Aug08-Aug09

8539266
WEB-LINK TO: NYC8539266

MONOGRAM: 15 August 2008
NOTES:
Well, at long last,. Here is the day I’ve known would come. True to Life and existence, the world is keeping things difficult. Instead of good, clear weather, I’ll be making my way thought the rain. Alas. Oh well. But the ocean is so calm this morning. A soft way to greet me and hopefully take me away from here.
NOTES

Instead of letting you stand around wondering what happened to bring me here today (where you find me), and letting those who knowingly pushed and shoved me to the end go prancing along as if their lives are still perfect, I’ve decided, this morning, as the mist leaves the Atlantic and the waves almost whisper at the shore, to use this quiet, gentle time to make it all abundantly clear. I am a human-being. In my Mother’s honour, I’ve spent my existence doing everything humanly possible to make the best of every situation and circumstance for everybody else. I did so, very often, to the point of my own distress. I gave when I truly had nothing to give – leaving me empty (pocket and soul). I pushed, my-self to do when physically I truly couldn’t – which is why I’ve been in pain for so long (my back, my hips…). But I never complained or whined because something inside me believed that this is how we, people, should be: We are all here together to help one another. And, in some deluded fashion, I believed that, in the long run, goodness and kindles would return.

I never asked for more than I actually needed. And I never asked until the need was actual. Essentially, my only desire in all of my existence was for a place of shelter where I could wash and rest, and a place where I could be at peace… maybe to pain, draw, write. I could sell my works to those who were willing to pay, and I would earn enough to pay, in turn, for shelter and enough food to get by. That’s it. Oh yes… and then to have enough to help somebody who was in need. After all… that’s what we’re here for: to help one another. (So I’ve believed.)

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NOTES: If you would, please contact the following people to let them know that they’re able to stop shoving now…
Their efforts to get rid of me have ended in success…
CM – MB – EB
NOTES

So, today, this morning, I look out the window of this little room I’ve happily called home, and, with no way to pay the rent due, in spite of having worked to make others as comfortable as possible, giving my all and my everything to them under the auspices of some agency that has, essentially pimped me to the end and to-day, for what-ever reason, decided to not pay me, I’ve decided that this is the absolute limit, the final boundary, the ultimate end to what I can take of the angst and agony and terror and torment of doing for the world only to find that I’ve woken to a day where I have nothing and no-where else to go to except death.

But before I bow-out in what I hope will be a peaceful and dignified manner, causing precious little – if any – inconvenience to others, I just have to note the following items that have been leading to this decision and this event:

Nr.1. The man who sired me in 1954 and then spent the rest of my life letting me know what a burden I was to him.

Nr.2. More recently, my siblings: Cyndi Mack who invited me in to her home, to a corner of an unfinished basement and then, took me for a ride on that sunny Sunday morning to distract me while her husband and my brother Joe packed the remainders of my existence into a U-Haul essentially throwing me out unprepared. Them promising me that she would help me with the storage payments and when I truly needed the help, didn’t bother. Everything, absolutely everything… gone.

NOTES:
For all it’s worth, my heart-felt gratitude goes to Ashley and the people at the Rockaway Park Hotel on B116th for giving me a sense of a real “Home”, and for going the extra lengths I know you went. And to Sean at Baxter’s, for leading me to the Rockaway Park Hotel. Thank you ALL!
NOTES

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Nr.3. My brother John who has a house with space to spare and not once thought to offer a room or a corner of a room when he had and I didn’t.

Nr.4. Margot Baldinger for whom I lifted, fetched, walked, cooked (sometimes), cleaned, listened to, and the rest of it all for about a year and a half, often even when I was in pain (my back and hips) or hungry and thirsty, only to be put out with no funds to speak of and no-where to go, being told: “You can go to a shelter.” To her, I’m only good enough for a shelter, even after all the care I’d provided.

Nr.5. it’s 7.39am I phoned to get the balance on my pay-roll account with Premier Home Health Care Inc., in Kew Gardens (or White Plains). Two dollars and seventy-one cents! I haven’t been paid for all the work done for Albert Green over a 2 week period. He offered shelter and then stabbed me in the heart by concocting some drama and reporting it to Premier. I was suspended from working 4 days, put on probation for 90 days, had no-where to go one night so I slept on the beach… just last week? No, 2 weeks ago. And now, I don’t get paid for my work and my rent is due in 3 hours and 15 minutes… and I don’t have it to pay! So, that bring this to item…

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Nr.6. Edelyne Bellanton of Premier who didn’t put through the time sheets when they should have been processed. I handed then in, in person, so I know the arrived on time. And she had 2 weeks to tell me I wouldn’t get paid but chose to say nothing. So now? THIS IS IT.

I’ve so little remaining of my life now. It’s neatly packed at the Rockaway Park Hotel where everyone’s made me feel like a welcomed guest and I’ve called it “Home” for 6 weeks. I don’t know what to suggest to be done with what I’m leaving behind. Clothes and books mostly. I hope it all doesn’t make trouble for anybody.

But right now, it’s time to go, get out, leave. I’m truly exhausted from 53 years of fighting. It’s time to just go, sit by the sea and I don’t much care what else any more. No place to go and no way to afford changing the situation. How odd: A life-time of doing for others, only to find, in the end, I’m alone with no one to help me in my time of need.