. – 14h30 Riverside. I’ve just eaten. The usual: 3 dinner rolls with cream cheese, 2 yoghurts, and bottled coffee. But today, 2 chocolate puddings too! And my bowels are now awake. – It’s extremely warm. The sun is hot. Light breeze. Humid. Overcast. Looks like rain. I’m exhausted. Congested. So much in the chest. It’s so peaceful. I’d really just love to nap but don’t dare to. – I keep thinking: Margot, Rabbi Lewis. How the storey of my presence and departure must read, according to them. Cyndi, John, Joe. What, if anything, they’ve said in front of Michael and Sarah. I think of how they’d be so pleased to know I’m in the shelter. 1 pair of pants and boots. All of them, so very pleased. – I’m not looking forward to going back to the shelter and sitting there. But I must. I wonder if they haven’t already gone into the locker and removed everything…. Including my whites for work tomorrow. It would be typical of that place to do so. Well. One more smoke and “into the fire”. – 16h09 THIS HAS TO BE DOCUMENTED! THERE WERE 5 NAMES ON THIS MORNING’S LIST WHEN I GOT BACK AT ABOUT 15h15. I SIGNED AGAIN, CAME TO HE ROOM, PUT MUTHINGS IN THE LOCEKER AND WENT BACK TO THE OFFICE. SO THE DAMNED AFRICAINNE TELLS ME THAT SHE NOTED MY RECORDS “CLIENT SIGNED AND LEFT”. THEN SHE TELLS ME THAT MY CASE WORKER, MS. SIMMONS, HAS CALLED TOSAY SHE WILL BE OUT SICK FOR A FEW DAYS AND MR. JAMES WILL NTO BE HERE TONIGHT. SO! THE WROLD CAN GUESS WHO’LL BE GETTING FUCKED. AGAIN, AT ANY MOMENT. THEN MS. NO-IDENTIFICATION TELLS EM TO COME SATURDAY, 10h “BRRRING PEPPEZ” TO SHOW WHO I WORK FOR AND WHAT “OW-WEZ”. “YOU COME FRRRAHM DEE SEVENT FLOW’WAY. DEE SISTEM EEZ DEEFERRRENT HEE-YUH. YOU DIDN’T ASK THE RRRIGHT QUESCHUNZ.” OH, I’M TERRIBLY SOH-RRR-EE. PLEASE FUCK ME. IF THIS SHIT ISN’T EXPERIENCED FIRST HAND, IT’S UNBELIEVABLE! – And so, my meal ticket is no good after tonight. There’s no one to give me a new one. I still don’t know “DEE SISTEM” but my socks are washed, hanging on the head rail of the bed, I’m tired, will go for a smoke some-where after a brief shut-eye. – Brief? I woke at 18h32! And I could use more sleep. Well, tonight. Meanwhile, the armpits of my t-shirt are “ageing”. I need to figure a way to ash and hang this stuff. Hopefully, I’ll have the weekend. – (Fri. 17h27) Here’s how “DEE SISTEM” works: I went to sign-in, told Santiago the situation about the meal ticket. “You have to see somebody across the hall.” Across the hall I go. 2 people sitting in their respective cubicles. One, shoving food in his mouth, messy looking like she was about to vomit something as a man seated beside her desk is completing some form. I wait quietly. Mr. looks up at me. I apologise for disturbing his repast. He’s obviously annoyed. I tell him I was referred. Missy asks, snappedly “What do you want?” I tell her I need my meal ticket extended 2 days per Mrs. What-ever who is filling in for Ms. Simmons. “Oh I can’t do that!” “Well, could you tell me who can?” “Lemme see wachoo got.” I hand her my meal ticket, upon which, she scribbles “10/18/08” and something slightly resembling “402” and pushes it across her desk at me. I thank her and depart. Such is another moment dealing with those employed by DHS. – Later this evening, I get into a chat in the hall with Ray-17 and Kendall and another guy from the floor. Kendall has a saving sense of humour about being here and says “I have to call my travel agent because this surely isn’t the vacation package I booked.” We all get a laugh and continue to talk about what it takes to service this place. I hear the shelter gets 100$/day/person here. As we discuss, 3.000$/month to keep us here. It would be cheaper to give us 1 or 2.000/month toward our rent and help us get on with out lives in dignity. Likewise, the position of the case-worker is to help us get out of here and return to living successfully. If they do, they’ve done their job. However, if a person gets fed-up and walks out, s\essentially returning to homelessness, the official records only indicate that he’s not in the shelter and the implications is that DHS has been a success. So, there we have the … excuse me… DEE SISTEM! Leave and go home? They’re happy. Lave and go homeless? They’re happy. The 100$/day? There’s 2000 waiting for your bed even as you sleep in it. Nobody here (wanted?) you before you arrived and nobody will miss you when you go. Period. – And so, discussion and education done, I took a hot shower and smoke and by about 23h30, lights out.

Fri. 17 64/33 8h13 WELL! Last night showed me why I’m here and why I should be, at least, partly thankful: EVER SO COLD! 2 blankets doubled and still COLD. So, I must remember the nights at 19 City Terrace North when it was so cold I had headache and my bones felt brittle and I got the night-marish sinus infection. I must remember that here, total strangers can treat me disrespectfully but at City Terrace North, my own siblings did so. Here, I’m transferred from bed to bed. There? I was thrown completely out. Family; it means absolutely nothing. – So. The day: RUSH. STOP! Up at 5h30. Prepare. Shower. Dress. GO! By 7h06 I was on the Pelham to Union Sq. Canarsie train. Broadway Junction. Lefferts train. 8h15, I wasn’t sure where to get the Q10 so I walked round the block and got an empty bus. Of course it was empty. It wasn’t going the full route and so, about 4 stops, I was at Rock. Blvd., still uncertain of distance. Ah. One block down, 3 over. Wrong direction. Asked. Other direction. There it was, right on the corner. A relatively short walk from where I’d started. 8h27! Early. Another walk would the block and… The client’s daughter answered the door. She’d told the agency she wanted AFTERNOON! Mary (daughter) didn’t want me to stay! I’m in whites. It’s cold. I’ve no-where to go. My carfare’s limited. I asked to call the agency from their hone. She agreed. Brother (Steve?) was asleep in the living-room. She had to wake him so I could use the phone. I called Kristen, told her of the change in hours. She OK’ed and said she’ll try to get me a morning client and pay me for my “travel time”, what-ever that might be. I’ll find out when I receive it. Then, I was invited to coffee. Come to learn, Steve is quite a history buff. The family is from Austria-Hungary. German is spoken. We talked for quite a while. I met “Honey”, their Rottweiler. Precious dog. Affectionate. The kicker? Maria is the VNS. I’d met her one day on the peninsula. She covers Rosario’s patients there… meaning… a connection with the Albert Green farce! I’m nervous about the stories that may have or might circulate about me because of that. I’ll need to be prepared now. But, I stayed until 10h30, met Mr. T. VERY heavy man, of course. A challenging case, no doubt. – When I left, I timed the walk to the train. 15 minutes. Then walked along Liberty Avenue to Cross Bay. Decided to take the Q53 to the post office (and Waldbaums). It’s an odd thought: This is where Liz C. grew up. All these years later and I’m walking “her” streets. Why didn’t we do this during the time we spent together years ago? Well. We didn’t. That’s all there is to it. – B116th! Back home. Ocean to one side. Bay to the other. Home. Familiar. At the post office NO ADP INFO! Only a card from Beth El announcing another death. The 3rd since I affiliated. I’m saving the cards/announcements. The membership is dying and here I am, unable to pay membership. WORSE… unable to even attend services! I feel empty, lost, angry, bitter. – Waldbaums. 15$ in shopping. THIS should last me about 3 days. Lunch at 11h45. Tribute Park. Tide in. Crisp wind. Calm. Soothing. Comforting. Home. Quick. I decided to return to The City. A miserable choice but no carfare to use for more travel and no change of clothes. So, to Tilden and no Jocelyn. – Broad Channel: 2 guys walk toward me on the platform. I recognize one. He recognizes me. We shook hands. He’s from the shelter! Imagine. Meeting at Broad Channel. We exchange greetings. He and company walk on. I didn’t want to talk with him much anyway. I was leaving home and not in good spirits. – Tried to nap on the trip back. – Looking out the window: The leaves are changing. “My leaves are changing.” A lot of yellow and gold. Spots of deep reds. Summer is gone. I’m gone. I am coming home soon. I’m coming back. This is my home. I love it here. I will NOT be kept away! – By 15h50 I was back in the shelter. Everybody in the room. – When I came in downstairs, the guy from the 7th floor was in the corridor, sitting. (He reminds me of Walter. Someone addressed him as “Jesus”.) We talked about the way we’re treated here; the verbal abuse and such. He did get his business attended to but is still sensitive to the mistreatment. He’s been here a month and a half and has been thinking he’s alone in the confusion, misinformation, absence of information and direction, the abuse. He smiled as we talked. He was relieved. It did my heart great good to see that. I assured him and then told him he has his heart and his mind. I advised he protect them both, this place is designed to attack and destroy both. I suggested: Mothers do their best for their children. Don’ let anybody else destroy a Mother’s work and efforts! He thanks me. No need to, really. It’s why I’m here. – The rest of the evening went along as time does in here. We, of 5W-101 talked. At 21h I signed for my bed. I was the only one at that moment. A sweet, older Black woman sat alone in the office. The radio played. She was most kind and sweet. I appreciated her human-ness. – Back in the room, I prepared for my shower/smoke. After that? Day 64 of homelessness, Day 33 in the shelter… closed. I was bathed. I was on a bed. I was inside.

Sat. 18 65/34 13h54 I’m in the room! With the exception of 2 smokes downstairs, I’ve been inside all day! It’s a bit on the cold side out anyway. So… And, as I write, I’m alone. An odd situation. I should go out. But I’ve no-where to go (on Shabbat), no appropriate clothing (that “mid-season” thing) and no particular drive to go anywhere. The first day in 33/34 that I haven’t been running all day. – I woke at 8h, took my time. A shower. Dressed. Went to see Mc. Uloma Enyi, the case-worker, at 10h05. Today she was relatively polite and took the time to explain a bit more to me. The actuality is that I’m no better off than ever, just that some things are more specific than before: I’m to see me case-worker x2/week – but for now, since my case-worker is out until ? I’m to see Ms. Enyi every (get this) SATURDAY AT 10h (what about my religious services? Hmmmmm?) My meal ticket is now pink and valid 10/18-11/01 but that doesn’t give any guarantee of bed. She kept reminding me of the “temporary” status of all of this. – I’m “mandated” to save 60% of my salary and will need to provide proof – on demand, of course. I’ve a letter to bring to Bellevue Hospital Monday morning (before work, of course) (moron) to apply for Medicaid. A list of “Rights” that mean nothing. A list of responsibilities and warnings. Up to this morning, my file was missing more than it should. So, all (I suppose) is now current. Any difference? No. Of course not. So, that all done, I used the rest of my morning sorting through papers, organizing papers, putting order into my existence, had 2 sandwiches and too much sugar. Right now I’d like to nap. I’d also like to go outside. I can’t decide. I should have washed something. I will, later. It’s just a relief to have the “formal preliminaries” done now. I can breathe a bit while waiting to be fucked the next time. – Oh. And on one of the forms “Target” date to be tossed: 30 November! – 17h17 Hot soup. I went down for a smoke mostly just to get out. There was an empty styro-container on the window ledge. Remnants of soup visible. I’d just eaten 2 peanut butter and frosting sandwiches. Hot soup. How delicious that would be. Hot food. A hot meal that wouldn’t make me sick. A hot meal served on real plates with real flatware, on a table, in an environment where I could take my time and actually taste the food and enjoy it. How many YEARS has it been? I don’t remember. Now I know why taking a day like this is not good. I’ve been in this room most of the day. I washed an RAA t-shirt and a pair of socks. I’ve had time to think, to ponder, to contemplate, to grow… even more bitter. The bitterness is growing into hatred. And the one person who comes to mind with favour is Tommy. Tommy Burke, who said “It isn’t ideal, but the bus is there.” The only one who made a kind gesture. – I have the jacket from Angel too. Angel Ortega. I need to contact him. I’ve little time on the phone though. It would do me good to see him. But he has family and he works on Sunday so tomorrow is not possible. Well? Today, because I’ am idle, is a dy for slipping into reality. Reality is not a good place to be lately. Thinking is not a good way to pass idle moments. Tomorrow I must get up, get out, get going, keep going, keep moving, figure this out, figure the way out, one way or another. – It’s getting dark in here… again. This place is always dark. I keep thinking of those poor, tortured people who used to be locked in these rooms! I can leave. They could not. The staff then and the staff now. Not at all different. Simply abusive, cold, apathetic. But I can walk out at will. Those before us couldn’t. They creamed aloud. I scream in silence. – The day ended with a great chat with D16. He’s from the Cote d’Ivoire! When he talks of it he’s absolutely energetic. Tells me I could go, get an excellent job, beautiful home and always respect. He showed me photos of his wife and 9 children. One is dead., though I’m not certain of the cause. He speaks French and I’m trying to get the nerve to try mine again. Anyway, he says he’ll give me a name and addresse there if I should ever decide to go. I’ll be received with joy, live and eat free. You see? It’s as we do discuss around here, often; the world is lovely and people are respectful. It’s here that people are worse than shit. But daily, our conversations (amongst most of the residents) turn to mutual respect and basic human dignity. The staff are relentless in their attempts to belittle us. D16 showed me a photos of him with the president of Cote d’Ivoire. His children are there, 2 in England, 1 in The States. The boys are military with degrees. The story is the same through-out this Hell. So we try to support one-another in our efforts to maintain dignity. – It was a hot shower again before sleep. I’m happy I can return to that aspect of my own, normal life: a shower before bed! How wonderful! – George (15) missed sign-in AND bed-check tonight. He’ll lose the bed and the 3 of us will have to deal with what-ever comes. I hope it’s (he’s) clean and quiet and mature! – Late, late, G. returned. Noise, drunk (as usual). Fumbled about and went to bed. I wonder. He’s too young to be here (he was the last to be out of LaGuardia so they put him here) and too young to be so into booze. This place is a lesson. I wonder that the purpose of the lesson is.

Sun. 19 66/35 11h59 Still in the room. Showered. Dressed. 15 and 16 sleeping. 17, gone. I’ve washed the under shorts and a white t-shirt. The green shirt I’d washed yesterday and the socks are dry today! Rolled 6 smokes. Need more. Straightened the locker and am almost ready to get out and to the library. It’s chilly in here though. 21,5deg. But I hear it should barley break the 60’sF. It’s getting too cold for my sweatshirt and corduroy shirt but not quite cold enough for Angel’s jacket. And I keep thinking of all that’s probably lost from the hotel. It hurts. Very deeply. Honestly… why the fuck do I let this keep going? Curiosity? Or that? *17h09 “WE WILL NOT HAVE IN AND OUT ALL DAY”* So I’m back. Went to the library. Got another note to Ashley typed and printed. Spoke for a while, with the woman who admired my sketches and this journal. Very good to talk with her. Then, at about 15h, strolled back. Stopped at Gristede’s for food. Got my coffee and found my cheap cold-cuts. (10cents more than Waldbaums, of course) so I had meat today! – Coming in, the x-ray detected a glass jar! The guard asked me to open my bag. The coffee was in the back-pack. She wanted me to open the grocery bag. I did. She looked in the bag then at the scanner, cleared me. OK! And to think: I’d planned to get the coffee tomorrow. Oh well. It’s done. I came to the empty room, unpacked the groceries and ate 2 pastrami sandwiches, with mustard! 2 apple sauce. I just wish I could remember how it tasted. I ate so damned quickly. And, sure enough, a security guard came in, looking for George. Then Santiago came in, looking for George. And I’m trying to feed myself through it all. But, it’s just a little too cold for the riverside park today. – I had a thought too: it’s getting colder and I have no gloves with me. My Hell is developing very well. – Food done, I got my water bottles filled. The water here has been cloudy the past 2 days. I’m drinking it anyway. Maybe something in it will cause death. That would be delightful. I can hope. Time for a casual smoke. Now, I could have violated house rules and gone to the loo or shower room. But, I went outside. Coming in, one security guard looks at my ticket and ID and comments “IN AND OUT. HUH SIR?” “I came out for a smoke.” “BEST NOT MAKE IT CHAIN SMOKING.” “No. I keep it down: up and down stairs.” Through the door and the next security guard makes the comment: “WE WILL NOTE HAVE IN AND OUT ALL DAY.” “No, we won’t.” I replied quietly, smiling. So, what we WILL have is violations of house rules and fuck security. There’s nothing written prohibiting smoking. It’s just because (I hear) 26 people are supposed to be on security this evening and only 18 showed for work. Poor schmucks. So we, the residents, are expected to be considerate? Not. The tables are turned. Time to return kindness. Dumb fucks. – 17h34 Time for a nap. 16 is here, quietly. I’m a bit fatigued.

Mon. 20 67/36 10h MMLib here I sit, with at least an hour to spend. – 10h59 And I did it reading a book on what to do with a Psych. Major. OK. So this morning, Ms. Enyi gave me carfare. BUT insisted that my employment/assignment sheet have a “letter-head”! Like I want PIC to know I’m in the shelter. Well? Library, Internet, print! Voila! 10 of them. You know? If the shelter wants to play, then let’s play… to my advantage. They won’t give me Saturday to attend service. I’m not eating their food. I’m not getting linens every week. I’m not bugging them for every little thing. I’m running independent. So? So! – 11h04 I’m going to get this show on the road. It’s chilly out today and due to be VERY chilly on Wednesday. I’m in scrubs and white shoes! Ms. Enyi wanted me to apply for Medicaid this morning and tell them I’m unemployed. Right! I dress like this for drama. (I’m not actually a Nurse. I just play one in the local homeless shelter. NEXT!) – 20h42 Castle Bellevue. Left at about 11h30. Took the D to W4 to the A and walked Rockaway Blvd. The stroll is about 25 minutes. The total trip was about 1,5 hours. (Coming back? 1 hour 45 minutes.) When I arrived at Tretter’s, the Physical Therapist was working with a new model Hoyer and couldn’t figure it out. Truth? Neither could I. Oddly, I had been thinking that I wanted to meet the PT and OT. So? 50% done. I’m glad. I want to meet the team, just in case of any “fall-out” from the “Green force”. – Well! Mary and Steve fed me cakes and coffee. Mary asked it it was OK if some weren’t kosher! To go from the anti-Semites of the shelter-staff to this family is such a relief, a blessing. Much needed and so appreciated. And they’re supportive of my presence and their father. My while=-hearted hope is to get the father up and walking with the walker before Thanksgiving… Sincerely. I hope to. For him. For his family.- Left a bit past 16h. Took the Q7 to the A, Bwy. Junction L, Union Square 6. What shit! People! Bodies! Crowds! Congestion! I want OFF of this island (Manhattan) and back to my Peninsula! I hate this city! Honestly. I hate this island! Honestly! Nobody knows how it hurts to go to work so close to “Home” and know that I have to come here at day’s end. It just might kill me after all. – Walking by Lefferts, Linden, Rockaway, I think of Liz. Her childhood neighbourhood and here I’m treading it. Creation is strange and quite fucked-up. – So, back at Castle Bellevue, I shoved a pkg. of Buddig turkey (with mustard – no bread) down my throat, 2 little apple sauces, the rest of the Wheat thins and some chocolate frosting. Breakfast, lunch and dinner. Put on my jeans, washed a white T-shirt for work, chatted with Rey-17 and now, it’s 21h and 21degrees, the 4 are all accounted for. Rey’s somewhere about but George-15 and 16 are here. It’s quiet, save the never-ending drone of the machine in the construction site next door. That must be a violation. But I’m in no mood to piss away my phone time complaining about it, knowing my complaint will amount to nothing and go no where. – Tomorrow? The Medicaid application. Car-fare for Wednesday. Papers and case-workers. General homeless bull-shit. – 22.2, I’ve come from a good, hot, shower. Santiago comes to the room. “Is everybody home?” All 4 us are here. “Everybody’s home.” Home? Well there’s been good talk all evening. George has been here since May! Shit! Rey is reading. 16 is silent and looking through some papers he keeps in his locker. “Home”? Kendall’s in the hall talking jokes. Robert-105 comes by to tell of some guy who keeps showing up in his bed. Tells me he can hook me up in a 2-bed on the other side. “Home”? Maybe. But one thing this place does is turn total strangers into “family”. Most of us are “equal”. Some of us are insane. Others are clinically out to lunch… and dinner. But we’re all in here. And the world is out there. It means something, I suppose. Tonight I wonder how I’ve survived 36 days of this. But, no matter what, I know I’ll miss the guys I’ve met in here. – I saw Jesus earlier. He smiled and greeted me as a friend as we rode the lift. I’ll have to go find him up on 7. – Uloma was right: DEE SUSTEM is different here. All told? Few exceptions, it’s a bit more “human”. – 22.32 Good-night.

Tue. 21 Oct 68/37 7h52 – 5W101 And so begins the steam season it’s up. And I have no clothing appropriate to the coming weather. Again, I’m looking toward bitter cold. Cold. Cold. Cold. I don’t mind the cold. I love the Winter. But not when it rips my meager body apart. And it looks like this year will be the worst of my life. My heavier clothes are out of my reach (if there at all). This will be a “make or break” Winter. Perhaps my lessons will have been learnt, my time served, and on 21.12 I can finally go to that Peace I long for. I can go “Home”… to stay. – But for now, there are chores and tasks and events to be journalled. The sun is shining and I must be out of doors and in the light. I must keep moving. For what reason? Toward what destination? I’ve no idea. But I must move on. And so, I shall. – 8g40 And yet another “Hurry! Rush! Stop! Wait! Have a seat.” Bellevue Hospital. Medicaid Office. Of course, it doesn’t open until 0h. So? So. “Have a seat.” And so I do. What else is there to be said? There’s one person before me. No doubt, the window will open and we shall let the mayhem begin! But I’ve got my car-fare for work covered. That’s my major concern. And yes. As I write, there’s one who waltzes in, believes himself to be above the world an takes a stand at the door, instead of “having a seat”. Humanity. How worthless. How strange. How stupid. – 1845 WELL! A ay to write about and try to remember. To begin: I was at the wrong place at first, cut caught my error on time. Got to a lovely lady at reception who told me that my application from JCCRP was OK. All I needed to do was put it in the basket at the desk and someone would call me (Have a seat). So, I did. It was about 9h30, shortly, a kind voice called my name and yet another kindly woman asked me to take a seat, at her desk. She’d put in my information and was ready. Soft-spoken. Kind. Attentive. Brief. It was an amazing delight to be treated humanely. Of course, the catch” I need to apply for unemployment! Edlyne Bellanton screws my payroll and I’ve got to try for unemployment. You know? If I could know that it wouldn’t track to PIC, I’d do it and let Premier know about the screw-up and my situation in the shelter. But for that, the time will come when I get to the lawyer. Anyway, I’ll either have to go that route of let the application be denied. We’ll see as time goes. – By 10h30 I was feeling rather positive and came back to the Castle Bellevue to deal with the case-workers. Uloma Enyi is off but she said she wanted me to see Ms. Reid (as I see her name) or Mr. Walker. My “ILP” had to be singed and my “official” assignment sheet from PIC had to go on my file. I had it figured: The first part went well, the next would make up for it. – Into the building, up to the 5th floor. After a few moments of waiting at the door to the “Social Workers Office”, I asked a man in the office across the hall (where we sign for our beds and get car-fare) for Ms. Reid or Mr. Walker. “What can I do for you?” he asked. As usual, no introduction or identification. I was talking with Mr. Walker! Legally blind, good spirited, Mr. Walker. I told him about Mr. Enyi and her instructions. He brought me across the hall (from whence I’d waited) opened the dutch door and bade me in. In a cubicle sat a refined-looking woman, thin, striking. An island accent. Soft spoken. Ms. Reid. She asked me to take a seta. Again, gentle, dignified, respectful. She asked me the particulars of my visit. I told her. She got my file. She made quick work of what needed to be done. Organised. Dignified. I was a human-being with human dignity. And when she’d finished, she asked me if I had any questions. I asked about car-fare for tomorrow. I asked if my direction (focusing on my work above all else) was the proper way. She said it is. Then she asked: “Are you fighting with anybody?” (No) “Are you cussing at anybody?” (No) “Are you signing for you bed each night?” (Yes) “Then you’re ‘compliant’. You’re fine. See your case worker each Saturday and good luck.” I thanked her, for the time, the information, the help, the respect. I left, feeling quite food and quite confident… in spite of the fact that she took a copy of my HHA certificate. I don’t know exactly why she felt she needed that. But these people are so preoccupied with paper-work. I suppose my life is too meager. – I went to the library. – Now, en route, at 36th and Park, as I stepped up onto the sidewalk, I missed stepping on a RED DRAGONFLY. YESTERDAY, WAIT, SUNDAY, WALKING DOWN PARK AVE AT ABOUT 35th STREET, OUR OF NO WHERE, A RED DRAGONFLY CAME AND HELD ON TO MY SHIRT FOR A MOMENT OR TWO. IN THE CITY OF NEW YORK, CROWDED STREETS, RED DRAGONFLIES FIND ME… OR, I FIND THEM. OMEN? SIGN? I HOPE THEY HAVE SOME WAY OF KNOWEING HOW I ADMIRE THEM, WITH THEM NO HARM, APPREICATE THEIR PRESENCE IN MY LIFE. RED DRAGONFLIES. IT MADE ME THINK OF THE BLUE-BLACK DRAGONFLY THAT LANDED ON ME AS I SAT AT THE BROOK IN NEW PROSPECT. THEY’RE QUITE BEAUTIFUL, MYSTERIOUS, CHARMING. I WONDER WHY THEY FOUND ME. – At the library, I inquired about the PC’s at the “Job Information” section. A young lady told me that they’re the same time/appointment as those on the 4th floor, but she signed me onto one as a “Guest”. These, on the 2nd floor are limited only to specific tasks. No searches. No e-mail. But, being a “Guest”, I could use these and then go to the 4th floor for my regular Internet. A THIRD KINDNESS IN THE SAME DAY! So I searched Psychology, Counseling, jobs, associations. Then, at about 14h, went to the 4th floor and got an immediate PC! The mouse was malfunctioning so it cut into my usage time. But I got to what I wanted. – Went to the 3rd floor to look for Psychology books. So many are “Unavailable”, Missing/Stolen I’m presuming. – At 15h I was quite hungry and headed across 40th. there, at the corner of 2nd Ave., a Gristede’s. Buddig meats and a package of hamburger rolls, a box of PopTarts, a bottle of coffee. A stroll to the river-side park to eat! – The tide was in. There was enough sun to make it comfortable. A Black man stood at the rail, hands raised, he faced East, he chanted. A cormorant dove and rose with fish in beak. It too was dining. I ate. I spilt coffee on my jeans! But timing was good and it was only small spots. I headed back to get the coffee out quickly. – JUST IN FRONT OF THE SHELTER, SUSAN SCHWARTZ! PREVIOUS PRESIDENT OF THE CONSERVATIVE ON 250th! SHE RECOGNISED ME! SO WE CHATTED… BRIEFLY (THANK GOD). IT WAS GOOD TO SEE HER THOUGH I DID ALL NOT TO MAKE CONNECTION TO THE SHELTER. (NOW I WONDER WHAT DHE’S DO IF SHE KNEW. AH. THE LINE: YOU’LL BE JUST FINE) SHE REMINDED ME THAT THEY’LL BE DANCING WITH THE TORAH TONIGHT. YES. YET ANOTHER CELEBRATION DENED. ANOTHER REASONT TO MAKE THIS SHELTER-SHIT AS SHORT AS POSSIBLE! ANOTHER BUIT TO ADD TO THE BITTERNESS. – In and to the room by 16h30. I decided to wash my jeans instead of “spot washing” the coffee out. As I was washing, Kendall came in: “You’ve GOT to see this! Come with me. Leave that (the jeans).” He brought me into the shower room. It smelled like fresh BM. He told me to look into the stall. I expected to see what I’d seen so many times before down stairs on the 2nd floor: faeces sprayed all over the wall, floor, bowl. But what WAS there truly was remarkable and something I’d never seen before. In the toilet, clean water, and completely intact (probably the most remarkable aspect), a STOOL! It had to be approx.45cm long and, at the widest, approx.35cm around! Of course, those who saw it had many jokes to make. But I immediately thought of how that stayed in somebody’s bowels and how it could have possible passed intact! The only thing I could logically presume is that there is, or, at least was, someone there who is into serious fisting! The anus/rectum had to be so stretched to permit that circumference to pass… intact. Well, as I say, the jokes continued until, at some point, the stool was removed, by someone, somehow. Fortunately, the removal happened before I got there to do it. I’d gotten gloves and apron ready to go but when I arrived to do the job, it was done. Still, it deserves mention simply on medical and biological merits. Not to mention: the things you see in the shelter! – And so the evening went by. George, Rey and I discussed the philosophies of shelter living. I told George about my trepidations on the first and second nights. We joked about “being in Bellevue”. George said “But it’s getting better now. Right?” I replied “Worse!” jokingly referring to the oddities and insanities. But the truth of the matter is: Here, on this floor, the loo, the showers, the halls, to room… all are kept quite clean. Most guys are asleep (or, at least quiet) by 22h30. My inability to call asleep and remain asleep is my own problem. Over-all, considering the whole situation, it’s not too bad. It is, after and above all else, giving me the opportunity to re-start my life. I can focus on employment, money, getting on my feet. And there’s just enough pressure and distress to keep from becoming “comfortable”. – Once note: Rey tells me that clothing is there as well. I need a referral from my case-worker but I can get under-wear, shirts, trousers, jacket! And so, with the coming cold, I will! Meanwhile, I NEED to post this recent letter to Ashley. – Well. My jeans are washed. Second time in 68 days. What have I become?

Wed.22. 10h30 69/38 MMLib – Up at 6h30. fumbled about during morning routine. No particular rush. Had to be at PIC to give Ada the “lease” and then? Ah hah! A message on the phone! RHAS! They’re just waiting for the finger print report. But! Hey! I’ve been thinking of them and wondering. So, this is good news and the message said all else is fine! And so, out the door I went. Inside we had STEAM. Outside I learnt, it’s 45F. I didn’t wear the jacket from Angel. It’s chilly. At PIC, Ada was a doll. Remembered me by sight. Actually apologized for the inconvenience. I told her I had to come into The City for MCY anyway. Well! So she did the photocopy and off I went. – At 34th and Madison, there was Jesus (7th floor)! He wanders about all day! Poor guy! He’s got the limp and they still force him out. I told him to hide-away in the library. He hadn’t know about it! Once again, my past has prepped me for my present. What then is my present preparing me for in future? I don’t know that I want to know. – I came here, for an immediate appointment. ADP finally sends me the info for Direct Deposit! I’m settled on a new MCU account which I’ll need if PIC and RHAS send cheques. Oh well, Life… fucked up. – Got a day and a half of this journal onto the new blog. It’s going to take time because I’m writing small and this is being writing on page 87 already. Still, it’s going to be fun, reading and recounting as I go. So… – 10h44 Time to move out, move on, move along, get to work. I’ve got 2$ to put on the Metro-Card which will cover today and Friday work. 7$ in the backpack. 4$ coming for carfare tonight. Another 4 on Thursday. MCY tomorrow. 2 pay-cheques pending. All is certainly not perfect. But I have no family and no friends. So THAT’S a reason to be cheerful today. – Out! Into the sunshine and crisp morning air! – (On Thurs.23.10 at 11h06 MMLib) I’d finished the entry and was preparing to leave when I spotted George(15) making a reservation for the computer! How odd it seems to meet guys from the shelter, out on the streets and now, in the library! Ah the ways in which people get to know people in this city. So we spoke briefly and were on our respective ways. NYC. – I took the D to get tot work. Put 2$ on the MetroCard, giving me car-fare to cover this week in full. As I walked the tunnel to the train, a guy was singing: THE FIRST TIME EVER I SAW YOUR FACE”. The (my thoughts are so scrambled as I think about this. Every thought crashes into the next!), Dennis Nixon. The blue VW. 208. Woodcock Mtn. Rd. Mister G’s. Downing Park. Pain. Memories. Melancholia. Sadness. Depression. Anxiety. Roberta Flack. My music. Gone. So much… gone. The next tune began… “NEITHER ONE OF US WANTS TO BE THE FIRST TO SAY GOOD-BYE”! I kept walking but my entire body went numb! I actually had to think, to concentrate on moving, walking. The grip of depression was horrific! Had I the opportunity, I’d have simply shut-down at that moment, sat quietly and died. It was a most frightening and amazing experience. Just a depressing over-load of darkness. But, at the top of the stairs, I managed to pull a bit together and make it to the train. – Arrived at Rock. Blvd. at noon! An hour to spare! I walked. Stopped at a deli. Cheese Danish, croissant, Nutriment. 4$ off my Food Stamps. I was starving! Walked slowly and ate. Still, I arrived at the client’s at 12h40! When I’m in no rush, time passes so slowly. – It was an OK 3 hours at work. Their Hoyer was replaced but Mr. T. is so heavy, we had complications. Coffee and cakes were served. How they spoil me. One brother confided: We like you. You work very well with my father. We’re thinking of asking for more hours for you. Maybe 8 each day. That could be good or bad. I’ll have to make the very best of it, no matter what. It will be much needed income! – At 16h07 I left the house. Q7 to the train and back to Hell. It was ever so cold! – Back at the shelter, there was steam! A welcome relief! I washed my “hoodie” and the wash water was disgusting! But little by little, everything is getting washed. (Of course, the forecast for the week-end is RAIN!) – Go to talking with George. He reads Robert Frost, Steinbeck, Steven King. Read “Anna Karenina”! Even some Tolstoy! It just goes to show how we can’t “presume”. – As the evening went, I shoved 2 cold-cuts sandwiches down and waited to sign in. Rumour: 50 people waiting for beds. NO margin for screw-ups tonight! At about 21h45 I signed-in. At about 22h, security came for me. I hadn’t requested my car-fare and it was noticed! The case-worker (Stinson? I’ll have to check that to be accurate) was SO pleasant about it. And I was so grateful! I’m depending on that car-fare to help me get on my feet! When I told George he said “They don’t ever do that, come get you for something like that.” Maybe this is a good omen… things will change and all will be better… soon. – A hot shower. A warm bed. Another day… done.

Thu.23.11h51 70/39 MMlib Continuing.. WOW! Did I ever sleep last night! Woke at almost 7h! The hour I’m to be “on the train to work”. My “hoodie” wasn’t completely dry but enough to wear. Not having access to weather reports, and the steam being up, I’ve no idea what to wear out-side. – Shower, half a smoke. Dress. My stomach/bowels are bothering me lately. Cramps last night and the urge to “go” this morning. – A WALK! Down to MCU at Lafayette, by the Centre Street court buildings. The horrors begin: Not only was the morning temperature about 2C, when the nice lady at MCU put in my social, a notice came up! “NSF activity” from Ridgewood Banque (formerly City and Suburban)). NO ACCOUNT OPENED TODAY! Long story short (it’s noon now, I’m hungry. Haven’t been on-line. Need to contact the banquet. Need a nap too.), I settled the issue at hand quietly and began the walk from 2 Lafayette up to the library. It’s cold out! I’m hungry and tired. My thermometer registered 11deg. When I got in. So! As it gets colder, it gets tougher all round. – So now I have car-fare for tomorrow. 5$ for MCU and 6$ in the wallet. Tonight: car-fare for tomorrow. 10$ in the wallet. One moment at a time. I need more cigarettes too! But what I’d like most, is a nap! – 17h14 Back at the Castle where my clock tells me it’s 26deg but if feels like 36deg! Can’t say they’re trying to freeze us out. – When I got in at about 15h45, G. and 16 were both in. G. was shaving and getting ready to go out. 16 was snoozing. I washed my corduroy shirt and an RAA t-shirt, ate my 2 meat sandwiches and the rest of the chocolate frosting on the last 2 rolls. Food’s gone and only 60-something $ left on FS. I’d gotten a new pouch of tobacco and rolled 5 for tomorrow and a few to “quick draw” in the loo. (Less tobacco in those.) G. left. The place has gone quiet, save the TV next door and 16’s sneezes. – I’m still worked-up about MCU. I spent 45 minutes on-line searching for contacts for Chex System, Ridgewood Savings. I don’t know if I got through to Chex Systems but everything else bounced back. I’ll have to fight this one slowly. MAN IT! – Rick came by to remind me it’s dinner time. Since my bowels aren’t all too good, maybe I should try a meal. But not tonight. I want to get to the P.O. tomorrow before work. – I need a hair-cut, a beard trim, shave, manicure, pedicure. I have the energy for… a nap. – Took one! Until Rey came in. I woke at 19h18! Dreamt I was talking a Nursing final exam. Don’t remember much more than that. The question I woke on: “What is 1917? 19/17.” “What do we call that?” And my answer, that I was waiting to give was “A greater possibility of one out-come over another.” Which, in the dream, I was sure, was right. Hey! It was a dream. The teacher liked me… and he was “Hot”. – Now, if all the little morons in the loo would leave so I could grab a “quick draw”. – Oh oh oh! As I’m walking back here this afternoon, I cross 34th Street at 3rd Ave. right in front of the QM Express bus to FAR ROCKAWAY B.21! Don’t it make you wanna go home?

Fri.24.19h40 71/40! At the Castle. All’s calm. 16’s spewing viruses with unabashed sneezes and we’re the only 2 in. 26deg again an it feels like 36deg. – I’m not certain what time it was when I left this morning (and oh, I didn’t want to get out of bed). It was a bit past 8h. The Canarsie train stopped at Wyckoff again. The next train went through to the Junction. I got to The Rock by 10h30! At the P.O., 2 cards from the synagogue and my ADP statement. The balance? Almost 40$ OVER-DRAWN! ANOTHER 5$ “PURCHASE/CHASBACK”! I’m bloody-well fed-up! I HAVE to clear the banquet records NOW! I’m not going to have THIS shit screw me too. It figures. I got the card from Premier. That place means no good at all! – And so, being on a “Pay Per Ride” card… I bought an envelope and posted a letter to Ashley. This one tells the whole saga, gives her an addresse and phone to contact me. Now I get to the news that EVERYTHING in ALL of my life is GONE! What will I do? I just don’t know. I should have been dead already. Maybe THIS Winter. Maybe. So I added a hand-printed “Thank You” to her and how I miss Rockaway, dropped it in the slot and headed for the Q53. Bought “The Wave” for the first time in ages, got the bus to Rockaway Blvd. Looped back to Sutter and a C-Town for some yoghurt and snacks for here. Ate the 2 yoghurts as I walked. That’s how hungry I was! Good thing I carry the plastic flat-ware all the time. – Even with the casual walking, I was at Rock.Blvd. and 115th Ave. at 11h15! Luckily there’s a place to sit, and so I did. Had 2 PopTarts and 2 puddings, read the paper, smoked a cigarette and waited for the time to pass. – Was at my patient’s at 12h45. Now this was an easy day. Mitch (OT) and PT came. In 3 hours with them there, I had little to do. So I encouraged, observed, at, had coffee. 16h came quickly. – As I waited for the bus to the train, the skies darkened. The forecast for tomorrow and Sunday is rain. In spite of not getting the “Thurs” car-fare this week, I’m planning on being at Tilden and PHC on Sunday! Rain or not! – The trip back here served its purpose very well: This morning the bay was remarkable calm, beautiful, amazing. The air was delightfully clean and comfortable. It was a post-card /calendar photo day. Coming into The City screws your spirit what, with all the idiots in the way, the traffic, the noise, congestion, yelling, general stupidity. I MUST get AWAY from here! – I got in after the usual queue of regulars and idiots, and new-comers, to a furnace! This place is so warm it’s unhealthy. Washed socks, teal scrub-top, white T-shirt. (The scrubs top is dry already. That’s how hot it is in here!) Kendall and I had a discussion on why we’re in the shelter. A guy from down the hall came by in black Muslim attire. By this point, the discussion with Kendall dropped into religion. When he asked “Can we all just get along?” the Muslim guy simply said “Yes.” It touched me deeply. – Next line of business? Food! I shoved 2 peanut-butter sandwiches down my throat. I keep remembering how I did the same thing at Ahlena’s, Cyndi’s, Jim’s and Margot’s. I haven’t actually tasted food in almost SIX YEARS! A bloody fucking disgusting shame, that. Always something or someone to keep me from eating. Food! Is it any wonder I can’t reach a healthy weight? Well, I rolled a few cigarettes. Tried a “quick draw”. I’d rolled it so tight it was a waste. – And so, this brings me to 20h25, a quiet floor as we approach “sign in”. 26,5deg. I need a haircut, beard trim, shave, manicure, pedicure, over-haul. No George or Rey. Just me, 16 and his “funk”. Why these people won’t shower is something I’ll never understand. But, as long as I’m clean and their funk doesn’t stick to me… – George squeaked in at 22h tonight. A guy came round not 10 minutes before to do bed-check. Rey had to bend the truth a bit when asked if G. was here. I just don’t know how he (G.) gets away with coming in way past sign-in… and drunk on top of it! OK. So he’s the youngest on the floor. Maybe everybody has a little “parental” thing happening. But even as Rey told him tonight, he needs to start showing some responsibility. The weather’s turning colder and more guys are looking for shelter. This place will turn over his bed-and we’ll have to put up with something new. Yes. It’s all selfish. But, it’s fact.

Sat.25.16h32 72/41 “IF YOU CAN BECOME COMPLACENT BEING HERE, THERE’S SOMETHING WRONG WITH YOU.” – 17h32 Dancing Queen. George took out his radio. The song came on. He was dancing to it. – It’s 21h. The temperature in here has finally dropped to 26deg. Most of the day it was 29! I spent the entire day in here. Napped for about 3 hours. – George, born January… 1965! Joe’s age! Asked me “How do you fix this?” He meant, him. He’s got dreams/notions of jumping off the Tappan Zee Bridge. This evening, Rey gave him the riot act. G’s under the impression that the world will go his way forever. There’s always been somebody there for him. It’s sad. He looks about 24. here he is, 43. Sad. He had Rey tearing. It’s good to know that there are people who care about others. Me? I’d like to be able to help G. I’m willing. But, truth is: my heart is dead. Once, I’d have wanted to help from the heart. Today, I want to help from the head. Hey! Maybe that’s a lesson I needed! Maybe this is another step toward maturity. I don’t know. That’s the trouble. I just don’t know. Meanwhile, G. went back out at about 20h. Rey told him to be back before 22h. It’s 21h13. No sign of little G. But there’s a cool breeze coming in the window. It’s pouring with rain. A bit of thunder. A bit of lightning. Let it all happen tonight. I’ve got car-fare for Rockaway tomorrow. I’m looking forward to the 16h meeting of the new Writers’ Group. Hoping to see Jocelyn too! – All my clothes are clean. I’m ready to go. – Now? For a smoke and a shower. – A stormy October night… in Bellevue! How “Halloween”!

Sun.26 21h42 73/42 21h42-22h18 Two starts. No notes. Insane evening. Pushed day. To begin (on Monday 10h03 at the MMLib): George lost his bed last night! Truly. “Unassigned”. Out. Gone. At about 1h30 this morning, Operations (my favourite “Lady” from the 0-8h shift) came in and stripped the bed. She apologized for disturbing us. A “Lady” in all respects. Lights out for a few moments and THEN: In comes this skinny, beaded, de-decked and ear-ringed, greying black guy who proceeds to turn the lights on and put his linens on the bed… perfectly… neatly… time-consumingly! This is followed by rattling of plastic bags and some muttering and mumbling… to himself! Suddenly, as I’m thinking he looks neatly dressed and appears clean, the “cloud” covers me. FOUL! SWEET! DISGUSTING! CHOKING ODOUR! He’s nuts and funky! The bed moves. The bags rattle. He leaves, presumable to shower. Not so lucky. He’d put the light off when he left the room, moments later he returned with his stifling funk, the light went on again… and so did his mono/dialogue! More plastic bags. Finally! Light out again… in the darkness “click click”. He’s lit a cigarette. Rey caught it and told him to take it to the bathroom. The guy bolted silently. I had to say something at this point because I was amusing myself with thoughts of murder. “This is gonna be a fun night.” I said aloud. “Thanks to George.” Came Rey’s reply. And soon, too, too soon, Chatter came back, with funk, tossed himself on the bed. I tried covering my nose, mouth, face with my blanket, to block the funk. Nope. Rey used his air freshener. Nope. I got fed-up, pissed off. It was 2h39! I opened the dorm door wider. SOME relief. I drifted to sleep, watching to see if Chatter made any moves toward me of the others. – 7h30 and all are awake. Chatter has managed to cover his feet AND the floor round the bed with power. He dressed, gathered his things, left the corner a mess and disappeared, leaving the rest of us hoping he wouldn’t be back… EVER! – I showered, put on the Dor Chadash T and the blue and white kippa and with Rey and a guy from down the hall, left. Today, for me, is Rockaway! Rey and Co. got the up-town 6 and I went to the down-town. Something must have been off in my head (after the night? Really?) because I had some trouble putting money on the MetroCard. I just forgot how… briefly. A little guy working on the turnstiles told me what I was doing wrong and when I finally got it ,he said “B’seder?” More Hebrew! It’s quite interesting how many people speak some Hebrew these days. So, I got the 6 to UnionSq. Where I got the 4 to Fulton and try for the A which doesn’t stop on the down-town side because it’s running on the F line so I’m supposed to take the up-town A to W4 to change for the down-town A which is what I did after walking up and down 4 different sets of steps trying to get a J train at Fulton only finding locked gates at each potential entrance and no signs to inform us that the J was not available. At about noon, I was walking into T6. PEACE! – Penelope was her usual “fake” (as I’ve learnt) “So glad to see you.” Luckily we didn’t see much of each other while I was there. I didn’t have time to get lunch before arriving (I got off the train at Playland and grabbed the bus from there: to avoid 116th and to get on the bus before my transfer expired). I ate candies and helped myself to coffee – made. With great fortune, Shirl arrived and asked me to help her build her contribution to the RAA Halloween do. I did. Gladly. – In T7, work is full in preparation for the Halloween celebration. Hallways, rooms, mummies, &c. being constructed. Tommy gave me a tour of what it will be when completed. Asked if I’d be there and seemed mildly disappointed when I said I couldn’t. But I enjoyed the tour. – For brief moments, Penelope and I sat on the back porch in the wonderfully warm sun and talked politics. It’s become an effort to talk with her, remembering how she told me to be “scarce” and tried to pin it on Geoff and Tommy. No trust any more. – Well, the day went by too quickly. I attended the first meeting of the new “Writers’” group. No comments now because I had to bold at 17h to get the bus to PHC. – Got to PHC at almost 18h. It was cutting time close! But Joycelyn was busy, dinner had been served so I didn’t get to stay too long. Now, she tells (Joc60) me she has “bags” of clothing for me. Warm things. She mentioned gloves. Wants to get together during the week, out of the hospital to give me what she has. And then she hands me another 20! I’m in need of cash right now, so I accept. But I’m in to her for 60$ at this point. She tells me not to think about it, but I must. – Well, by 18h30 I was on my way to the train. (Jocelyn said that 44th was a dangerous station, better to go to 59th. As I said: one’s as bad or good as the other but 44th is closer.) Stopped at DunkinDonuts for 3 Bavarian crème. Just what I needed ,sugar. Somebody had dropped a lit cigarette, half-smoked, in the empty lot so I finished it (and I wonder why my lungs are so bad). – The sun was gone. Night in Rockaway. Kriste! It hurts to leave there! It’s “Home”. To think that I’d exchanged drawing and painting ideas and hints with Cathy… writing ideas with the Writers’ group… rushed to see Jocelyn. Good times and good people… across good waters. – Back at the Castle Bellevue, the news for the day is: I went to sign for the bed and George’s name is back on 15! How the fuck he does it is anybody’s guess. Yes. We’re happier than all shit that he’s back. But, if there’s any truth to what folks is sayin’, he’s run out of back-up and I son his own. If he pulls shit again, loses his bed or the likes, well, “Junior” will find himself “Homeless” in the shelter. (This morning when we were leaving, he was on a chair, leaned up against a soda machine… sleeping. It was sad but hey! You want to see how fart you can go before getting smacked? Now you know.) – So, the day ended with George coming back to a 29deg room…

Mon. 27.20h30 74/43 20h03 at 5W-101 – 28,5deg 15,16 &18 are here. 17 out in the building some-where. – This morning I got to the MMLib at 8h50 45 minutes on-line and to type a letter to try and clean the “ChexSystem” records so I won’t be collecting pay-cheques that are of less value to me than the paper and ink. – Left at about 10h45. D to W4 to A, Q7 to Lefferts and found a FoodTown in walking distance. A quick 7$ shopping and to work. BUT! A CALL ON THE 646 NUMBER. PIC IS QUESTIONING THE PRIVATE DUTY HOME CARE! SO NOW? COMES THE EFFORT TO DODGE A CONNECTION BACK TO THE COW! WE’LL SEE WHAT WE CAN MUSTER. DID IT BEFORE. DO IT AGAIN! – AND, I’M RUNNING OUT OF TIME ON THE PHONE! – MY LITTLE TOE NAIL IS GETTING EVEN WORSE WITH THE FUNGUS! – It’s just happening again! Creation is trying to slam me. But, work was a delight and Mary served apple straddle and pecan pie and I filled-up on it and coffee. – The train ride back was a horror. Rush hour. – George was here when I arrived. Still is… amazingly. I washed socks and undershorts. Made 3 cream cheese and honey sandwiches. Of course, quickly, hiding, eating rapidly so as not to be discovered. It’s 20h27. I’m waiting to sign in and shower and hoping for some sleep! Tomorrow is “Linens Day”. I need fresh and another blanket (just in case… I’ve got 2, folded to make 4 layers. It would be nice to have 3, unfolded. And I haven’t had fresh linens since the 12th when I got this bed. It’s time. – Ah… a breeze! What a charm! – Oh. This morning? 7h30 through 8h, idiots in the showers! At a time when working people need the showers! Fuuuuuuck! – OK. Anyway… – In an earlier talk with George about Rockaway, he asked me if there’s a place called “Gaston”! He knows somebody out in Rockaway who told him to take the train to Gaston… but on the map, there’s no “Gaston”! So I took out the maps and held a geography lesson. Odd, but it pisses me off that somebody “on the mainland” knows about “my” Gaston, my refuge, my peace and what looks to be my final destiny… one of these days. – So the floor went quiet. I had my shower. A breeze comes by now and again and yet, another day is gone.

Tue.28. 75/44 19h04 MMLib RAIN! THUNDER! LIGHTNING! My jeans are soaked. My shoes are soaked. Well I certainly couldn’t have dry weather all of the time. But my 99-cent poncho came in hand again this morning. – This morning: I SLEPT UNTIL 8h22! After a very restless night. It’s becoming increasingly difficult to fall asleep and stay asleep. I’m not consciously aware of being depressed, but there are the symptoms. And, let’s face it: Depression is long past due. But I got up, took a very small BM, grabbed a quick smoke, brushed my teeth, showered, dressed. I GOT LINENS TODAY! Nasty but clean. Well, as “clean” as can be expected considering from whence they’ve come. – Jolly! I took the table by the window on the 2nd floor. Usually, it remains empty. No. Not thins morning. A group of brats has come to join me. Quiet though they are, they’re seemingly un-aware of my presence. A “class outing” of some sort. – My jeans are now cold and wet, and the rain is falling harder. Lovely day. Surely it will become lovelier as my back goes into spasm. It’s beginning to. The rain is falling. The temperature is falling. Pain will follow. Guaranteed. – 14h10 4th floor. Appointment on PC at 14h30. I’m finally dry. Jut came in from smoke. Imagine? I’ve been in the library all day! How reminiscent of the Newburgh days. Let’s see: 5 years of this “wandering” all day? My stomach is growling, I’m hungry. It’s wet out-side AND COLD! COLD! COLD! It was cold on the 3rd floor, where I spent the morning. It’s a bit warmer here, on the 4th. But my feet are damp and cold. But I’m not OUT on the streets or parks or rivers. Thing for which to be thankful… as if I could be thankful these days. HAH! Well, I can look forward to excessive heat later, back at the Castle Bellevue. And my timing away today should bring me back in at 16h. So? So. – 19h22 C.B. 23deg. All are in. I almost feel for George. He left this morning but was here when I got back at 17h30. I know how it is to be used to being out most of the time and then… grounded. But, there’s “responsibility” and it hits all at some point. – As I wrote, the ONE security guard who has unfailingly treated me like a human-being came by the door and said “How you doing?” She’ll never know how much good she does for someone who needs to be recognized as a human being. If there is any justice any where in ALL of Creation, let it bring her all happiness and contentment. If more people were as she is, this world would be closer to Utopia. – Well, All I’ve left in the larder is 3 buns and some peanut butter. 6$ cash. 40cents Food Stamps. 13 days until more Food Stamps. The meager days are coming and the temperatures are dropping. Here we go. Cold weather and homeless. What I wouldn’t’ give for a drink right about now. – 20h04 The room is full of French! Philipe wanted rolling papers. I detected the accent. Asked where he’s from. Paris! Marde! So now, he and 16 are babbling away. How c’est tou cute la! – My 2 lettres to Ridgewood Savings and ChexSystems are stamped and ready to go! – And, indeed, the French language flowed on into the evening. Had it been Quebecoise, it would have been a sweet tonic. But being “French” from France, it did little to actually lift my spirits. OK. I’ll face that fact” I’m an elitist snob (where the French language is concerned). I happen to prefer “my” dialect. Merci. – Having the envelopes, bought at Jack’s 99-cent store for 1,29$ and remembering the stamps I’ve had I’m happy that my letters will go to the post tomorrow! – Tonight? Try for sleep. I’ve got my car-fare to work tomorrow.

Wed.29 76/45 10h31 MMLib 3rd Fl. Winter was in the air this morning! I could smell it as I crossed 32nd Street at Madison and as I cam across 40th toward 5th? Slush from the skies! I’m wearing the jacket from Angel this morning. What a “save” – Last night, Philipe came back to the room twice, well after 22h30! Friggin frog. So “Parisien” of him to be inconsiderate of all else. So sleep was broken (common). Then, at about 3h a woman came to check for empty bed! The nights are getting cold. The Homeless all seeking shelter. It’s time to keep a wary eye on all. I’ve been “in” long enough to figure: there will be more “strangers about. – Anyway, I got here, to the library, just before 9h. Got my PC appointment and, thankfully, have re-done the pages of my art blog! Somehow, the “originals” ceased to function. So I’m re-building the blog. If possible, I’ll build a duplicate, just in case. Good to have back-ups… PARTICULALRY WHEN I THINK OF HOW ALL OF MY PREVIOUS WORKS, SITES, PHOTOS, JOURNALS, MUSIC, &c ARE GONE, GONE, GONE!!!!! (it was a “first thought of the days” this morning.) So, for now, I’ll focus on re-building what’s left of me, work on some re-invention based on recent events (not pretty) and move along from there. – Right now it’ 10h46. A little book search and to the rails. I’ve no food with and no desire to shop for any today. 12 days til more Food Stamps. Lettuce sea. Eh? – Left the library at about 11h. D to A. Got to Lefferts in the rain. Grabbed the Q10 to Rock.Blvd, 121st. The sun shone! But is was COLD. HT(pt.) was up, looking good but in no condition to do much. Cookies and coffee for 3 hours today. When I left, no rain but breezy and crisp. As I stood, waiting for the bus to the train I thought of how fortunate I am to have this jacket from Angel. Otherwise, I’d have been standing there with the hoodie and cord-shirt, freezing. How Fate threw me a “Good” this time. Grateful? Yes. Yes, I am. – Back at the “home”, I washed 2 towels. I now have 3. There’s something about having towels. If only I could bring the larger one from T6. But washing and drying it here will present problems. – the night was long. George stayed in tonight in spite of his plans to ship out after sign-in. We were up until 23h30, talking. Books. Geography. All manner of topics. He’s really knowledgeable about so very much! – As usual, I had a great deal of difficulty falling asleep.

Thu.30 77/46 9h26 in the Castle. Waiting for the “Clothing Room” to open at 10h. A friggin morning. Up at 7h22. Toilet. Teeth. Shower/smoke. Fire alarm. Mayhem. To Uloma. Sign the register. Wait. Car-fare. She’s pushing about my first paycheque. Mentioned the “60% Savings: and “downstairs”. As if she thinks I’m stupid enough to let THESE IDIOTS in THIS PLACE take MY MONEY! I’ll hold my un-cashed cheque for a month and WALK to work first! I’d given Reid, the supervisor, my assignment sheet… an “original”. It’s in the file. Uloma had it in hand. NOW she wants one with address and phone number! I’m still waiting for some moron here to fuck this job. And, I just KNOW, in my gut, that they will. – Meanwhile, the “security guard” in the hall was directing people here and there. The over-nighters were herded. The rest of us just shook our heads, smiled, laughed. Some of the little idiots in blue shirts do all they can to make themselves appear important while the rest of us find it entertaining. Little laughing-stocks. – I got my car-fare. Made very nice chat with Uloma (she said I’m being “compliant”. How charmingly delightful. Right.) and am now waiting to see what “treasures” are to be discovered in the “Clothing Room”. A sweater and jeans are essential. Shoes/sneakers would be nice but I’m not pushing the Fates. What will be interesting is trying to get back to the room to fetch jacket and back-pack after. We’re not “allowed” to be in the dorm past 9h. (It’s 9h39 and I’m journaling as I stand at the locker.) Well? Here we go… more attempts at degradation… no doubt… – 13h26 MMLib 3rd fl: It’s chilly on the floor. I’ve just spent 45 minutes looking at “no e-mails” and correcting the links on my art portfolio blog. It’s cleaning up nicely now. Let’s hope it doesn’t simply disappear. But at the rate everything else is going, it seems Creation is trying to obliterate me completely. This to shall cease. I will be eradicated and erased. – Got to the “Clothing Room” this morning. I’m now 2pairs of socks, 2 T-shirts, 1 thermal t, 1 scarf, 1 pair of “Ladies” stretch gloves and 2 white cotton boxers ahead. No pants. No shirts. But the woman who was there was magnificently HUMAN! Very sweet. Very pleasant. She told me: if I’m still in the shelter on Thanksgiving (the very thought makes me ill), the Bowery Mission sends a bus to get us, bring us to dinner and they’ll have coats. I’m being thankful for my jacket. I’m exceptionally thankful for this woman and her kind demeanour. – Left with George at about 10h30 or so. Out front of the Castle stood a woman of Hispanic decent. She wanted to know if this (the Castle) was where to go for an “HA Number”. Liz (her name – can’t lead to any food if history proves and prevails) is on an eviction from her place in The Bronx. A guy (Ivan) told her to meet him at 30th and he would help her with “Intake”. She arrived late (Liz). George and I filled her in on what to expect. She was so thankful to us for our “help”. She a CHHA! Making 800$/month. Her rent is 900$. She’s 3k behind. Already blew a “One Shot”. Has a court date for tomorrow morning (in Bronx Housing… M. Doherty! How I remember her with the greatest respect!) tomorrow morning. OSC. I told her wonderful things about Doherty and tried to impress upon her that she should be nice and respectful. I gave her support referrals, she gave George job referrals. We networked in the cold wind. Again, doing the jobs of the “case-workers” and “social workers”. It’s fucking disgusting! I’m doing somebody else’s JOB at no pay! Well, as it ended, I figure I’m due for a mega beating-down for being of any assistance to this woman. Indeed! – Right now, I’m truly hungry. Would like a smoke but have none rolled, will finish my “Tolstoy” and head out of here. I can’t go back to the Castle before 15h so I’ve got 2 hours and 10 minutes to blow away… – 15h08 Getting out of here and on with what remains of the day. – The time went by well occupied. (It’s 18h54 Friday. CB) The woman who’s been so interested in my sketches stopped to chat with me awhile when we left the library. Politics. Obama’s anti-Semitism. The library’s bias against her, personally (says she, because they perceive her as Black. I believe she’s Indo(Pakistani).) As we parted, she asked which direction I was going so she could go opposite. She didn’t want “them” thinking we were collaborating for any reason. “Them”? I don’t know who “them” is/are, and yes, I wonder more about “her” than “them”. Still, she’s well-enough spoken. We’ll see what comes of it in the passing of time. – And so, I opted for a food shop at Gristedes on 40 and 2nd. Buns and Buddig. 8 of each, to last through Saturday. And it all made it through! That and some “Detail” wire brushes to scrub the calluses off my feet. – IMPORTANT NOTE HERE: LETTRES TO CHEXSYSTEM AND RIDGEWOOD SAVINGS POSTED FROM GRAND CENTRAL P.O. – 3 sandwiches for daily meal when I got in. There’ll be no weight gain at this rate. Oddly… Rey tells that he got a meeting with Uloma Enyi, “Miss Reid” and Mr. Walked (case-worker, Asst.Spvsr. & Spvsr.) because they’re concerned about his 5lb. weight loss. I find it strange that not one has noticed that MY name or number doesn’t show up for eating meals here. 46 days and 3 meals and nobody questions? Ah… how “same” my existence. – George rang Liz this evening. She got her ConEd paid, is in her flat. From the joking and laughter, I’m presuming George has found a new “play-mate”. Meanwhile, me? PLAY THIS!

Fri. 31 78/47 19h25 CB Here goes. Up at 5h45. THE SHITS! Brush my teeth. Lie down. Get up. THE SHITS! Take a shower. Get dressed. To Uloma for car-fare. Wait. Wait. Wait. Approx. 8h20, a voucher. Date of trip 10/22. Had to get it corrected. Back. But this was AFTER: following Uloma down to the 3rd floor (Supervisor) because car-fare wasn’t on the 5th floor yet, then back up to the 5th floor because car-fare was en route! And all the while? Me ever so sweet and understanding, patient and compliant. My thought? A bunch of brain-dead, moronic gits! So, I got out of here by something around 9h or later. – Walking toward the library, which opened at 10h this morning (gits?), a “never mind that!” I went directly to Grand Central. THE SHITS! “Bathroom East”, not one stall available. “Bathroom West”, a brief wait. All for very little. But the urgency, the cramps! – Business done, no time for anything else… to HOME! ROCKAWAY! At the P.O. notices for classes at the synagogue which I would have TRULY enjoyed (Kabalah) but can’t. MCU info and application for an account my first cheque from Partners In Care for 66$, 9 hours. I’m missing the previous cheque! Anyway, this one will remain un-reported to this bloody institution until next week. If I’m to keep 60% and “live” on 40%? It leaves me with 26,40$ each week. Carfare, at 12$ right now leaves me 14,40. (22h31 I walked in here this evening to the fucking odour of flatulence! Now! Again!) – NOTE: 60% TO BE SAVED “DOWNSTAIRS”! THESE MONKEY-BASTARD REFUGEES THINK THAT I’LL TURN OVER MY FUCKING INCOME TO THEM TO HOLD? FUCK FUCK FUCK NO! (3h35 on Sat. I’m stilling in a stall on the toilet. 16 is snoring so that justifies the slamming of windows, screens, and yelling from Rey. This fucking place has GOT TO GO!) – OK. So it’s Saturday. 13h09 D18. To finish: I got to the P.O., got on the bus. Got to 121st with time to sit and read the Wave. Got to HT at 12h40. Brother J. begins to tell me that the family sees me as the best of all the home care team, they want to “negotiate” with me to keep me on after the term of my assignment. But, they want more progress. H. won’t co-operate. I don’t’ believe he’s able. But I do what I can with him. Them comes the line “This Jew doesn’t want to he a failure.” I’m not merely a person now. I’m a “Jew”. This bends me a bit out of sorts but I keep in mind, this family isn’t exactly all it could be: 2 grown sons and a grown daughter, living with aged parents. I’m in a shelter, but I’m on my own. Nobody to lean on or fall on. And when I get in the house? H. has shat himself! I’m not on the clock yet but am at work already! M. (the daughter) tells me that the agency has phoned. An eval. She praised me. Yet, as we spoke she said, rather irritatedley, “He comes early and leaves late.” I note it to myself, think of the extra service they derive, consider my own comfort and move on, in the smell of shit and mayhem of trying to clean 310lbs of dead flesh and fat. During my shift I made certain to get old H. up and down and moving. Good show. Finally, 16h04, I clock out and brother J. wants more schmooze. I’m polite and leave. – Miserable train ride back. – I’m out of smokes. The camel jockey in the usual deli ignores me. The next deli down doesn’t have Bugler. I get Top. I’m annoyed, but the day is done and I want to relax, I get to the dorm? FLATULENCE AND ARM PITS! All is reminding me that I must escape! Not that I need reminders. 3 cold cut sandwiches and the candy from M. The daily meal. – Sign-in, bed check. Shower…. Cold, because some moron adjusted the temperature. Some reading. Tanach. I want to find the exact words of the “law” concerning work on Shabbat so I can freely do to the library and freely smoke. George signed in for his bed and headed out for the night. His case-worker, Lipinsky, is covering his absence tonight. Certainly not promoting responsibility. An observation. I need to deal with my own situation. – Lights out by about 23h30. Another day of existing completed.
CONTINUED…