I’ve always been alone on this “Road of Life”. And as my heart broke and I cried into the nothing that surrounded me, nobody cared. And the words of my father come back, over and over again: “He’s not worth it.”
Monday, 9 December 2013: 20.20 – Sorry about storage, I know you are coping, but its still too bad it has to happen.
DIDN’T EVEN BOTHER TO TRY. “FRIEND”.
Sunday, 1 December 2013: 0.32 And the month has arrived. The wind is slamming against the front window of the room so that it sounds as if some-one or some-thing is trying to beat it’s way in. No melodrama, that is exactly how it sounds. How appropriate. This is the first night of my last days. I am tired, exhausted really. On the 11th, I will have nothing left of my entire life-time. The little bit of art-work that I have, will be gone. The writings I wanted to publish, will be gone. Warm clothing, good clothing, most of which was bought at the Goodwill in South Burlington, will be gone. Mementos of good and happy days, will be gone. There’s nothing I can do to stop the auction, and time and efforts have proven to the point of no doubt that I’m just not worth the investment or effort to give help to. More than ever before, this is the time to get the Hell out of this misery. I’m looking forward to leaving. I’ve nothing and nobody left any more. There’s no family. There’s no friends that my presence or non-presence will make any difference to. There’s nothing… truly and honestly nothing. And even to the marrow of my bones, with everything I am right now, I believe that “All” will be much better once I’m out of it. I NEVER should have listened to ANY-body before when there was all that talk about “better life” and “better times” and “I will” this and “I will” that. NEVER! I shouldn’t be typing this tonight. I should be rotting away some-where quiet… at HOME! Well, we live, we learn. And we don’t make the same mistakes. Tonight the winds slam and the temperature, even in this room, is so cold my fingers are all but numb. I don’t deserve to be uncomfortable when I leave this damned world, so I’m just keeping an eye on the weather reports. There are days coming this week when the winds should be gone, the temperatures a little more comfortable. In the meanwhile, I know where I’ll be going HOME, I have a few errands to complete and I can certainly bike through HOME and drop the BDMs so they’ll be waiting for me, chilled nicely, when I arrive. My respite, my reprieve, my departure, my reward… Hah! My “reward”. The one I’ve made for myself, by myself, with myself. Just like when I got thrown out of the house “before he [my father] kills you”. Just like when I moved 100 miles from the place I knew as ‘home’ where I should have been until the age of 21 or finished college. Just like when I left for my first place alone in The Bronx. Like when I slept in the car on back roads or rest areas. Just like when I walked out to the dunes. Just like when I went into the Shelter. Just like the morning I boarded the plane for Burlington, Vermont. Alone… my-self. Nobody to talk with about anything that was happening. And nobody to offer a hand for support. Nobody. So, same thing now: leave the damned world… alone. Not in self-pity nor depression. Just leave, get the fuck out and away… AWAY! from it ALL. To THE peace… THE REAL Peace. To and for me it will be THE REAL PEACE… to the rest of the world, whether they know it or not, things will now get “better”, not just different, but nobody will quite know why… Because, over all, my being here or not makes no difference what-so-ever. And have I ever been shown that. But hell-all: where-ever I’ve ever gone through-out my life-time, I tried to “fix” things, make things better. I DO believe I’ve succeeded in that respect. Well folks? Now it’s time you learned to do it for your-selves because come the first OK day… you can all fuck-off because I won’t “be” and won’t care at all… THANK GOD! – Now, time to get under the un-finished afghan, in my sweat pants, sweat shirt, hooded sweat shirt, and socks… This room is BITTER tonight… And time for a bit of a rest. Come the day-light I have bread to make and a trip on the bike. Lyle’s sister and brother-in-law will be here at some hour. I’m looking forward to missing their get-together dinner. I’m prayerfully hopeful that I’ll be out on the dirt roads whilst they eat. It’s time for me to stop taking in nourishment… I want NOTHING to interfere with my departure. My martinis will go down, stay down, rush through my now-emaciated body and… AT LAST!
8.35 Just back from a smoke… having just awakened… from a
DREAM:I was in a studio, an art studio, small, un-pretentious, in a most rural setting. I was painting, working on a project, a picture. The day was over-cast, rain/snow, Wintery. I was feeling rather down because I had had words with… ZURI! (We were together in this dream.) A phone rang. I answered. It was Zuri! He was at home, working. I knew this in the dream. He was working on a textile design. We had had an argument of some kind, a serious argument for some reason (I don’t know what the argument was, but we had had one.) He sounded stoned, terrible, his words were slurred (but I don’t remember exactly what he said to me now). I listened to him for a bit, he didn’t say very much, and what he did say was in a low voice and just mumbled, slurred. I asked “Are you OK?” and he replied “Oh I’m fine.” But he repeated and repeated it, more like “woe-ah-m-fine, woe-ah-m-fine,,, woe-ah-m-fine, woe-ah-m-fine… woe-ah-m-fine, woe-ah-m-fine…” It was similar to George Pacheco, D15, from the Shelter. (Oddly, I thought this in the dream and it stuck with me when I went down for a smoke this morning… What a strange combination of people… George and Zur.) I got up from the table I was working at and walked to the window. Looking out, I focused on the lawn. There was so much water on the ground that it had formed little brooks in the indentations in the ground, as though a great amount of snow had melted, rain had fallen and was soaking the ground way past the saturation point. I thought of how terribly wet it was out there, how soft the ground, how difficult it would be to walk on it, how feet would sink into the mud, and I listened to Zur telling me “woe-ah-m-fine, woe-ah-m-fine… woe-ah-m-fine, woe-ah-m-fine…” Then, suddenly, as will happen in a dream, I saw a note, typed or printed, on a half-sheet of paper. The paper was a parchment-like beige/brown. Several lines of words were written on the paper, but the last line, the only line I can remember from the dream read “You are a good god good friend.” I thought (in the dream) that he knew he was stoned and that there were words he wanted to say to me but, being afraid he’d forget something, he’d put the words on paper to he could read them through. Or, (again, I thought int he dream) it was a note he was going to give to me or at last meant for me to see. And I woke.
[Zur Atzmon, born on May 12, 1950, died on June 23, 2006. Us: 1980-83. Image:http://www.vivagarcia.com/roni2.htm VERONICA PIASTUCH]
Slept with the un-finished afghan on the bed last night and woke, quite warm and comfortable. I thought I might make a loaf of bread for tonight’s dinner this morning before leaving for Richford. (Tonight’s dinner is to be pork. I still have this aversion to pork because it doesn’t agree with me and because, well, it’s pork. I suppose it doesn’t make any difference any more, not at this point in time, in my “life”.) I want to be out of here by 10.00. According to the weather fore-cast, the winds should be down (they’re not blowing right now), and what-ever winds there are should be out of the South. Tomorrow they’ll be out of the North again. The temperatures are supposed to be around 1° at some point, or the chill-factor should be at about that. Not too bad. – The pellet stove went out over night and now needs more. It’s a bit too early to wake the house with the sound of that. Yet, it’s going to be needed in very short order. – I look like shit, having not showered for a couple of days and having slept with the hood on last night. But all considered… it doesn’t make any matter at all. Nothing does any more, really. Nothing does. We’re into “days”… – Right now, it’s over-cast, as it was in the dream. – I have to check to see if Food Stamps were posted to the card. I’m doubting it. – I want to put a few more songs on the iPod before leaving. Music, always music. I suppose some things will never change. – Whilst I was having my cigarette just now (I’m down to 2 today) I thought of the present situation. I’m “helpless” right now. Storage will be gone in a couple of days and I’m actually “helpless” to do anything at all about any of it. That’s the issue. That’s the trouble. That’s the killer. I’m “helpless”… there isn’t a damned thing I can do to stop the loss… nothing I can do to catch me before I plummet. “Helpless”. – Not feeling well this morning. There’s a ball of fire in my gut. That’s what it feels like… a ball of flame. Not in the lower part, but precisely where the stomach is. A ball of burning fire. And I’m just a bit “off”… It was quite an effort to make it down and then back up the stairs just now. And when I came in from my smoke, the thought: Today I go to say “Good-bye” to Richford. – The Middle Road will be muddy this morning. The snows are melting and the old dirt road will be muddy. There will be water, slush and mud along the roads. It’s going to be another tough day for this travel. But… over all, and all considered and done… nothing makes any difference. I’ll go (if there’s anything on the card), get my smokes and something to eat (little 1,49$ pies, PopTarts, a bottle of tea) and when I get back, Lyle’s sister and brother-in-law will be here. I doubt I’ll be able to get the clothes washed. But again… none of anything makes any matter at all. – OK. 9.00 and time to get busy. There isn’t any much time… “Time”; now there’s a joke! – I’m wondering now, why the dream about Zur. The last dream I had about him was, well, actually, the 2. There was the one where I went looking for him and found him living, quite well-off, in some rustic sort of house, in the woods. He was manic in that dream, but quite eccentric and really very happy. In the other dream, I we had had an argument of some manner and I was rather devastated. But in the dream, I lay next to him and he pulled me close to him. I knew he’d died, he was something of an apparition, but he held me, close, as if to comfort or protect me. Why should I have dreams of him now? And I think of the prose that just got published. ‘Why did they take you away?’ and ‘How is it that you came to believe that you were alone and friendless?’ The 1st day of December. I wonder.
Happy Birthday to Bette Midler today.
***** ***** ***** ***** ***** 9.40 HOW STRANGE IS THIS? MY GUT WENT TERRIBLY PAINFUL AS I LOGGED-IN TO CHECK THE FOOD STAMP BALANCE, AND MY BODY GOT FEVERISH EVEN BEFORE THE SCREEN APPEARED… AND YES, IT’S NOW CONFIRMED: NO FOOD STAMPS. I’VE BEEN CUT. SO THERE’S NO, NO, NOTHING AT ALL! NO FOOD STAMPS, NO INCOME, THE LAST OF MY INSTANT COFFEE… AND THAT’S TODAY. EVERYTHING ELSE WILL BE GONE COME THE WEEK. MY LIFE IS CLOSING OUT, SHUTTING DOWN! I AM FINISHED HERE. –
***** ***** ***** ***** *****
Oh well, looks like I’m going to be able to make the bread (if I’m allowed to) and I’ll be stuck here for dinner (if I don’t head HOME today… which is something that’s rather top on my list at this moment). But, there’s no need to think about how to get to Richford today. It’s almost funny, but I was just thinking that if I were to mention the Food Stamps issue to anybody, I can pretty much put everything (like I have anything) on the response: Don’t you have a telephone number you can call to talk with somebody? (a)I have no phone. (b)It’s Sunday, Hello! – 11.53 I need to discuss “STUPID” and “OBTUSE” and ‘FUTILE”. This morning I re-applied for Food Stamps. This morning… on Sunday. Not to mention, by the time they get around to doing anything at all, I’ll be, well, in a state where “food” won’t be an issue. BUT, FRAN can have the card! Maybe for a few months she can benefit from, well, from some part of my existence on earth. God knows, nobody else ever has. – And I’ve hoovered the stairs and the upper hall-way (and Randy’s room) in preparation for the arrival of Lyle’s “folks”. – 1,5 smokes left. No coffee creamer, little sugar, no food, why bother? All systems point to CHECK-OUT! So I go through the machinations. – I feel REALLY REALLY ILL this morning too. Looking a bit on the grey side as well. I hope I can hide my nausea and such. None of anybody’s business, really. Nobody i the house at any rate. And as for anybody else? Really? Knowing wouldn’t do me any any-thing. – And so, the fellows gather in the kitchen, I could use a bit of a shower this morning since I’m not actually in control of my bowels this morning. And? And. Who really and truly jolly well gives a fuck about “and”? I have no “and”. I have this very moment, sitting at the edge of the bed typing to distract my mind from the realities of “all”. This moment, followed by the next moment, and then the next until no more moments are left and then? OH MY GOD AND GOODNESS! THE PEACE! AT LAST! THE PEACE! – 11.53 I need to discuss “STUPID” and “OBTUSE” and ‘FUTILE”. This morning I re-applied for Food Stamps. This morning… on Sunday. Not to mention, by the time they get around to doing anything at all, I’ll be, well, in a state where “food” won’t be an issue. BUT, FRAN can have the card! Maybe for a few months she can benefit from, well, from some part of my existence on earth. God knows, nobody else ever has. – And I’ve hoovered the stairs and the upper hall-way (and Randy’s room) in preparation for the arrival of Lyle’s “folks”. – 1,5 smokes left. No coffee creamer, little sugar, no food, why bother? All systems point to CHECK-OUT! So I go through the machinations. – I feel REALLY REALLY ILL this morning too. Looking a bit on the grey side as well. I hope I can hide my nausea and such. None of anybody’s business, really. Nobody i the house at any rate. And as for anybody else? Really? Knowing wouldn’t do me any any-thing. – And so, the fellows gather in the kitchen, I could use a bit of a shower this morning since I’m not actually in control of my bowels this morning. And? And. Who really and truly jolly well gives a fuck about “and”? I have no “and”. I have this very moment, sitting at the edge of the bed typing to distract my mind from the realities of “all”. This moment, followed by the next moment, and then the next until no more moments are left and then? OH MY GOD AND GOODNESS! THE PEACE! AT LAST! THE PEACE! – 14.39 Lifting, hauling, hoisting 40lb bags of pellets just knocked the shit out of me. Wow! I truly am falling apart. That, and the incontinence issues of the day (bowels and urine, imagine that). – I did, however, notice that a web search for me is finally providing a bit more than that Margot Baldinger bull-shit. Still, that matter appears, and I hope she rots in eternal Hell for it along with that twit so-called “attorney” arse-hole and their relatives with them . But I’ve managed to stuff the Internet with more info than the bull-shit. Pretty good. Not great, but pretty good. – For some reason, 7 December keeps striking me as a delightful date. And I won’t have to be concerned about being about on the 11th! How jolly good is THAT? And, it’s a Saturday, which is rather nice. Shabbat Shalom, as it were. So, I’m going to keep watch for the coming week-end, weather-wise. Let’s have some really good weather from now until then and then delightful weather on the date. “Make it so”. – Now? The hunger issue. – The house has been Hoovered. I did the stairs this morning for Lyle. Randy came and grabbed the Hoover from the closet up here and somebody Hoovered the down-stairs. The house is “orderly”. I don’t want to be here, and I don’t much feel I want to “participate”. I was SUPPOSED to be “out of town”. My existence is a fuck… crunchy peanut butter fuck. – 20.52 In bed. Hungry. Nothing new there. The “party” is down-stairs but I can’t take another moment. Best to get away. And since I’m looking at Friday take-off, I don’t give a shit. Randy and that fucking piece of shit they call a “dog”… it barked at Bruce all evening and when Bruce made a comment, I told him “Oh no! Here we condone and encourage that sort of behaviour.” The dog was irritating poor Bruce to no end and all that was done or said was sissy-ass, fairy bull-shit “No. Bad girl.” FUCK YOU FAGGOT! Now your mutt is making your landlord’s family uncomfortable and that’s all you do? OH HELL NO! But what followed put the clincher on it: Randy went and put himself in his room! Every-one is seated at table and he pulls THAT FAGGOT SHIT? Then I’m told it’s because he’s upset because of my comments? OH FUCK FUCK FUCK THE FAGGOT GIRL! Nah… my appetite went straight to fucking Hell. But me? Rather than make MORE people feel uncomfortable, I sat at table and ate what was closest: potatoes, turnip and Penny was kind enough to add some Brussel sprouts. No meat. And no desert. The food that I did eat only made me ill. I could actually feel it hitting into my stomach and I wanted to bring it back up. But, because I was brought up by people of better calibre, I didn’t. I sat, quietly at the edge of my chair, finishes what was on my plate and then got up from table. As I stood there, by the back door, out of the way, what do I have to see? Lyle, cutting a slice of meat… FOR THE DOGS! THE DOGS REALLY? Even the one who instigated the ill atmosphere this evening! Well imagine that! THE DOGS! OK THEN!- Then Bob suddenly announces that “We have to leave early tomorrow morning to get to Plattsburgh.” WHAT THE FUCK? “WE” are going to Plattsburgh TOMORROW? I’d asked to have my appointment form printed here, but that got no-where and with-out that, I have no cause to got to Plattsburgh… tomorrow or any other day. Oh well… so don’t listen to me. I’ve never known what the fuck I’m talking about anyway, so why should matters be different now? Eh? But then… “we” have to be back in Franklin by noon. The appointment sheet mentions something about expecting to need to be there for 3 hours AND… they don’t open until 9.45! SO! THIS is SO not happening. -That said, I went to sit in the living-room with Bruce and Lyle for a bit. Bob and Penny called us in to table for desert. Of course, FAG-BOY sat his drooping fat arse at table and had apple pie and such AND his little piece of shit picked up on the yipping again SOOoooo…. Bruce, of course, didn’t go in. And, neither did I! But when Bruce commented on Dixie being up on the sofa and saying that “You guys are a little too lenient.” with reference to the animals and their behaviour? I LOST IT! I asked him, quite nicely, NOT to include me in THAT and that I was NOT raised THAT way and I was quick to add that I blame some of it on the fact that SOME people don’t have children so they don’t know how to raise “pets” either. And with that, I went to the back porch, took a couple of drags off the cigarette I’ve been nursing all day, came into the house and up the stairs to the room. I’ve had SO MUCH MORE THAN ENOUGH! – So lets add a little bit more shit to this day. This morning I went to the Twitter account and what do I see but “Spuyten Duyvil” is “trending”. Not a common topic nor a common name of anything. So I investigate a bit and find that there was a train de-railment this morning! How odd, coincidental and shit. I’d just published that prose, included a sketch done from the banks of the river, and was recalling that station, going up to Beacon and coming back to The Bronx over all those years. Well, this is making me feel SO much better. I looked at a couple of videos of the accident and being able to recognise the area the station and all just made me a bit sicker. Blue, melancholy, call it what you will. SICK! – 21.02 and Fag-boy’s mutt is yipping. Folks are still here and Fag-boy’s piece of shit is still at it and nothing is being done to correct the situation. What kind of fucking stupidity is this? It’s disrespectful to Bruce! But nobody seems to give a shit! Earlier, Bruce made a comment to me about people who aren’t used to living with other people. At first I thought he meant it directed at me because of my intolerance. But in hind-sight, I rather think he meant that Fag-boy is the one with the trouble here because he IS disrespectful to ALL in the house by not addressing the issue with HIS little piece of shit. Well? You know? I might have but a few more days left in this house, but I’m just in the mind-set to attend to those who give me grief in these coming days and that little dog is right there at the top portion of my list. I’LL FUCKING LACE THE FUCKER’S SNOUT SHUT IF THEY LEAVE THAT THING IN THIS HOUSE WITH ME ALONE IN HERE AGAIN! AND IF IT HAS A HEART ATTACK? JOLLY FUCKING GREAT! – So pretty much fuck this shit. Friday’s weather is supposed to be pretty good. A day earlier than I was considering, but maybe there’s a reason for that. Besides, it’s not a matter of the day or date… it’s a matter of not BEING when everything… the SO LITTLE bit… I managed to re-gather goes away. (How odd, think I, that nobody thought to ask WHERE the storage is… I jest of course… how odd, indeed.) – Oh, and Penny brought envelopes for the 4 of us in the house. She handed one to me and said “Happy Chanukah”. I don’t know what’s in it but she said they have “Gift Cards”… mentioned something about restaurants and all of us in the car going to the same place to eat. I’ll be leaving mine (of course) for the guys. Bob and Lyle can certainly use them. (And Fag-boy can eat his little dog.) – 22.35 Officially in Hell right now. Can’t sleep. SO HUNGRY that I could sob. And for the past hour I’ve been actively trying to stop my heart. I’ve reached the point where even going HOME doesn’t matter any more. – Bob came by abut 45 minutes after I’d put the light out earlier to tell me that we’ll leave at about 7.00 tomorrow. WHAT? Well, it looks like this Postal job is about to give me a walk from Plattsburgh. And why? For nothing, really. Friday’s Friday. – 22.48 MOTHERFUCKER! FAG-BOY’S PIECE OF SHIT STARTS THE FUCKING YIPPING SHIT! HOLY FUCKING MOTHERFUCKING SHIT! I just can’t believe this fuck-tard! And I’m not apologetic in the least! Fucking selfish brain-dead, in -bred moron! Give me the opportunity and that dog is… GONE! Just don’t leave me and it alone in this house together. I pee in bottles because of that shit! I don’t eat because of that shit. And now, at a time when I’m already at the end of my tether, my nerves are shot to fuck-hell because of that shit! I’m not going to kill it, but I will do what I can to see to it that it never barks again. – 23.14 Closing comment for now. This after-noon I Hoovered the room and the hall. I was doing the runner out-side Lyle and Bob’s room when I’d reached the end of the cord. Bob noticed how I was bringing the runner to me to clean it and when I said “I’ve reached the end of my line.” he replied “Oh, you’ve got a lot of good years left on ya.” I asked “Huh?” He replied “Well you said you’ve reached the end of your line and I’m just saying that you’ve got a lot of good years left on ya.” I had to laugh when I told him “Years? At the rate I’m going I’m not even thinking months. Hours, maybe. But certainly not years.” How coincidental was THAT? Eh? – OK. I’m hungry, feeling all sorts of painful, would truly love a cigarette right now but I don’t dare open the door to the room with Fag-boy and his shit over there and Bob planning on leaving here at 7.00 in the morning. But and so, I’ll wrap this for now, post it to the Journal and… I don’t know what the fuck and… Christ! WHY am I even bothering? Because the weather is such that I’ll have to suffer the cold and wet and I DO NOT DESERVE THAT SHIT! NO! NO MORE FUCKING SUFFERING! I’M AT THE END OF MY FUCKING SUFFERING! NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO MORE FUCKING SUFFERING! NO NO NO NO NOO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NONONONONONOOOONONONONONONONONONNONONONONONONOOO!
I found this image on Tumblr. How odd to know that there is actually somebody else out there, some-where, who’s being tortured the same way I am and who too, has taken control of his or her own destiny. And… FUCK THE REST OF ALL OF THE APATHETIC, SELF-SERVING, FUCK-ALL UNIVERSE!
Mon.2.Dec: 00.55 and I have to be awake in 4 hours from now and I haven’t been to sleep from since 8.00 yesterday morning. Hunger is at the top of the “cause” list. Being pissed at Fag-boy is nr.2. Anxiety and depression, nr.3. And this fucking laptop now with it’s Firefox crashes. I’m going for lights out! FML crunchy peanut butter style. – Mon.2.Dec: 6.34 and yes, I am awake. Why? Fuck that. I am. My guts are miserable this morning. Not from anxious nerves but fro the bull0shit of last night. Just plain fucking disrespect. Lard-ass fuck-tard. OK. SO looking at the forecast… THURSDAY is going to be the best. There are chances of some kind of precipitation all through the coming week, but the temperatures are expected to be rather OK on Thursday and then plummet back into North-Country Winter again as of Friday. I don’t give a shit what day or date. As I say… it’s MY COMFORT now and FUCK THE WORLD. – On that note? Bob said he wanted to leave round 7.00. I don’t have my appointment sheet printed .It’s 6.41. – Weather is that it’s already 0° – 7.31 I suppose I don’t have to jot anything more. If I’m jotting, I’m at the lap-top. If I’m at the lap-top, I’m in the room. – The trip is about 60mi. Takes about 90 mins. (driving). Takes about 5hrs on bike (and we already know how that goes) and about 17hrs. on foot. SO… the library here opens at 10.00. I can toddle over and get the print-out of the appointment. I have until Wed. to get this pee-test done so that gives me tomorrow to get there. Tuesday covered and crowded and they expect me to be attending Lyle’s Dad’s funeral on Tuesday? Oh sorry. Come Wednesday… pack and shit and such. Thursday? SAY GOOD-BYE TO HOLLYWOOD. – Oh, this morning it struck me: Fag-boy’s here because Bob has a “liking” and Fag-boy’s the little “Fag-toy”. So of course, there’ll be some degree of “patience”, tolerance and “understanding” there. For me? Rent. And of course, that’s not coming in at this point… so…. As the little shit waddles about, clutching that little piece of useless shit it calls a “dog’, the scales weigh in it’s favour and against me, especially when I’m the “ogre” in the house. Oh fine. Couple more days, nice weather comes in and you can all sit about with that “thing” (either one makes no difference to me) and enjoy the noise and yipping and the faggy “GIRLS” it whispers when the dogs and little shit make their noises. Me? Death is deaf… PEACE! – 11.46 Back from PLATTSBURGH!!!! For the first time since Nick, I got to BEIN PLATTSBURGH! It was about 7.45 or 8.00 when Bob came to the door of the room to say that he was ready to go. I was already planning, in my head and heart, to go to the local library, print the appointment page and get on the bike. It wasn’t going to be easy and it wasn’t going to be quick, but me, the damned-fool-fuck-for-all-for-brains, giving it the “all” that I always give shit, I wasn’t about to sit back and let this thing ride along. I’m really and truly, honestly and completely such a complete and total… well… just what my old mad used to say to me, about me. Worthless shit. But… Besides, after last night’s hyper-ventilating to the point where my breathing actually shut down for a while, the head-aches, the cramps, the nausea… HELL! Even if I’d gotten to Plattsburgh and had a heart attack and died, I would have been in a place where I remember nothing but happiness… and some of the GREATEST HAPPINESS of my ENTIRE existence. Nick, the Northway, Aramis, Montréal, snow… the big farm house, waking in the morning to a country breakfast… a 1973 dark blue Volkswagen beetle, and driving up and down the Northway between Albany and Plattsburgh… in blizzards… in the middle of the night. A flat tyre in the middle of no-where, in the middle of the night, in January, leaving the car and walking, with Nick, back to the house. Walking the next morning to Mrs. Gregory telling me that the tyre was fixed, the car was at the garage, ready to go… and paid. HAPPINESS! My god! What HAPPINESS! – 22.24 Picking up where that left off… I would have been there, surrounded in HAPPINESS, and that is, after all, what my check-out is all… ALL about now. I WILL BE HAPPY AGAIN! I will leave this fuck-hole they call “world” and I WILL BE HAPPY! And if it means being on a bike, peddling my-self to death to make it to some damned test for drugs for a job I don’t even expect to get in the long run? So be it. – Well, it didn’t quite turn out that way at the end. Instead, Bob and I got into the car and down the road we went… through Highgate, Swanton, across the Champlain, through Alburg and…. BACK INTO NY! NEW YORK! I never thought I’d ever be able to honestly say it, but yes, I’ve missed that State. Not the city, but the North Country, the Northway, the Adirondacks. I miss them. (Not as much as I’ve missed Québec,… but a damned close second.) NEW YORK! AND… when we passed through Champlain, Rouses Point, Point au Roche and came onto the Northway… I KNEW THE EXIT! I KNEW WHRE WE WERE! I KNEW! I’d never come onto the Northway (as I recall) at Exit 41. I’d passed it en route HOME. But something inside me KNEW were we were! I am still a NEW YORKER and the North Country is STILL IN ME! And going down the Northway was, well, familiar. Today, there was a bit of frosty snow on the trees, and a fog in the air. It was… THE NORTH COUNTRY… and I was on the NORTHWAY! And inside me was… Home! WOW! It was… I felt… HAPPY, AT PEACE, and terribly sad all at the same time. It was… well… BITTER-SWEET. But over-all, it was a delight. – Now, Plattsburgh? The Plattsburgh that I remembered? GONE! 2-lane roads are now 4-6 lanes. There are roads that didn’t exist before, going to places that didn’t exist before. “My” Plattsburgh is gone. And, as I believe I sent in an e-mail to Nancy today… I can’t “go back” because “back” isn’t there any longer. I had a general idea as to where we were as Bob drove along, but it had all changed so much. (Very much like Union Avenue, out byETC… which, when I worked at ETC, was a 2-lane road in the darkness of wood-land but, after 32 years of being away, became a major intersection with major inter/intrastates and 4-to-8 lanes wide!) It broke my heart to see what I can only think of as “devastation”. But, as I said to the young man at the “cinic”: At least Plattsburgh is still there. It didn’t run down and out. – Brings me to the “clinic”, a little “house” at the road-side… country. The “visit” was brief, as I thought it might be. In, pee, out. And… I couldn’t believe it: we were back on the road by 9.45! Bob kept telling me that going to Plattsburgh is like going to Burlington… about the same travel time. We even had time to stop at the shopping mall and walk about for a while… even before many of the stores had opened! I got up the guts to ask Bob if he’d pay me a pack of smokes (I was completely out by now) and he agreed. WOAH! 10$ over there! I’d forgotten… NYS TAX! Suck-face government, so greedy and needy. Such a beautiful State and so GREEDY! But he got me the pack and we were back on the road AND back at the house by about 11.00! AMAZING! – Along the drive we talked about many things. Lyle’s dad dying, Lyle’s health troubles, how he (Bob) is usually accused of being angry because that’s just his facial expression (how like me), and all sorts of things. We do talk quite a bit. He told me that Lyle is usually very much to himself when it comes to emotions and internalises a great deal (familiar? Indeed.). it put my mind a bit at ease because I always get the feeling that there’s something Lyle would have to say but won’t. I still feel that way, but at least I don’t dwell on it… much. He told me that he’d been very ill last night, and we tried to figure what was triggering the recent illnesses. Pork? Stress? Trouble he’s been having with his ear? We discussed. – So the ride along was rather nice and I got to see other roads and such up here. AND it was SUCH delight to heart and soul to drive along the Northern Champlain lake! What a total and pure delight! And we passed the Post Office in Alburg where I’d driven from Shleburne to interview for a job in North Hero. It was “familiar”. – Then, when we got back, Bob, Lyle and Randy were to go to Lyle’s father’s wake in St. Albans… but Lyle had developed quite the case of celulitis and needed to go to hospital. Thankfully, Bob insisted the go to the Emergency first and, in short order, they were all off and on the road by about noon… leaving me in the house alone… with the zoo. – I took the opportunity to 10z for a bit and then pfutz on the lap-top, looking at e-mails, catching up with correspondences. Received an e-mail from Nancy saying that she’d phone storage 3 times and got no answer. That’s SO FUCKING TYPICAL OF THEM! I’ve got a list of calls from them always telling me “call immediately” but when I call, the same shit: they don’t answer! Well, no-one will ever know how much I appreciate Nancy’s efforts. I’m sure they’ll be in vain. But then, in the over-all, it doesn’t much matter. I still look at this as “Life and Fate” telling me to get the fuck out of the world, get out of peoples’ way. “Life and Fate” are taking every trace of me out. The rest is my responsibility. No trouble, really. Already planned and ready to “go”. But I DO appreciate the fact that for the VERY FIRST TIME IN MY 58 YEARS ON EARTH, SOMEBODY IS ACTUALLY TRYING TO DO SOMETHING FOR ME! I just don’t understand it, but I’m grateful. (*I know where it’s going to end up, so Thursday is still the day and tomorrow I move my “things” into the barn.*) – I tried to get a nap in for a bit, but just couldn’t get to sleep (like now). But I stayed on the bed for about an hour. And then… at about 16.00 or so, I went down-stairs, fed the zoo (because they don’t get enough to eat and I’m hyper-sensitive to that… it’s personal for me… hunger) and then… I FED ME! I grabbed the left-overs (from Thanksgiving and last night), heated a plate FULL of food, ate that, had desert too! Washed MY dishes and put them up and returned to the room. Oh, I did put pellets into the stove and bring in another bag… OK. – It was about 19.00 when the crew returned. They hadn’t eaten. Lyle had been treated and sent on his way. He has to go back for follow-up (or, in med terms: F/U) tomorrow. But he’s back home and that’s ever so good. – THEN! THEN THEN THEN! This evening, Bob asked me if I’d opened the envelope that Lyle’s sister had given me. No, of course I haven’t. (And I don’t intent to. I intend to leave it for them… when I go HOME). WELL! He and Randy both told me what’s in there! Gift Cards! And not cheap! 25$ Panera Bread, Outback, Olive Garden and a 50$ Visa gift card! Each of us got the same thing! I’m just about to puke!I mean, last night, Penny brought a bath-robe that belonged to their father and gave it to me! I accepted graciously but… And now this? TOO MUCH! Really! (But, as I say, the 3 of them can use it, with my blessings and joy.) Imagine? Amazing! – 23.01 I’ve caught-up with the day, been in bed all the while. I washed a sink full of dishes tonight and treated me to a small “shot” of vodka which I brought up to bed with me in a small baby-food jar. (Can’t even sip a vodka from a real glass these days… no mug for hot coffee, no glass for cocktails. I’m “finished” with this world, really.) Everybody left me alone in the kitchen at about 22.00 and went to bed. Tomorrow morning is Lyle’s father’s funeral across the road and the burial will be in the cemetery across the brook in the back yard. Penny and Bruce will be at the house tomorrow for dinner. Penny’s cooking something and who knows what else will be served. It’s almost as if the World is trying to shove “holidays” at me before I leave. Yeah, right. But.. here it is, here I am and here it all goes. And right now it’s time for me to post this shit to the Journal and try to get some rest. Tomorrow I should showers, brush my teeth, look “civil”. I don’t bother with that any more. – I wear the same clothes for about a week or longer, don’t bother to brush my teeth until they feel horrid, haven’t shaved in… long long time. I just don’t give a shit… just don’t give a shit. I’ll “nicey-up” for the trip HOME. – OH! I went through the old voice-mails this evening. I can do that via e-mail now. Sent Nancy Peter Triello’s name and phone (storage). *I know where that’s going to go… I still have Thursday and tomorrow my “things” are going into the barn.* And what a bit of a kick hearing Noah’s voice and HELENE DEMEREST!!! Yup. My “life” has been… and now it’s time to move along. Storage will take care of the “belongings”… I will take care of the rest.
Tue.3.Dec: 15.13 Just back a little while ago from taking Lyle to the ER. – Penny and Bruce here. Penny and Randy in the kitchen, cooking. Bruce watching TV. Me, tired and hungry. Weather: Over-cast and foggy! Not too warm but not too cold. Freezing fog tonight. Thurs. warm but rain. Me, ready to check-out. Thinking, however, Bob and Lyle have had quite a bad holiday season thus far… is it TOO selfish of me to GO? Over-whelming reply to me: It would be doing everybody a kindness. – No word from Nancy today. I can’t… just cannot think about it! – 17.25 And Penny, Bruce and Fag-boy are sitting at table eating a soup that Penny made, enjoying a nice hot meal as I sit in the room. No, I cannot sit at that table with the little piece of shit yipping every time poor Bruce makes a move. I mean, I went to the loo just now and the floor UP-STAIRS squeaked and that shit went into a yip-fit! Fuck that shit! It’s so on my last nerve that I’m about half-tempted to head for HOME tonight. Honestly, with all that’s on my mind right now, I just cannot take any more aggravation. And to have that shit yipping, Fag-boy doing nothing to correct? No! Hell-shit! I’m peeing in plastic juice bottles, held captive in this room after and before certain hours. Sit and eat with? OH NO! So, I’m up here, listening to Premièr chaîne and typing this. Nice. Very nice, indeed. – ANYWAY… This morning, I was laying in bed, planning the plans for the day: shower, dress, stroll up the road to the funeral, go to the burial… and there was a knock on the door. Bob asked me to take a look at Lyle’s leg. Well! The celulitis certainly worsened over-night! It was so bad that even Lyle wanted to go to hospital. So it was decided that I would bring Lyle to the ER and Bob and Fag-boy would attend the funeral services. Hey! I don’t mind. I don’t like all those crowds and I don’t like funerals anyway. So, instead of showering and shaving and looking “human”, I tossed my clothes back on and off we went, Lyle and I, to hospital. – The hospital staff was delightfully kind, considerate. Lyle was in rather good spirits, all considered. And we’d chatted almost all the drive there (I got to drive too). I stayed with him until about 13.00 or so (from about 11.00) when Bob phoned to say that I should bring the car back, they’d done with the services. So, into the car and back to the house I came to find Penny and Bruce here. Bob left shortly after to go to be with Lyle. – Good thing I was here this evening. The pellet stove needed some attention. The vent out-side needed cleaning and when I got to it, it was blocked with ash and soot! So I tapped the soot loose and when I came in, Bruce was concerned that the stove was burning too high. It was burning as it should have been, so I tried to explain to Bruce, but as is usual… everything I said was doubted. The exhaust was clear, finally, the stove was burning ever so well, but when I tried to tell that that’s as it should burn, it was questioned. No, I just spew words for the hell of it. The house was warming up for the first time in 2 days and I don’t know WTF I’m talking about. Fine. – Somebody had tipped the kitty litter over and it was spread on the floor. I got to clean it up. Imagine that. – (I’m dozing off here. I’d wanted to shower tonight before bed. I’d wanted to make a wash today. I doubt I’ll do either. At 17.41 I’m ready to get under the covers and pray for sleep.) I’ll probably get none of it done. But… it doesn’t make any difference anyway. I just don’t give a fuck.- OK and so… I should have stopped at the banque before coming back to the house today, but I didn’t. Nothing’s been posted to the FS card so I’m still SOL. Oh well. C’est la vie… fuck. – I just hope that Penny and Bruce don’t think me ungrateful or unsociable because I’m not at table with them, but I will see to it that given the opportunity, I will make my annoyance known, including the bit about peeing in juice bottles. AND I hope they don’t DARE to shove me into the same (or similar) categorie as Fag-boy. I had to hear the whole “He’s so sensitive…” bull-shit TWICE today. “Sensitive”? Grow the fuck up! Take some responsibility for something… especially that piece of shit of yours. You cause terrible inconvenience to others and you just don’t give a fuck? Well, me neither… and I’m not causing inconvenience. Imagine that. – And so, on to and with what-ever. Penny and Bruce will be going over to hospital this evening. Probably leaving me and Fag-boy here. It’s going to be a night of Hell… I can see it now. – Meanwhile, no word from Nancy about storage. No word from storage. No word from the PO. No word. I’m taking that all as a blessing… I’m ready to head out the door on Thursday morning to go HOME. May the weather be favourable. Tomorrow I MUST get things into the barn!!! I’d planned on doing that today but… and yes, I think of the impact my leaving might have and that this has been a difficult “holiday season” for Bob and Lyle already but… (17.54 BULL-SHIT!!! EVEN AS I TYPE THIS, I HAVE THE VOLUME ON THE LAP-TOP UP TO MAX AND FAG-BOY’S SHIT IS YIPPING! I SEE ME WALKING OUT THE DOOR THIS EVENING… TIME TO PLAN MY … ESCAPE FROM HERE TONIGHT! PERHAPS THIS IS THE TIME TO ARARNGE THE UPPER BARN FOR ME? – Penny and Bruce seem to be leaving. Damn shame they’re not taking Fag-boy with. His little piece of shit would get the brunt of my fury tonight…, for certain.) – THANK ALL FOR INTERNET CONNECTIONS TO CBC! – 21.59 A strange sort of night with Lyle not being in the house. Bob is asleep on the sofa down-stairs, Fag-boy has been in bed from since Penny and Bruce left (typical). But all in all, it’s just strange being in the house with-out Lyle being here. I mean, after all, it is HIS house. – Bob came back at about 19.30 or so. Lyle is safe and secure tonight. That’s quite a relief. The medical teams can monitor all that need be monitored. There wasn’t any talk of removing his leg. RELIEF! May it be that way… – Me, ate the left-over potatoes with butter and some cheese. Then, when Bob came back, I had a bit of the “soup” that Penny had made that Bob brought back as left-overs from what he and Lyle had this evening. I go to bed tonight not hungry. Imagine that. – I managed to get my finger and toe nails filed. Tomorrow, I’ll make a wash or so, get the clothes good and clean and packed. I’ll be able to trim my beard and maybe trim my hair. I’d like to look OK for Thursday. – Tonight, the temperatures are actually mild, all things considered. Hopefully they’ll continue up a bit higher and it would be nice if the “rain” in the forecast is incorrect. Hey, the forecasts have been wrong before. May Thursday prove mild and clear. I’d like that very much. It would be nice to go HOME on a day when the sky is blue and the clouds are white…. blue and white… the colours of the flag of HOME and Israel and Bavaria! – There’s much to accomplish tomorrow and it seems the only 2 in the house will be me and Fag-boy. I have entirely too much to get done to be bothered with or by him. Plan is to get up early as usual and get to the laundry first thing. Then, pack things to be put into the barn. Then tidy me up and then? And then what-ever comes along. As I say, I have much to get done. This room has to be made ready for the next person to come in. Hopefully they’ll get somebody good, who won’t mind the chill in here (although right now, the temperature is quite OK). – I never did get to do my “play list” for Thursday. Maybe I’ll get to that tomorrow as well. Bob won’t be home until later in the evening, after stopping by to see Lyle, so there won’t be a “regularly scheduled” dinner. I’ll have much time to get things together. – Haven’t figured a departure time for Thursday, but I don’t have any trains to catch to get to any buses to climb any mountains. It’s “my” time to get to this mountain. That’s rather nice. And the walk? The walk will be nice. I’ll get a nice chance to say “Buh-bye” to Vermont. It was a really wonderful twist of Fate to be here… where I can walk HOME. “Walk HOME”. Imagine that. Time with me, for me. We come into this world alone… we leave this world alone. But “alone” is what brings Peace, and Peace is what it’s all about. – With that, a little last minute checking of shit. What the fuck? Why not? And then, try for sleep. Sleep tonight would be ever so nice and welcome. I’ve been rather quite tired most of today. I hope tonight I’ll get to sleep. – 22.55 I SHOULD HAVE LEFT WELL-ENOUGH ALONE!!! HAD TO GO CHECK THE FACEBOOK PAGE AND FOUND THIS!
I posted, because of Fag-boy’s piece of shit “dog”…
Quote: “….handle a problem that is the result of another’s lack of responsibility. A noisy dog is a training issue that the owner needs to be aware of and address by them.” http://renters.apartments.com/my-neighbors-dog-never-stops-barking-what-can-i-do
End Quote
Lyle sees it and replies…
Quote: I’m so sorry Jude that the dogs bother you! Unfortunately they have priority in the house we love them beyond measure and I just can’t bring myself to physically abuse them !
I was so heartsick putting the bark collar on the girls! Nearly tore my heart out. I cannot bring myself to place them in a position of torture . I hope you understand that this is something that just isn’t going to change.
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To which I replied…
Quote: I know Lyle. It’s not the dogs. Dixie and Ellie have become rather quiet these days. But then, Dixie is exceptional in SO many respects! I swear she “knows” things! Ellie has actually gotten really “homey” (not in the “ghetto” way… just, well, like “lounge about and what-ever”. What I find rude and disrespectful was when poor Bruce couldn’t move with-out being harrassed by the other one and nothing was done to address that. It comes as a shock to me that someone for whom you have so much dedication and respect could be just that rude, obnoxious, disrespectful and apathetic as to simply allow “his” pet to make someone in your family feel uncomfortable. I have never understood that sort of selfishness and I suppose at my age I never will. (Particularly when it’s known that I still pee in plastic bottles at night and in the morning hours so as not to cause disruption or disturbance in the house and still, that goes un-acknowledged and so it seems to me that it makes no difference at all.) Pets are very much like children (which is something almost moot to mention, but I do): They (just as we did in our youth) need a it of guidance… children and pets. When ill behaviour is left un-addressed, pets (and children) use that as their paradigm and so, barking at a person (that would be for the pets and hopefully not the children), if not adressed, will become acceptable. The bark collar was put on Dixie, the poor thing. But that other one seems to have Carte Blanche no matter what. To my understanding, Dixie was here, in the house, first. This is her “home”. She is punished but blatant nepotism is being applied and I feel that this is an unforgivable injustice.
I’ve not complained about being confined to the room at night, not able to go use the loo nor step out for a smoke when I can’t sleep and might like to. I’ve not mentioned it until now. I understand, to a point, that the situation, and this has nothing to do with Dixie nor Ellie, will continue. I’ve been silent about it. But that doesn’t mean that I have to approve or to even “like” (no Facebook pun intended) it.
It’s been discussed and yet nothing is done to change anything. So it will be as it has been, is and will be. I just hope that there will be no further punishment meted toward Dixie or Ellie for the transgressions not their own.
No malice intended. Just my personal opinion based on observation and direct experience.
Now you focus on getting yourself better! Hopefully you’ll get a couple of ever-so-attractive staff folk who will brighten your spirits and lift your sheets and you’ll be back at the (OMG! I almost said “Old Homestead” and then I remembered… OOPS… Not the “Homestead”! Bad reference!) you’ll be back at the “Hotel” so soon that you won’t even know you’d left. (The place is SO weird with-out you!)
End Quote
And so now I sit here, pain my chest, saddened that Lyle took it to HIM when it had nothing to do with him, Fag-boy goes unscathed yet again because of his “miserable past” and the abuse he’s suffered through and all that shit, and once again, yours truly gets to come across as the FUCKING KUNT BITCH! WHAT THE BLOODY-FUCKING HELL-SHIT? SERIOUSLY? WHAT THE FUCKING BLOODY-FUCKING HELL-SHIT? THAT FUCKING FAGGOT! INCONSIDERATE, DISRESPECTFUL, SIMPLE-MINDED, ILL-BRED PANSY-ASS FAGGOT! AND I’M LOOKING AT NOW BEING PEGGED THE FUCK-UP BASTARD? I’M TRAPPED IN A ROOM… OH WHAT THE FUCK. IT’S ALREADY MENTIONED IN THE FB TEXT. THURSDAY? ALL THE MORE WELCOME AT THIS POINT! ALL THE MORE WELCOME! I’M EXHAUSTED, THIS IS THE FUCKING END OF THIS SHIT!
I’m supposing no word from Nancy means nothing done today. (I expect, receive, feel… – – – …) A personal letter to The World: 1955-2013
Wed.4.Dec: 7.37 This morning begins with the accompaniment of Death. Re-packing and room-cleaning has begun. Clothes are in the dryer, bed-linens are next to be washed. Clothing will be re-packed into the one piece of luggage that remains of what was once my feeble and worthless existence. This morning, considering the wet ground and slush, I’ve decided to leave it all as far back in the walk-n closet as I can. It will be out of the way in there, probably never seen until the next tenant in this room decides he or she needs the space. And at that point in time? I’ll neither be aware nor give a shit about any of it. – A delightful way to begin the day… – Bob is off to work. He left at about 6.30. I know this because he stopped by Fag-boy’s room setting off a choir of barking. Ah, I don’t much care, really, because my own alarm had buzzed at 6.00, and better he (Bob) should disturb Fag-boy and his piece of shit than I should have done. I have to chuckle to my-self: there is a bit of justice in the world… Of course, in some manner, something will be twisted round-about and against me. But you know? Right now, there are only “hours” (The Hours) remaining. The World, the Universe will have to scamper to find another somebody to randomly and incessantly bitch-slap. This “bitch” will be in the Eternal fuck-hole and you can all talk, and none of it will make a damned bit of difference. I came into this World with-out any say or control… but I leave on my own terms. Tough shit on all the rest. In the end, I get MY decisions and MY choices. – And so, a delightful way to begin a day: I wake to the touch and the voice of Death, and it takes my hand to help me out of the bed and along my way. The skies are grey and over-cast, the ground is wet with remnants of snow. But the air is a bit warmer than it has been, slightly above the “freezing” mark, but warmer. – Hey! I peed in the toilet this morning AND I even got to take a shit in the toilet this morning! Imagine? – Oh, and I found some store bags: DuaneReade, Waldbaums… New York. I’ve folded them neatly to put in with my clothing. Why? Simply because… simply because. They mean nothing to any-one else, but they mean something to me. I leave them behind… they’ll be tossed to the land-fill, pretty much the same as I will be. We’ll be land-fill together. That’s lovely Me and some plastic store bags. But in the end, the final run? That’s all anything becomes really. I mean, look at yesterday and Lyle’s father: there’s a patch of ground that’s been disturbed, a few cut flowers lay on that ground. Under them is the rotting remains of “somebody” who once meant something to somebody else. Above that, flowers that once had life as well. All dies, rots, decays and ceases to exist. “All”… eventually. – Good morning. Sorry to disturb you with my presence. I’ll just tidy and be out of your way as quickly as possible. – “When the guests have done, I’ll tidy up the room. I’ll turn the covers down, and gazing at the moon, will pray to go quite mad, and live in ‘long ago’, when you and I were one, so very long ago… and now I lay me down to sleep… forever by your side.” – 10.18 luggage packed and put up. Clothes washed. I have to shave, hair-cut, shower, but Missie Fag-boy o still in bed and I don’t DARE disturb it. Bad enough I’m on the “Hostile” list already Although, being there already… I’ll give it a little while… maybe til 11.00 and then? Fuck-all fuck it, all time’s mine. I still need to wash the bed-linens anyway. – Got the room tidy as well. Just a few little tid-bits to attend. – Lovely way to begin a day… prepping for one’s own death. But you know I rejoice in that I have control over this… nothing else, but this. There’s something quite comforting about it. And as I tidy and prep, I run through tomorrow’s plans, and where I’ll be at this same time, 24 hours from now. It’s not at all, all that bad… pas pire, pantoute. – 10.34 WELL! IMAGINE THIS SHIT! THE FINAL “HEALTH-RELATED” FORMS JUST ARRIVED (VIA E-MAIL) FOR THE JOB! I’M EMPLOYED! POSTAL SERVICE. JOB I ACTUALLY HAPPEN TO LOVE. PMR (ALTHOUGH THEY NOW CALL IT “PSE”)! I DON’T HAVE TO BE CONCERNED ABOUT A VEHICLE TO GET TO AND FROM WORK BECAUSE AT THE MOMENT, IT’S A CASUAL STROLL OUT THE DOOR. IMAGINE! Plans for tomorrow stand. Right now, how-ever, I shall submit the requested forms. I’ll have to really work with them if I can complete them on-line and send as a PDF. Else, there’s a trip into Enosburgh today to print and post. – If any-one was to ever delve beneath my skull, surely there would be either nothing at all or one mass of worm-infested putrid useless matter of some sort where the “brain” should be expected. Father was correct: “Useless”. – 14.01 The clothes are done. The bed-linens are in the dryer. I’ve got a hair-cut and bear-trim and a shower. Bob rang to say that he’d spoken with Randy this morning (how odd that when I asked Randy if he’d spoken with Bob he told me that he hadn’t. Fag-boy, little old woman bull-shit.) Anyway, as it turns out, Bob had told Fag-boy to freeze the left-over turkey BUT he told me that I should take the dark meat before it was frozen. I checked the fridge? GONE! ALL OF IT! So the little Cold War begins in earnest. Meanwhile, I have to get to Enosburgh today to get those forms for the PO out. The sun had been shining on and off and when I put the bed-clothes into the dryer, the sun went away. – Am down to the last few smokes. Oh well. All is going rather “well” for the “day before”. We shall see as all goes along. I put a shit-load of shit back into the barn today. Brought the bed-pan into the room… cleaned, of course, for point. – Other-wise, I’m just rolling along. Oh, Hoovered the room as well. Mustn’t leave anything for anybody to chat about. – PS Bob says he’s not expecting Lyle back before Monday coming. You know? Let the 2 of them inhabit together… him and Fag-boy. After all, they have a “thing” for each-other anyway… that’s how they all met in the first place. – Fuckit… really. – 14.13 Facebook account “de-activated”. In 14 days it will be deleted… so they say. No more of THAT bull-shit! –
17.38 Left with-out a word to fag-boy at about 15.00. Took the bike into Enosburgh. Went into the library, got on-line with fingers so frozen I had to type with one finger at a time. E-mail. PDF forms for the Post Office. Print. Completed the 5 pages of forms with frozen fingers and frozen pen. Put all into an envelope. Paid the 50cents for the prints. Back on the bike. Over to the Post Office there to post the forms. Back on the bike and back into Franklin. Just walked into the house to hear fag-boy’s piece of shit barking at me as I walked into the kitchen WITH FAG-BOY STANDING RIGHT THERE! YES, I SAID “OH SHUT THE FUCK UP!” AND FAG-BOY TELLS ME “FUCK YOU! JUST BECAUSE YOU’RE IN A BAD MOOD…” and something else I didn’t hear. I REPLIED “FUCK YOU TOO!” AND SO I INVITED HIM TO COME UP AND TRY IT. “I WOULDN’T WNTTO FUCK A MAN LIKE YOU!” SAYS FAG-BOY. SERIOUSLY? THIS SHIT IS AT THE THE END! – As for the “help” and intercession with storage, I gave that thought as I biked along in the dark and cold. Odd… Nancy says in her e-mail that she got “5 rings” and no voice mail. Odd… when-ever I phoned, I got all sorts of recorded messages and eventually got the voice mail of the office. Hmmmm….. how it gets stranagerer and strangerer… How I wonder… indeed I do. – Well… 17.45 and I’m not coming out of this room and into the house until somebody else is in here. I’ll not be accused of all sorts of shit by that drug-infested hick-town homo. As I thought whilst out on the road this evening: With-out knowing ANYTHING ABOUT ANYTHING, FAG-BOY TOLD LYLE’S SISTER THAT LYLE AT HALF AND APPLE PIE! WHEN, IN FACT, I HAD 2 PIECES, BOB HAD A PIECE AND LYLE HAD ONE SLICE AND THAT WAS JUST BEFORE HE’D GONE TO HOSPITAL! SO! There’s no telling WHAT kind of fucking lies will be told about me. (I rather suspect Bob will be told that I’d gone to Richford today.) But you know? It make no difference one way or the other. I know where I went, and what I did. And if anyone cares to check, the librarian in Enosburgh knows as well because I spoke about having the bike and having biked in from here. – OH PLEASE LET THE WEATHER BE KIND TOMORROW AND MAY I HAVE THE STRENGTH AND STAMINA TO GO HOME! – 21.17 OK. In bed at last. The weather report for tomorrow is miserable! Doesn’t that just figure? Well, as long as I’m “out” of this shit BEFORE the 11th I’ll be OK. I will NOT be breathing/conscious/a living being on the 11th! I will NOT! – Of particular note is the fact that, when I came in from the run to Enosburgh this evening and opened the lap-top, instead of it being “off”, it was more in “sleep”! THEN, as I tried to work on it, many of my settings had been changed. OK. I do not want to “accuse” when I don’t know for absolute certain, but I’ve a suspicion that the lap-top had been tampered with in my absence. Aaaannnndddd… having seen fag-boy and his instability (worse than mine and similar to several in.. The Shelter) I’ve very little to no doubt at all that indeed, there was tampering going on whilst I was away. Should that ever come to be proven whilst I breathe, there will be broken fingers… and not mine. And this, I put in this text as a solemn vow. – Moving along… when Bob came in this evening round about 18.30, he came right up to the room to ask if I’d like to drop by to see Lyle this evening… he’d asked Randy as well. Ah HAH! NOT! I would have had to drive (he was offering the car) the two of us. Now, yesterday, (I failed to mention), as I drove from hospital back to the house, I wanted SO SO MUCH to simply drive right off the road at top speed. My brain even focused on a visual of the mountain going over to N. Troy and ALL the delightful places of “interest” en route. Had the car been mine, we’d both be in the Northeast Kingdom right now. Indeed. But, to have fag-boy in the car with me driving? THAT takes TRUST (admittedly on both sides but I’m focusing on ME right now) and I MOST CERTAINLY DON’T have ANY of that in fag-boy. OH! There could be “He swerved and I wrenched my back!” or “He slammed the brakes and I snapped my neck!” or “He drove so fast I was scared all the way!” or “He kept hitting all the pot-holes and bumps and my back is so sore now!” or any number of shits. NO WAY! ME? Drive Bob’s car with THAT in it? NOT! NOPE! NO WAY! So, I simply dodged by telling him that I’d just gotten back from pedalling into Enosburgh and back and that I was achey my-self and was only just then thawing. I asked about Lyle and he gave “report” which was delightful. I segued into my having killed my “Facebook” page (which, by the way, I’ve re-opened but blocked the house and did what I could to make certain that fag-boy stays clear! I want that page up and running… for the book! Bad enough I won’t be moving forward with l’Atelier. And now there are TWO books… which reminds me: tomorrow, should the weather force me to remain yet another fucking day, there’s a book that MUST get done and published! If Fate is to keep me here, that book is my release from so much!) So, where was I? Oh yes then… Bob asked me if I killed FB because of Lyle’s comment on my post. I told him that it was no because of that, but that I’m just fed-up with all the “Old Lady” bickering. I got it off my chest with him, and I told him the same thing I’d posted on FB: Dixie and Ellie got the bark collar to stop the barking but as it was obvious, certain people around have certain privileges and it bothers me terribly because it’s neither just nor fair. I explained that Bruce spoke on his discomfort with fag-boy’s piece of shit barking and that I find it disrespectful that the matter wasn’t addressed and corrected. So, the matter is out, it’s been mentioned, it fell like a stone in the open sea. But then again, Bob is the one who “invited” fag-boy in the first place, when they’d met on what-ever social media they ‘hooked-up” on and Bob’s the one with the “thang for” fag-boy so of course, the nepotism will ride and ride right over me. So be it. Given time, I shall take care of things to ensure my comfort, no matter what. – I’d gone down for a halfie (since I’ve no cash and only 3 smokes left now) and on my way back up to the room (I’m trying to figure how to complete the digital forms for the PO with-out having to buy soft-ware… for a job I’m hoping I won’t be alive to take come the start) and Bob called up “Did you eat?” and I replied “Nah.” Fact is: I’m running on mouth-fulls of sugar, a dry Ramnen noodles pkg. and a bit of pound cake from this morning. I’m not making a “deal” out of it. I don’t behave that way. Letting it ride. I don’t give a shit… about a WHOLE LOT any more. There’s just no sense in any of if. Besides, I have more important matters on my mind… Like going HOME for the first and fore-most. That aside, I will NOT sit at table with fag-boy and dine! One does not break bread with those for whom there is nothing but disgust. – And so, I continued to try to “fix” the lap-top. What DID work was a complete shut-down and re-start, indicating that the lap-top HAD been started AFTER I’d shut it down before leaving. OK then… I looked for soft-ware or pointers on how to complete the PO forms AND THEN the HEART-BREAK! I don’t know WHAT happened, but my “30 Vies” is no longer viewable on-line! So there’s another little pleasure of my “life” that’s been ripped from me! Little by little, it’s all going away. (Shit! From the looks of this room, anybody can see just how much is “gone” already. I “cleaned” the room today and there’s precious little remaining.) Well, there are messages in the air… Time to… say good-bye…. as it were. – A few moments before I got into bed, Bob came back up to ask if I’d heard anything further from the PO about the job. I told him that I’d only just posted the health forms this evening. I wonder now why the interest. Is it genuine interest in the job prospect? Is it to talk with some-one other that fag-boy? Is it because I owe rent? I wonder, I wonder. But, Bob and I get along fairly well and I would believe that, if he had something to say to me, he’d say it… or at least open a discussion. He also told me that I could hook into the house printer via WiFi… all I’d need do is config the lap-top and turn the printer on. (I really don’t want to go that route because it uses paper and ink and neither are cheap.) But it was a very kind gesture and much appreciated. – Truth of the matter is: Bob and Lyle are very kind people. The “trouble” in the house is fag-boy, the hick-town homo and it’s piece of shit. Faggot. Plain and simple. As I thought on this evening’s chilling ride (chilling, indeed): It’s no wonder his family uses and abuses him. There’s most likely something that neither Bob nor Lyle know and will probably refuse to see or learn about that “thing”… He’s abusive in his own right. I’ve no doubt that he’s got issues about me being here because, even as Bob said, he’d expected to be part of a routine 3-way, but Lyle isn’t interested in him for such things, so he’s a bit disappointed and pissed. Then, I’m here, and, no doubt, I present an obstacle in his having a bit of a “thang goin’ awn” with Bob in Lyle’s absence. So… So. Well, as I say it, see it and know it: Faggot, pure and simple… Hick-town homo. Too fucking bad. – So right now, at 21.55, the room is growing chilled again and I’m quite a bit on the tired side. I biked briskly and over more hills than I’d have imagined biking this evening and at one point, as I sat at the desk here, my legs CRAMPED terribly (which is why I’m in bed). So, perhaps a nice “nap” for the night and hopefully the weather forecast will prove incorrect and I’ll wake to a delightfully clear and seasonably warm day… Everything’s packed for the HOME trip. Mama? I’m ready to go HOME! LET’S GO! – 23.52 A NOTE TO ME: Moé là, j’ai posté le formulaire à Donna via courielle-éléctronique parce-que j’ai juste trouvé le methode avec le readerPDF! Eh ben… VOILÁ! C’est fini! Et pis? Moi aussi! en tabarnak de ben fuck là.
Thu.5.Dec: 8.29 In my haste to leave here yesterday I didn’t put on the sweats under my jeans. This morning, Fate is fucking with me for having been hasty. Standing, walking, stairs, anything, really, that requires my right leg is PAINFUL! Fate… fucks me yet again. The muscle or tendon behind the knee feels as if it has been twisted. The knee-cap appears to be out of place. What wonders. The temperature out-side is rather nice, mild. The sky is that solid over-cast grey. It’s really quite pleasant out there. And me? I could be in the shower or dressed or something and well on my way HOME! But walking to the border (those fucking, miserable shits: borders and border patrols and such!) would only present ALL sorts of questions today… and that’s IF I actually made it. Plus, there’s a 19-20km walk involved and I doubt I’d manage that very well. Biking is COMPLETELY out of the question. That leg barely gets me to the back door, let alone biking up the road. I don’t know why. I don’t know what. I don’t understand any of this shit. If I believed in the “Fairytale” bull-shit about “somebody watching” or “a divine purpose” or “divine intervention” I’d certainly attribute. But this is bull-shit, plain and simple. THERE’S MORE SUFFERING COMING AT ME! MORE TORTURE, MORE PAIN, MORE SUFFERING! And it’s the prolonged type… 6 more days and I’m finished. I’ll be sitting up here whilst the Auctioneer screams or the silent bids are written down and MY FUCKING LITTLE BIT OF LIFE will disappear! And I’ll be helpless against it. GONE. VANISHED. And again, as always, no-one gives a shit. No-one gives a flying fucking shit. “Ah… he’s fine. He’s OK.” “He’s strong. He’ll get over this and move on.” “He can handle it.” And why? Because he’s a shit, a useless shit, dumb fuck. – I don’t necessarily want to but I’ll use the gift-card to get smokes today. Kills me to do so… next door. But I can’t make the trip to Richford and that’s the only assets I have access to today. I can’t make it into St. Albans today… walking nor biking. – I’ll work on the next book. Maybe I’ll lock me up in the barn for the day, keep away from fag-boy and it’s clutch-bag piece of shit yip-thing.- When I went down for a morning halfie, on my way back I grabbed 2 glazed donuts. It’s the first thing I’ve eaten from since yesterday morning when I had the pound cake. Ah… so 2 glazed donuts AND a tap-water hot morning coffee with creamer. So I guess I should shut the fuck up (STFU) and stop whining. I’m living the life of luxury here. (I wish I was back in Richford, on my little cot, with my Goodwill/Salvation Army comforters… my martinis-in-the-jar, pills and the iPod playing delightful memories music… ALONE! GOD DAMN ALL OF FUCKING CREATION! (Wow! I just felt THAT emotion vibrate in my bone marrow! If there’s ANY truth to rumours and superstitions about “energy” in the human “spirit”… GOD DAMN ALL OF FUCKING CREATION! GOD DAMN ALL OF FUCKING CREATION! GOD DAMN ALL OF FUCKING CREATION! GOD DAMN ALL OF FUCKING CREATION! GOD DAMN ALL OF FUCKING CREATION. GOD DAMN ALL OF FUCKING CREATION! GOD DAMN ALL OF FUCKING CREATION!
11.43 It is now, I’m afraid, official: “Walking” AND, in particular, biking are completely out of the question. I just made my way, feebly, over to the store, AND I brought the empty trash and recycling barrels back (I will add), and the PAIN PAIN PAIN is HORRENDOUS! I don’t know what I did to that leg/knee, but what-ever it is, it’s BAD BAD BAD. The right leg won’t support even my meagre body-weight. Bending the leg at the knee is so painful. Walking across the lawn on un-even surface is torture. I should really get a jar of super-crunchy peanut butter, remove my trousers and under-shorts, slop a nice nut-filled slather across my arse-hole and lay, face down, in the middle of the road so that folks passing through town… oh wait… there are old plant stakes in the back of the barn! I could put a bucket of them beside me so that the folks can all have one to SHOVE up my rectum, super-crunchy peanut butter and all. Imagine… the ONE thing I depend on… taken away. This is probably only the beginning. – Last night I couldn’t get to sleep. The thoughts that kept me in palpitations:
As of this month, I owe Bob and Lyle 1500$
Storage is probably up near 500$
I actually exist on nothing more or less than coffee and cigarettes and I can’t afford either of those.
Then: whilst fag-boy is out with Bob and Lyle, off to St. Albans and Fairfax and such, and I am in this house alone for most of the day with the zoo, I feed the little piece of shit, I take it out to the yard to piss and shit, I attend to it. And fag-boy comes in with bottles of booze (that I don’t partake in… and am not invited to), all sorts of shit in general… and I’m not even asked if I’d like to join them! BUT… when I’m annoyed because of fag-boy’s absence of respect and consideration when it’s little piece of shit yips at me, I’m told “FUCK YOU!” OH KAY THEN! And I’m supposed to be, expected to be the silent one and “understand”? OH NO THEN! No, you see, it’s not “FUCK ME!” The moment WILL come when it will become as it should be… FUCK YOO-OO-OO! And when that opportunity presents? I shall be here or there to accept it and use it to its fullest potential. Not least of all… this is a rather sparse State with much wood-land, even to where it crosses a “national border” which fag-boy cannot cross. How terrible it would be if the little piece of shit suddenly went… oh… perhaps… missing. O my! Me? I know the roads, and the wood-lands and the border and I can cross that border. Hmmmm….. O my! indeed.
That said, it’s now going for the noon hour. I’ve a hot-tap-water coffee on the desk in the corner so now I have to make my way off the bed and over to get it. The room is chilled and so too, my fingers. But it’s only a matter of time… just time. – 17.13 Well, I managed to get a few good hours of writing in today. It wasn’t easy. Most of it was done on the bed because sitting in a chair was painful. I took smoke breaks (and I know ti annoys fag-boy but I don’t give a jolly fuck about that). Exercise. Up and down the stairs. Difficult at best. But better to MOVE than to lie about (like others I observe). Although I must admit, on my last break, fag-boy actually brought TWO bags of pellets into the house! Good for it because I am resolved NOT to bring any in during the day, to let the stove go out if it does, and let it be at that. Hey! I can handle the cold (and yes, this room has been cold, in spite of the “warmer” temparatures out-sdie all day. Let the “metal in my back” a la fag-boys lament, chill through. You see? “Fuck you!”? I should think not. You want to be kept warm? Do it yourself. “No ma yob papi chulo.” Cuddle with your little piece of shit. – And now, I shall have yet another coffee. I need something to knock the 7 PopTarts out of my system! – 19.34 Well, the day is gone. It didn’t rain. It did get “warmer”… and damp. And truth of the matter? Had my leg been in any condition where I could have strolled across the border, I would NOT be entering this in this Journal, which, I believe, I will take down for another few days now. – Bob has come home. We chatted briefly. He asked again about the job prospect. I told him of the latest. I went for a smoke. I’ve had nothing to eat again all day, save the PopTarts. But fag-boy made sure he ate… that rich soup that Penny had made. You know? I don’t really give a shit. I’m just really and truly, whole-heartedly sorry, in the literal sense, that I’m here now. Here, as in anywhere on Earth breathing. I’ve been listening to classical and baroque music on the iPod all day, set at a volume where I can’t hear anything that goes on in the house. It’s been… I’ve been silent all day. I’ve nothing to say… to anybody really. And now, it approaches 20.00 where I can crawl back into the bed and close my eyes on this day. – Neslson Mandella died today. Lucky bastard. If somebody had to leave the world today, it certainly should have been me. It would seem I fucked things up again, if that’s the case. The story of my life. – No word from Nancy. But a voice-mail from storage asking me to phone them. I don’t know why I even bother to check for word from Nancy. In the core of my being I know… nothing will be done. And I have no malice. I have no feelings at all on the matter. I don’t have the capacity to have any emotions or feelings on this matter or any other matter. – Which reminds me: I can sense the tension in the house. I’ve no doubt that something negative has been and will be said about my “attitude”. And, as always, my take on the issue concerning fag-boy is: I’m not arguing or fighting. I’m minding my own business, I strongly advise that he do like-wise. I’m in a state where it will take nothing and mean nothing to impart physical harm. I’ve paid for a “crime” not committed for years. Since I’ve paid for a crime, I may as well make it worth the investment of time. And if it has to be here in Franklin, so be it. – Meanwhile, what a shame I was immobile today. A good drink of vodka would be a delight right about now. Especially on an empty stomach. – Ah 17.45. Another 15 minutes and I shall be under the covers (at long last… WARM!) – I truly AM sorry that I’m still here… truly and whole-heartedly. But there are days to come when I’ll be able to stroll… HOME! And if not? I now know the way through with-out the “aid” of the border. Quite a lovely trek too. – Quick note: I wasn’t asked if I’ve eaten. Just noting.
Fri.6.Dec: FUCK ME! Isn’t that a wonderful way to begin the day? 6.29. I was actually awake at 2.00, having gotten to bed at 20.00. But I didn’t bother to wake and all. FUCK ME! Awake. Another day of drudge and drear and breathing and all the shit that goes along with this fuck-ass-bull-shit called “life”. FUCK ME! 5.45 or so this morning and fag-boy’s shit-piece is yipping. It must have been round about 21.00 last night and the same bull-shit. I said it to Bob and there’s no need to repeat: Dixie and Ellie get the bark collar but that hick-town homo gets special treatment. I’d like to put the bark collar on the homo and get his little piece of shit going. HEY! Maybe that’s the way it works: Collar the fag-boy so it gets the shock every time its little piece of shit yips! I like that idea. But then… – Anyway, time for a morning smoke and to empty my pee-bottle. I was (and still might) going to use the bed-pan I brought in from the barn. I needed to take a shit this morning at about 3.00 but didn’t dare to wake the world. (***Which reminds me: Seems it’s quite OK to get fag-boy’s piece of shit yipping when I’m asleep… but I try not to disturb the rest of the house? BABY THERE’S A CHANGE A-COMIN’ and it begins TODAY!***) – 6.36 SMOKE TIME! YIP TIME! FUCK THE WORLD TODAY! (ps. the knee/leg seem to be much better this morning. and of course… RAIN! FUCK ME!) – No Darlin’… FUCK FUCK FUCK THE W.O.R.L.D.!!! – 6.51 Just back from a smoke. The kitchen sink is full of dirty dishes. I haven’t eaten in 2 days. Today is the 3rd day. Last night I thought: 3 days with-out water, 7 days with-out food for an average person. Me, I haven’t eaten to say that I’ve eaten since… Monday was the wake, I don’t remember. Tuesday was the funeral, I brought Lyle to the ER, didn’t eat all day. So, Tuesday, Wednesday, yesterday… Today is day 4. Workin’ on it. Anyway… this morning’s repeating thought: I have to get the fuck out of this house. I just need to get out of this house. I want so much to get back to Richford. But the only way to do that is to get the money for rent on a place. I have to check to see about weekly rentals back Home. – Today is Friday. Wednesday the storage is gone. Moving from here will be a walk with the suit case and some other luggage, and I think I can manage that. The “job” is supposed to begin on the 16th but I’m not even thinking of that. Orientation will, no doubt, be in Burlington. IF that would even be a consideration, I could use the gift card fro m Bruce and Penny to get the fare from St. Albans to Burlington. But then there’s the transport back and forth and that’s going to involve, well, getting out of the house to the 105 every morning to be at the corner by about 4.40 to get the jitney to St. Albans to catch the Link. The trip back would be the 16.30 Link to St. Albans and a walk back to Franklin. NOT. End of the line here. Meanwhile, I think I’ll work on the book… the “Max Manuscript”. – Not feeling well at all now. My stomach keeps making all sorts of squishing sounds. The kitchen sink is full of dishes. I haven’t eaten in 3 days, going on 4. Fag-boy sits on the sofa all day watching TV. I will NOT wash dishes that I didn’t use. Let them go mouldy. None of my concern. – 7.20 How funny: I do believe that I’m actually beginning to feel the effects of not eating. Water in the bowels, a sort of “removed” feeling over-all. A rather “numb” sensation through-out the body. Ah, may this be the release. And today I don’t care any longer. I just don’t care. There’s no vehicle to haul me to hospital, should anything “happen”. Just me, the zoo and fag-boy in the house. Hey. That’s all there is to say… Hey. – 18.03 Three chapters. 27 Pages. 4 slices of plain bread and a packet of Ramen noodle seasoning in hot tap water. Several mugs of coffee. Most plain. The coffee’s running out. Brief words from Nancy via e-mail. Nothing from the PO. The only time I’ve used my voice all day was to talk to Dixie. A few smoke breaks. And it’s been so cold in the room today that I’ve been wearing t-shirt. sweat-shirt, flannel shirt, Vermont hooded sweat-shirt (hood up on my head for warmth) and the black insulated hooded sweat-shirt. And I’m still cold. – Nothing to “eat” to speak of all day. It’s day 4 with-out food. I wonder how many more it will take? At this point, I might not be thinking clearly but I don’t care if I’m taken out of here in an ambulance or a hearse. At this point, nothing really matters. Nothing at all. – I’m tired. Napped for about 30 minutes today. I’m about ready to head back to bed. If I do and I wake in the middle of the night and want a smoke, I don’t much care at this point. I’ll go out for one… wake the house up. Every time I’ve gone down the stairs today, fag-boy’s piece of shit yipped at me and fag-boy said nothing. If I’m not being forced out of here, I don’t know what to say about the whole thing. But I accept the toss-out. One way or another, I’ll be out of here soon… either by walking away and going HOME or being dragged out and to the coroner’s office. Makes no difference to me any more. – But day 4 of no food! WOOHOO! And it’s getting easier to go through with this. – The book is spinning along. I’m rather kind of pleased with the progress. I’m not writing 100 pages per day, but the 27 pages so far will translate into more when put out as an e-book. – Just noticing many blind spots in my eyes. It’s been a little difficult to focus during most of the day as I typed. But on a plain white surface, I can now see the little black areas of nothing but black. Going blind? OK. At this juncture? No prob. – The job hasn’t come through in time enough to be of any good. I just go through the machinations to have something to tell Bob when he asks. (Too bad there’s nothing to tell tonight… but I don’t plan on being “up” when he gets in anyway.) – And, as for the rest of what-ever there is the rest of… I don’t give a shit. I’m going down for a smoke, will come back, get into bed by 19.00. Indeed, if routine hits as it did this morning and 6 hours later I’m awake… I was awake at 2.00 this morning but stayed in bed and went back to sleep, I’ll be awake at 1.00 tomorrow morning… and tippy-toe out for a smoke as the fag-boy’s piece of shit yips into the night. Oh well… fuck it. Just returning the (dis)respect. – 18.25 Last smoke du jour. It’s gotten so cold out there so suddenly. Ah… the North Country. Winter. December. – One note before crawling under the blankets: my right leg has been mysteriously well all day. Almost as if yesterday’s pain never happened. I wonder what it was all about. And I wonder how it managed to go away as quickly and suddenly as it came. And I wonder: why yesterday when I had specific plans for the day. I just wonder. – I note that I haven’t had a bowel movement in about 3 days. I haven’t even had the urge. Well, nothing in, nothing out. No intake, no output. Eh? – I don’t want to be here when Lyle gets back. I don’t want to be here now, for that matter. But I certainly don’t want to be here when Lyle gets back. – I have to make a “Thank You” for Penny and Bruce though. Tomorrow. I’ll get right on that tomorrow. The art supplies are in the back-pack. The back-pack is in the closet. Everything’s packed and ready for departure. Everything’s packed and ready for departure. I am ready for departure. I just refuse to be cold, uncomfortable. I refuse to suffer through my last moments. I just refuse. Selfish of me. Funny, that. In the final days, I become selfish. Oh well. I am. Too bloody-fucking bad. A shame these people never got to meet me in my better days when I cared. They’ll only remember this “me”… the one they’ll see as being nasty, rude. Oh well. Somebody’s got to think of me that way. God knows there are many, many more. Hopefully I’ll get the book out before I go. There’s a lot of truth in it now. A LOT! I’ve decided to dedicate it. To Sarah, Michael and Cyndi. After all, it’s really their story and not mine. So? So. – 18.32 and the clock ticks, and I’m off to the covers. Will probably try for a couple more paragraphs before putting the lights out on this day. – One e-mail from Nancy. Nothing to report. Nothing from the PO. Nothing to report. This day is… done. 18.40 In bed, sweats on. Hood up. Unfinished afghan on the bed. CBC on the radio. OK. Done done. – 22.47 BACK in bed at last! Bob had come in just as I was in the midst of watching CBC (and getting some of the answers correct on the game show) and asked if I’d come down-stairs. I was already in bed, in my sweats and ready to get to sleep. But, in order to keep peace… I got up, got dressed and went. He wanted to tell fag-boy and I how Lyle is doing. Well, that news isn’t all too good. It seems Lyle has some sort of staph infection (no wonder, that. He walks round the house bare-foot, with the dog shit and urine and vomit all over the place… most of which is thanks to fag-boy’s piece of shit,and of course, fag-boy won’t clean it up so Lyle steps in it. Diabetic, over-weight and stepping in dog shit. How lovely. And a staph infection? Oh my! I wonder… NOT!) and the infection is spreading up his leg and into the groin. When I asked, Bob said that the doctors are NOT thinking of amputating the leg… at this point. Lyle, meanwhile, is going all “God”. “It’s in God’s hands.” “God will take care of it.” and closing his conversations with Bob with “God bless you Bob.” God? Really? Now THERE’S a wonder. But be that as it may… if it works for Lyle… – Then, Bob asked me if I wanted to drive the 3 of us to Enosburgh or St. Albans to McDonalds for dinner. I suggested that there’s food here and that it would be quicker and better to cook. I tried to engage fag-boy in conversation for the sake of general house-hold peace and he ignored me. I ignored the fact that I was ignored and let it go at that. But THEN came the WORST part of the evening… IHAD TO SIT AT TABLE AND EAT WITH THEM… TO KEEP PEACE… FOR APPEARANCE… to avoid some stupidity and confrontation. Chicken Parmesan made with chicken patties and some kind of cheese. It’s been 4 days with-out food and I have to eat that? Yes, I took one chicken pattie and 5 tater tots, sat at table and cut it all to where it didn’t have to be chewed, just swallowed. Appearance is everything. They had a rum and Coke. Fag-boy had two. I wasn’t even offered. Fuck it really. Then, over dinner came the conversation about laundry AND, AGAIN, fag-boy tells Bob that Lyle had hung some laundry on the rods, so there was no place to hang any more. I HUNG THE SHIRTS THAT WERE IN THE DRYER WHEN I DID MY WASH ON WEDNESDAY! OR WHEN-EVER IT WAS THAT I DID THE FUCKING WASH! TWO FUCKING LIES AGAINST LYLE AND FAG-BOY JUST DOESN’T KNOW WHEN THE FUCK TO SHUT THE FUCK UP! I told Bob that I’d hung the shirts… they were Lyle’s dad’s and were being washed for… what-ever. Next item: egg nog in the fridge. Bob doesn’t drink it and apparently neither does fag-boy. The chat went to the expiration date and that they were about to toss it. So, after swallowing the dinner, I went to check. On one container (not opened) the date was the 3rd Dec. Seeing that, I brought it into the kitchen and downed 2 mugs full! Tomorrow morning I shall have more… with vodka… unless I go down during the night and get it… with vodka. Fuck that shit of throwing it out! Fag-boy took the left-over turkey so I couldn’t have any. Now it’s time to simply take matters into my own hands. No, I don’t want to actually eat, but I;ll be damned if good food gets tossed… AGAIN! Bloody fucking wasteful faggot. – Dinner done and a little TV (again, just for the ambiance and appearance of peace in the house), we all had a smoke… well, Bob and I did and fag-boy and his piece of shit joined. Bob’s exhausted and has taken a muscle relaxer (after a rum and Coke), fag-boy’s just taken his meds for the night (as I hear through my door because that’s how it is around here). – Food is NOT settling in my stomach at all. Shortly after I’d finished, I had to RUN up to the loo where it felt as if my bowels were about to explode all over the walls… but, only the smallest bit came out… PAINFULLY! So, good, I’d earlier mentioned no bowel movement? They moved. Less in my body to battle the BDM. – And now, 23.07 and it’s time for a nap. And a nap is all I intend to get. – Bob had plans to do laundry tomorrow and then we’re all going to go visit Lyle. Oh… how fun! Tra-de-fucking-bloody-la! Oh well. – Tonight, as I stood out back having a quiet smoke alone (with Dixie though, of course) I suddenly thought of what it will be like here in the house if Lyle is to lose his leg, and I wondered: Is this ANOTHER one of those “You’re here for a reason.” and this time it’s to tend to Lyle, post-surgery? I don’t mind the caring for Lyle, I DO mind the health-caring shit and I DO mind still being here and I RESENT the possibility of the sore leg on the day I’d planned on going HOME just because of this. I RESENT IT ALL, come to think of it. – Oh, and I completely forgot that today is (was) Friday. Bob will be home all day and I don’t suppose Nancy will be trying to contact storage tomorrow. So… yes, storage is a wrap. No hope any more. Gone. I need to get things together and re-plan the exit… I only have until Tuesday now… I will NOT be here on the 11th. Done deal. I can’t go through that. I CANNOT AND I WILL NOT! – Nice thought before lights-out. – JEEZUSFUCKINGKRISTE HOW I HATE MY LIFE AND RESENT LIVING!
Sat.7.Dec: 8.27 Up from since 7.00. Hot tap coffee this morning. Fag-boy awake. Before I went to sleep last night I thought I’d get up and have egg nog this morning. Not in the mood. Yes, it would taste wonderful, but it’s more “intake” and I’m not “in-taking” any more than I must. In 5 days I want to be out of here, out of this, away from it all. – This morning I had a bit of a DREAM… Something about having been stabbed to death and thrown into the ocean where I revived and was sent back to “live” again. I was on a roof-top doing something and had to defend myself against something or someone and I had a knife. But as I went to defend me against something (I didn’t see what) the building moved or something and I stabbed myself in the heart. “Oh shit! Not again.” I said and I staggered toward the edge, the brick wall on the roof-top. I thought that if I banged into the bricks, it would cause them to crumble, injuring people below. I tried not to hit the brick but did anyway and toppled over and fell into the alley-way between the two buildings… with the knife still in my heart. As I fell over, I became removed from “me” and “I” was on the roof, observing me disappear into the alley-way, but I felt the sensation of falling and dying. And I woke.
I’m not even going to try to work with this dream. Just don’t give a fuck. – This room is COLD again this morning. I’m tired of the cold in this room, sitting with hood on my head, fingers and hands always cold. I’m fed-up with this shit… this shit others call “the world”. Too cold to go HOME. Again, I will not suffer in ANY way when I leave this shit-hole thing called “Life”. For 58 years I’ve had to go through shit. I will NOT go through shit to leave. – And, of course, the day begins with the count-down to the 11th when… when I WILL BE GONE GONE GONE. – Now, the fucking PC wants me to up-date shit. I will. Probably lose files. OK. What the fuck? Who the fuck gives a shit anyway? Lose the files. Lose the storage. Lose it all. Same shit. Nobody else gives a fucking shit. I don’t either. –
12.58 Bob came by earlier this morning to ask if I’d like to go see Lyle. Well, … OK. I “should”. And so I’ve showered… for the first time in a while. Dressed in the same clothes on a clean body… a body that looks almost disgusting. – Hungry today. But when I had the opportunity to get something to eat, the very thought of putting food into this body made me physically sick. But it occurred to me: Day 5! This is day 5 of “lente famine”. Changes? Yeah, I suppose. One is that French is becoming the comfortable language. I can think easily in English, I can type comfortably in English, but when I have to open my mouth to speak, I have to think about it first. Isn’t that interesting? I feel a bit weird. A little “light” in the head. I look a little on the pale-of-palour side too. I feel the cold a bit more. But other than that, I’m depressingly continuing. maybe it’s the coffee. Maybe there’s something in there that’s keeping me going. I don’t know, but I’m not going to suffer the with-drawl from the caffeine. Although, the coffee is running out. Soon it will be no coffee, no smokes. And those are the only 2 things that I “take in” all day. Soon… nothing. Soon the storage will be gone, the coffee will be gone, the smokes will be gone… art will be gone, writings will be gone, clothes will be gone. Gone. OK. Gone. And there will… WILL be nothing left, nothing to hang on to, nothing to hang on for. And then? Then there will be absolutely NO reason for me to hang on. There will be nothing that anybody will have to be concerned with. The little bit of funds that’s in the credit union? Oh… eventually it will get to the point where it’ll gather interest and one day, years from now, somebody will stumble on the account and the funds will simply… disappear, as they do. I used to want to pass them along to somebody. But today it came to me: Even from the earliest years of my life, nobody came along to give me any help, let us say, financially, when I actually needed it. Nobody gave me a good start. Siblings? Oh yes. Apartments. Furniture. Food. Utilities. Vehicles. All got help with starting out and getting on their feet. Me? 140$ that I had to beg for. Period. And even at that, that was money that I’d given and was simply getting back. Talk about “nothing for nothing”. So, now? I’m sure that there are those who could certainly benefit from the little bit I have. But, aside from the Homeless, I don’t give a shit-fuck about the rest. I tried asking on the social media. I wasn’t worth it. I tried the “crowd-funding”. I wasn’t worth it. I mean, if I’m not worth it on global media… that just tells it all. So? So. in a matter of a little while, my body will be so depleted that it’ll take moments for pills and BDM to slam-dance their duties and have done with it. This is day 5. The longer this goes on, the better it will be for me… to go HOME and get the fuck out of this bull-shit. And I’m looking forward to that with each passing minute. I welcome it.
Meanwhile, there’s more work to be done on the manuscript. I’d really like to get that published… before I go. – 19.58 Day 5 and I made it! Only had a medium Coke! Had to… We went to visit with Lyle. His leg is a mess, ever so deep red, but much, much less swollen. But he’s in a great deal of pain. Poor guy. We were there for about 3 hours or so and en route back to the house, Bob stopped at McD’s. He had nuggets, Randy had a fish sandwich… “meal” for both. I had a medium Coke. Bob offered the “pie”, I declined. I realised that I’ve been thinking that the PO was going to give a “Health” test of pulling and lifting but that was for the Re-hab. No test for the PO! So I don’t have to worry about strength or endurance! I’m in the clear. So, day 5… Funny, but there’s a sign on the wall at McD’ “An average adult needs about 2,000 calories per day…” i don’t believe I’ve taken in 2,000 total in the past week. The only thing I notice that’s being effected at all is my vision. That’s going almost to shit. But my resolve and determination is stronger than the discomfort. I’m not buying the food… I’m not eating the food. There’ll be no cause to “talk” and by the time it might make any difference, I’ll be on the road North… to HOME. I figure I’ll have just about enough energy left in the body to get the “there” and certainly not enough to get “back”. And that’s my GOAL! If there’s any truth to any of the claims of being able to go with-out food for 7 days, at the rate I’m going, this should kick in by Tuesday or Wednesday. Wednesday is the 11th… AUCTION DAY! I’ll be out of here for that. And… I’ll be happy about it. – I feel the cold more though these days. So I hope there’ll be some warmer days coming so that my walking HOME doesn’t look too suspicious. I don’t want to be stopped. Not this time. Not the “last” time I have to cross the border. As Zulema sang it: “This time there won’t be no next time.” And… “I’ll be HOME for Christmas. You can count on me.” – Right now, feeling quite light-headed and a little woozy. But the very thought of eating anything makes my stomach churn. Even the soda disagrees. Good, good. – The room is SO COLD! It was closed off while we were gone and the cold just built into the walls. It’s going to take some time to warm up before I get into bed. So, a little TV and soon, soon, lights out. – Fuck me though, I got no writing done today. Well, a little when I get under the blankets. And tomorrow’s Sunday and Bob will be going to visit with Lyle and I’ll be in the house with fag-boy, so there”ll be time. – If shit goes well enough, I’ll take a stroll up the Middle Rd. to see if that white pine is still there. I need some cuttings to decorate the house a bit. May as well leave it “Holiday Festive”. What the fuck? Besides, the walk and the entertainment of decorating will help keep my mind off hunger. – 21.28 In bed. Said good-night. Watched a bit of TV whilst the room warmed a bit. Still chilly but I have the unfinished afghan. – Mention: en route to see Lyle we stopped at TJ Max where Bob bought a Teddy Bear for Lyle and a little shirt for it. Walking through the store was painful today. I’ve avoided stores. But today I had to look at coats, scarves, gloves, boots, scented candles, bags of chocolates, crisps, cakes, cookies, shirts, picture frames. Bob pointed out a beautiful wooden box full of paints, brushes, coloured pencils, pastels and said “That’s what you need for your art work.” Art work. I started a Hebrew “Tree of Life” with their names, in Hebrew. I was going to make an illuminated page, on velum for them. Lyle liked it so much in the sketch. I’ve saved photos of landscapes from around New England and Québec that I wanted to paint and exhibit in “l’Atelier” come the warm weather. Today I wanted to get yarn to make a scarf, a hat. Much I wanted to do that won’t be getting done. But, as the hash-tag on Twitter went today #ItsTheThoughtThatCounts. Besides, it won’t matter anyway. Within days, I’ll be a reference, a story, a tale to tell. I’ll be a part of somebody’s history, somebody who might come up in a conversation. Maybe when the planting season comes, somebody will plant something in Daisy’s Garden out back. Maybe somebody will use the garden tools I’ve put neatly in what would have been “l’Atleier”. But for now, I can”t think about that… but I can’t think about that now. (That’s a lyric to a song I used to have and can’t remember. Things are starting to slip from memory. Oh well.) The whole thing is just to the point where it’s all becoming too painful. – I just thought, or realised, the last actual time I sat and “ate” was on the 28th November… Thanksgiving dinner with Penny and Bruce. I have to make them a “Thank You” note. So this really isn’t just “Day 5”. It’s more like Day 9. But I’m no-where near the “generic” symptoms, as they were, not going through the “stages” of malnutrition. I have to check on that. It isn’t that I have enough body fat. I can see my spine. I saw it today when I got into the shower. Hmmm…. I wonder. – Tomorrow. If the weather is dry, I’m thinking I’ll head over to Richford, see Brenda. The trip will do me good in several respects. Top priority: see Richford again. Second: See Brenda again. Although she gets to the store at 15.00 and by 16.30 the sun is gone these days so it’ll be a trip back in the dark. Who cares, really? It’ll get me out of the house. Bob will be going to see Lyle which leaves me and fag-boy here and I don’t cherish that at all. So, tomorrow. – It’s really getting difficult to type with-out making all sorts of errors. Goodness, if this were being hand-written with no back-space, it would be a shit-mess. – I have to work on and finish the book before I “leave”. I want that our there. Tomorrow I’ll work it into a short story, put it out for a couple of bucks. The “royalties” will go to the credit union. Somebody will benefit from them. Too bad there’s no ATM card. Maybe I can get into St. Albans too, get a withdrawal slip, fill it out with account number and such and a signature, leave it some-where. If I knew where he is, I’d send it to Aziz. He was kind to me at the Shelter. He phoned recently. I should phone him. Maybe tomorrow. He’s a good person. He had the storage unit down from mine back when. He even got assigned my old D18! He could probably use the few dollars that will be in that account. But I don’t know where he is these days. Maybe tomorrow I can phone him, find out, send him the banque slip. I would like that very much. If I can, I will. If not… it won’t matter anyway. – Got an e-mail from Nancy this evening. Same news: tried to call, no answer. Nah… nope. I know better. There are all sorts of answering machines and devices. I’ve made those calls. I know. Nothing’s being done. Nothing can be done at this point. I can’t get the money quick enough. The new job isn’t supposed to start until the 16th. Nancy’s kind offer is only about half of the balance and they won’t take that. And if a cheque is sent, as Bob did, they just won’t bother with it. The auction will be on Wednesday. I was stupid… again. Best I stop being stupid and the best way to do that is “my way”. – Checking the weather forecast now. Monday’s high is 2°, 80% chance of snow. That’s the warmest it’s going to be for the next 14 days. Wednesday’s high, minus 6 and Thursday’s high, minus 10. Minus 5 for the rest. Cold. I’ll have to re-check the clothing situation. It’s not so much about being HOME as it is not provoking any serious questioning at the border. I’ll check the crossing points as well. There’s a way across with-out going through all the bull-shit. I know a couple of wooded crossings. Just really have to decide which one. – Ick! Just coughed and it tastes like blood. Ick! – Anyway, it’s time for sleep. Been doing some reading. Thankfully I have the two BDMs. The readings are, well, could be depressing. But I’ve got a great kick-starter. I’ve got a ticket to ride, and I don’t care. – Good-night Irene. My hands are too cold to keep typing. – THE LYRICS! HOW FUNNY! BUT I CAN’T THINK ABOUT THAT NOW:
And some-how this one got caught in there. What a laugh:
Sun.8.Dec: 9.15 And just back from smoke. And not feeling well this morning. “Empty”. Body and soul. Empty. – Thank you to Bruce and Penny to work on today. The book. Things. Things to be occupied with. Things. Things to distract. 3 days. Only 3 days. Helpless. Just so helpless. The word takes on a real meaning now. I can’t give myself any help. I have no other help. Self or others. Help-less. Hopeless. Less. None. – Time to get busy. Busy with something. Something that doesn’t permit thinking. Thinking about anything present. Concentration on the thank you note. Concentration on the drawing of the note. Concentration on the book. The book. Recounting and re-living the story. Concentration on the formatting. Concentration on the cover-art. Concentration on something else. – In 3 days it will all be gone. POUF! Gone. – Sunday. 8th December. Gone. – Goodbye. Done. – Resolution: There will be no more checking e-mails any more. No sense. No use. No bother. I deleted the crowd-funder for l’Atelier. The “crowd” didn’t give a shit. Have to get into St. Albans tomorrow, get the money back to Nancy.. If I can make the loop in a day, I can go to St. Albans in the morning, then try the 26 miles from there to Richford. The Rail Trail. Maybe. Maybe something will happen and the weather will be good. – Typing slowly this morning. The room is bitter cold. My finger are so cold. – Slept with the radio on last night. CBC. Français. Toute de la nuit. J’sais pas. Je rien compris actuellement. Mais, ça me fait rien, actuellement. Ça me fait rien. Pantoute. – Ben. C’est ça pour le moment. – J’ai mal… j’ai mal.. partout!- 12.38 File under “He’s not worth it…” I just went down to have a smoke to find Bob and fag-boy dressed and on their way to the front door. They’ve gone to visit Lyle. When I got to the foot of the stairs, Bob asked “Are you going with us?” Nobody asked if I’d wanted to go before they got ready. They primped and dressed and such and never said a word. I’ve been in the room, door open (to let in some warmth) and dressed, saved for shoes, but nobody said a word about going to visit Lyle. Very much like yesterday when I was asked if I’d wanted to go, I got dressed, save for shoes, whilst they primped and dressed and then, as they were getting ready to walk out the door, Bob called up “Are you ready to go?” Well, truth is, I have things I need to attend today. But, had I not gone down-stairs at the moment I did, they’d’ve left and gone… with-out a word. Yes, file under “He’s not worth it…”
Found this amongst notes whilst searching for some other info. “Many people need you!” Oh please just fuck you! Yes, it’s all about OTHER people and shit on me. “people need you” I’ve always been there to DO for other people and when I need, nobody wants to DO even shit for me. So, if “Many people need” me? Fuck the fuck off! And good luck when I’m not here. You’ll have to find somebody else to shit the fuck all over. I’ll soon be dead, you won’t know where so you won’t be able to shit on my corpse. Sorry to disappoint y’all. nancy@paintgirl1958 said: 2012 16 August21 06 18
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Read almost every word……worried about you, no BDM please! Please my friend, I need you! Many people need you! Don’t give up.
(I AM SO FUCKING FED-UP WITH AND FUCKING TIRED OF THE BULL-SHIT OF PEOPLE NEEDING ME AND WHEN I NEED PEOPLE THEY CAN’T GIVE A FUCK-ALL SHIT ONE WAY OR ANOTHER ABOUT ME. YOU KNOW WHAT? FUCK YOU! AND THANKS SO MUCH FOR THE TIME YOU ALL GAVE WHEN *I* NEEDED ANYBODY! FUCKING SELFISH FUCKS! AND NO NANCY, IT ISN’T “ALL” ABOUT YOU. OK?)
19.48 I had 2 slices of pizza tonight and it’s true: my stomach is smaller and it won’t digest solids! So “starvation” has begun and I’m thrilled. – 15.39 JUST OFF THE LINE WITH AZIZ! IT WAS SO GOOD TO TALK WITH HIM! OLD FRIEND FROM THE SHELTER! He’s doing OK these days, living in Richmond! Imagine? I told him: I left D18, you moved in. I left Queens, you moved in. Now, when will you move to VT? and he laughed. He sounds so good though. And it really did my old heart a world of good to hear his voice. We talked about the storage place. ALL the people we knew there are gone! He and others have been having SO much trouble now. And he too says that there’s no getting through to anybody because nobody answers the phone! – I told him about writing the book. He wanted to buy it but I told him I could get him a copy so he can have it for free. HEY! It’s a “Homeless” thing. We talked about that for a while too. He agreed: it’s not easy talking to people who’ve never been Homeless. They don’t understand any of how we feel, or how it never goes away once you’ve been there. He too had trouble talking with people who didn’t come from a Shelter… but he too is working through that. So it isn’t just me. We talked about me coming to VT and my experiences in the shelters here. We talked about all the differences in different cities and states. And we talked about the weather, and work, and jobs, and immigrants and refugees and all sorts of things. It would be nice to see him before I leave. But, it’s one of those things. He wants us to keep in touch at least once a month. I’ll ring him before I “leave”. But it was SO good to talk with him today. – 22.24 No word from Nancy today. OK. Give up the dead horse. (I mean the issue of storage. It’s dead. It’s going no-where.) You know what? I don’t give a fuck. I keep getting kicked in the face and putting my face back out there for more. Even Eduardo said it. I hate to admit: he was right. I keep telling me not to listen to other people no matter what and then I listen and I get all stupid and hopeful and it all always ends the same. Just like the old man said… “not worth it”. OK. – Today I actually ate, more out of curiosity than much else. Bob and Randy came back with pizza. 1,5 slices and I was STUFFED! Then, I no sooner finished eating and I HAD to run to the loo to move my bowels! EMERGENCY! So, nothing came out but WOW was it ever PAINFUL! This is getting interestinger and interstinger. – Bob was talking that he’s going to need help when Lyle gets back. Lyle’s going for a line tomorrow. They’re sending him into BTV and then they say they’ll bring him back up here. He needs stronger antibiotics! (I wonder if Bob will finally wake up and stop fag-boy’s piece of shit from shitting and peeing on the floors around here now. I doubt it.) Lyle was planning on being home tomorrow. Not happening. Anyway, tonight I figure they can have “help” until the 21st. The 21st is WINTER! I happen to LOVE WINTER! Every Winter I’ve wanted to go HOME. This year I CAN… and I can actually complete “Epilogue”… which I still have to finish writing anyway. On Wednesday this week it won’t mean shit to anybody anyway. And in the meantime? SHUT-DOWN! My stuff here is packed away. Everything is ready to be tossed. I can even toss stuff in the meanwhile… put it out with the trash. And when Lyle gets back, I can give a hand until I go. Win-Win. – The bit of food I ate today is trying to kill me. – Oh… 10z today. I had the house to myself for most of it. So that’s functioning OK. Not the greatest, but not bad at all. So I’m not “that” far off… yet. Good news and bad. – I got nothing accomplished that I’d wanted to do today. I suddenly got stuck in research and still trying to clear that Margot bull-shit off my name on the on-line searches. That little fuck. If I could get to him HIM I’d actually get gratification from breaking his liar bones with my own hands. Only 2 people in the world I feel that way about. – I/the room have inherited/adopted a new plant. Penny had put a little potted holly on her Mum’s grave but it survives only to 0°F (and we’ve had that already) so Bob brought it to the house tonight. He and I agreed that the plant needs to “transition” from cold to hot and this is the best room for that. So… it now sits in the front window… quite cool there and yet, not freezing. More and more “life” in this room… Plants all over eventually Life comes in, life goes out. – Speaking of “Life”: baby kitten came into the room tonight, I had her up on the bed… she frolicked a bit and then fell asleep here! Precious. I made a deal: her life for mine. I have to make good… she’s doing so well. One of us now has to go… it’s to be me. – Stomach is singing its song. Food is NOT settling well. I’m going to sleep now. MUCHMUCH and MANYMANY to do in the morning! MUSTMUST nap tonight. – Tonight? I really am back to being ALONE.
(approimately 18.30) I’ve never been one who could handle no communication in some way, so forgive me for belabouring an issue.
I don’t recall the event, but my Mum told me of a time when, at the age of about 13 or 14, I snapped, tried to hide or something, by trying to stuff myself behind the toilet, under the tank and all I kept crying was “I can’t take any more of this! Please help me! I can’t take any more of this!”
She felt so helpless because she just didn’t know what to do except call the ambulance. But she was so afraid that I’d be put away (since she’d worked for the American Psychiatric Association and knew too well what the general opinion of the world was toward people who “couldn’t take any more”) and she didn’t want that.
Seems my father saw me and was disgusted. When my Mum said “He’s falling apart and crying for help.” my father’s response was “I’m not wasting my hard-earned money on that!” I wasn’t worth it.
Later on in years, my Mum admitted that she was concerned about the effect it would have on my siblings if they had to grow up knowing that their oldest brother had been put away. Imagine the stigma! So, there you have it: even the parent I think and thought of so highly and loved, admired and respected didn’t believe I was worth it.
Through my life-time, I did all I could to make sure that, if it was at all in my ability, I’d see to it that nobody ever felt that they weren’t worth it. From earliest child-hood through to even recently when we here were discussing how there’s no opportunity for anybody in this town. So, when Bob and Lyle allowed me to take the back barn space to use as a work studio and then we talked about opening a little gallery/gift shop?!? I worked long and hard, even when my back and legs were on the brink of snapping. But I got the space cleared and thought it would be a wonderful little space not only for me but for others in the area to sell hand-made wares. I had the space! But I just needed a bit of a boost… a little help.
Before I came to VT I asked Marc Horvath what the shelters were like here. He didn’t know. Seems when he came to VT to be with his “homeless friends” and throw socks at them (in the month of October), he got funds (via Twitter and such) to afford a night or 2 in the local Hilton! Imagine that! Come to see your “Homeless friends”, toss them socks and then go eat and sleep in the Hilton? He pulled the same shit in NYC when I met him. BUT, even though this lying hypocrite pulled that, HE was worth it.
Me? I asked for some retweets, a mouse click. Not worth it.
I went to crowd funding to get maybe a dollar here and there to help with supplies to work with, stuff to make the back barn a little comfortable, especially in the Winter. Not worth it.
Needed help via phone calls when it came to storage. Partially worth it.
You know? After a while the truth comes around and shows us, like drawing pictures, that there’s a terrible imbalance. When I can take time from my life and my work and go out of y way to go with people to help them, to DO things to help others, to help my patients even when my sciatica was miserable, to run errands when I was exhausted… the list goes on but I won’t. I’ll just say that…
No, I don’t expect others to go the “extra length”. But now it’s come to my attention that, for the most part, if people can “throw socks at me”, they will. But then they’ll toddle away, like Marc Horvath, touting their own magnificence and brilliance as if that’s it, the end, all it takes. It’s come to my attention that as long as I can joke and be jolly, all’s well. But DO much, especially when I’m in so much need that I actually ASK for help?
I’m not worth it.
So, 58 years of “not worth it” and I’m fed up with it.
I’m not whining. I’m not pissing all over the social media about how cold I am, how I have nothing to wear, how the world owes me. And I won’t. But fuck me if it doesn’t come to be that as soon as I even mention something that’s not too cool with my life… even my Twitter time line goes silent! WOAH! OK then. Stuff money into Marc Horvath’s pockets. Stuff money and support into total strangers who CLAIM to DO and then it’s proven they don’t. But keep the helping going for them… but me? Not worth it.
I need a bit of help to get on my feet and people run like hell to get away!
I needed help in the Shelter. “Help” was offered… even in writing. But who got me out? ME! Alone! With-out even being tossed a pair of socks.
All I can say is: Right. Gotcha.
If the efforts are being made to make me feel like totally worthless shit, I offer my most sincere congratulations because, even where my father failed, the rest of the world has succeeded. My father told me that it was a crime that I was breathing the limited air on the planet. He told me that it was terrible that I ate food that others could benefit so much more from. And in my adult-hood I’ve prety much been told the same.
So jsut what the fuck does the world expect me to do? Sing and dance and la-dee-dah? Let it ALL roll off my back and act like it isn’t being said, thought or done? Seriously? I get accused of theft. I have somebody take an order of protection out against me. I have somebody accusing me of lying. And yet not once does anybody come to talk with me, to sit with me, to walk or bike with me to get to know me. It’s easier to form an opinion, be judgemental, toss socks and walk away.
Am I angry? You call it “angry” but that’s because you don’t take the time to know how I feel… because… Not worth it. You judge me by your own feelings and such. You and all the rest. Well then OK. Have fun with that. Call me “mentally ill” and call me “bi polar” and call me what-ever it is that makes you all feel better. Enjoy that. Soon enough you’ll be looking for somebody else to knock around. Although I know, because I’ve seen and heard: Those who survive speak ill of the dead as well. But the dead don’t give a shit.
Mon.9.Dec: 22.39 What a day. I’m typing after a wonderful drink of much vodka and a little ginger ale. I was left alone to watch Sleepy Hollow tonight.
–
Much to get done right now but I’ll “note”:
-Thank you to Penny and Bruce almost complete
I drew a “Thank You” in the colour markers I managed to salvage from storage, on the velum that I managed to salvage from storage. It isn’t turning out too bad. And, they didn’t have to be so generous. I’m thankful and grateful to them for their kindness and a hand-made note is only a little part of that gratitude.
– Took Bob to doctors. He’s sick every Monday.
Bob came home from work at about 9.30 this morning. He was so sick that he had to have somebody from the job drive him back. 2 guys, one drove his car and the other, a company truck. Then I took him into St. Albans to the doctor. The MD prescribed something for him, bu his insurance company says they think he should be on something else! Insurance companies playing doctor? What the fuck is THAT about? Bob was saying that there’s a pattern to his being sick: Mondays. Either Sunday night or Monday morning. Headaches then terrible nausea with vomiting. He’s had trouble with one ear too. I wonder if he didn’t get a flea in his hear from sleeping with the dogs on the bed. But this evening, he had chicken soup. Seemed to be a little bit better. I hope he’ll be OK. Especially with Lyle in hospital.
– Got glue and smokes at Rite Aid (with my 718 are code discount card… Rockaway)
After the doctor, we’d gone to Rite Aid to get the prescript that the insurance company wouldn’t pay. Whilst there, I got an Elmer’s glue and 2 packs of smokes on the gift card from Penny and Bruce. The smokes were 75¢ off each! And, I got my Rite Aid discount with my telephone number… the 718 number! Still a little connection to Rockaway… I miss that store today.
– Ate quite well. It now makes me brutally ill.
Randy made frankfurters for dinner tonight, with noodles. I had 4 franks and 2 helpings of noodles. I’ll be eating when I can for a while. The weather’s supposed to be getting REAL cold and I’ll need the little bit of fat to keep warm for the trip HOME (Winter and Cyndi’s birthday). But it made me REALLY SICK! My stomach does NOT like food in it. They say that happens with starvation.
– Quiet in the house.
It was quiet in the house tonight. I sat with the guys and watched some TV. Got to see Sleepy Hollow. Even had a couple of twits on-line about it. There are some folks who want to go. I told them about Tarrytown. How strange to know where it actually is. Then I leanrt that the show is filmed in NC. Oh well. Imagine that. Explains why, tonight, they were talking “Christmas” and the trees were full of leaves. And there was a mention of a “12:44 train”… THAT USED to be from Beacon to GCT but recently, it leaves University Hgts. Imagine that (I checked).
– Went “blind”… the whole world went black out back at smoke. I came out of it with tears in my eyes.
Earlier, I went out for a smoke and as I looked to the back yard, the world went BLACK! as if I was going blind. It happened twice tonight. Maybe it’s a sign. I hope so. May my sight go as I lay dying… soon!
– Nancy has proven to be exactly like all the rest. “Too bad about storage but it had to happen.”
Imagine! Fucking write-off! And then on Twitter she told somebody she had to settle some things with a “friend”. Fucking whore! “Friend”? You moron piece of shit! you don’t know what the fuck a “friend” is. may you never drop dead and live to feel the pain you’ve caused… no matter how. Last time I wished such a thing. my sister’s son died. I pray for you as I prayed for my sister… So be it.
– She didn’t eve try! Just throw a couple of dollars at the poor slob.
Truth is, she never did any of what she said she’d do. She didn’t even TRY! Too busy with her self and her little self-pity party. Go to Hell! BEFORE you die.
– Separating from NY and all tonight.
I have to. I just have to. At least for the next few days. I wonder what effects the BDM will have. No matter. I have to separate from NY now. There’s nothing left there. NOTHING! Thanks Nancy! I trust you. What a fucktard I am!
– Daisy’s plant on little ladder in east window tonight.
This morning I’d gone to the barn to get a little dish for the holly that Penny had put on her Mum’s grave but it had to be brought in before the real cold snap sets in. So I got a little flower pot to put under the orange tree, the dish for under Daisy’s holly, and I brought in a small step-ladder to put it on as a plant stand. It looks rather cute. This room probably hasn’t been this “lived-in” in years. I hope Daisy approves… this was her room.
– I’m at the end. There’s nothing to live for any more.
I think this all says it rather nicely.
– Auction on Wednesday. Nobody helped (Bob and Lyle tried. Bless them. Truly. Bless them!)
And that covers the day. – 24.09 Cleaned my social media accounts this evening. Blocked what I could. The rest? Fuck it! Now that I have NOTHING of ANY of what I’d re-built from the time I got to VT… thanks to all the bull-shit promises from the arse-pit who’ll throw cash at a person, make promises to people and then fuck them the hell off and out. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Fuck me, it’s empty tonight. Just empty. Dead. Dead. Dead. I’ll be sure to leave many “Thank you’s” about in case anybody wants to know why I went “HOME”. You fucktard liar bitch. Thanks SO SO much. Usurious qunt! Fucking tell me you’ll “help” and you sit back and so shit. You’re husband should be proud of you. Typical shit. Really. I’m just glad I got to see the real you when I did. Trusted you? Yes I did. Fuck me. But I see the truth and I’ll be sure to keep it in mind as I breath last breaths… You’re no different from my “family” especially my sister. “Too bad about storage”. You heartless bitch. I’ll pray, as I stop breathing, that you get to live the pain you’ve caused. – I end today’s entry with that plea.
Tue.10.Dec: 00.25 Ever so tired. A bit hungry too. Just can’t seem to be able to get over the betrayal. Can’t cope with the fact that I was so completely stupid and trusting again. What a fucking year this has been. The trip back to NYC to be slammed in the fucking face by Schmulik. But I never would have expected it from Nancy. Just goes to show: I still am that stupid. Trust. What a fuck. Really. Just have to focus now. Focus on what will ultimately bring ME Happiness and Peace. No more considering others. No more of that bull-shit. I just can’t assimilate or rationalise this shit. Just can’t. Betrayal. Flat, out-right betrayal. No more. No more putting me in that position where this will ever happen again. Well, let’s just see if there is a “karma”. Let’s just see. – Randy’s still awake too. I just went for a smoke. Randy’d gone to bed at 21.00 and when I opened the door to go down for a smoke, he’s still awake. Life… a fuck. – I’ll fill in the “notes” from yesterday. I don’t want to turn the light out just yet. So much to do in the morning. But I’m too tired right now to get to it. There’s “art” to be done… thank you notes and the illumination for Bob and Lyle. But I can’t do the detail work tonight. – Have to get into St. Albans too. Get that 50$ back to the bitch. Fuck-arse. I don’t want anything from her at all. Tomorrow, I’ll put her shit into the burning barrel, then toss the ashes somewhere. No more connections to that shit in my past. No more connections to anything… really… no more connections to anything. Slut-whore-bitch. Thanks for the lies, you betraying, inconsiderate, nasty-ass piece of shit. With my last breath I’ll be praying that you actually feel the pain you’ve caused. May you too lose all that’s dear to you. That’s my prayer. – 0.50 just brought up some dinner and it tastes like soap! Bile. Bile is coming up now. Appropriate. I wish I could bottle and send it to the cause.
TUESDAY 10 DECEMBER 2013
9.03 This morning I have a cry so deep an so intense that tears won’t fall and the sound is so intense that it’s inaudible. I open my mouth and throat to let it out and… silence. – Cyndi: tossed me and my life aside with a simple e-mail message… “I’m so sorry…” Nancy follows with “too bad… it had to happen…” The pattern is there. And the lesson is there. And today comes the point in my existence that I never wanted to experience: TRUE DISTRUST OF EVERY-ONE! – I suppose Cyndi wasn’t happy with the way she’d left things originally, so she invited me into her home to put the final screws to me. Nancy, likewise with her being so glad that we could work through our differences. And to think: Cyndi… good little “Christian” and Nancy… good little Buddhist. Ah… Emmie… the “Born Again”. These are the self-proclaimed followers of allegedly “good” people with a firm belief that we are to be kind, compassionate and help others. These are, in actuality, the people for whom the word “HYPOCRITE” was formulated, “LIAR” became part of the vocabulary. These are the people who could commit cold-blooded murder, CAN steal the very life from any living creature and justify doing so. These are the “onco-genes” in the over-all “body” of all of human-kind, lurking in the routine and mundane existence of Creation, waiting for the one opportune moment when the conditions are ripe and they can mete out their destruction, when they can flourish and devour every bit of goodness, pull the life-force from the body and soul of their host. These are precisely… PARASITES. No symbiotic co-existence between “Host and Parasite”. Rather, just as cancer ultimately kills its host, so too these two… and all others like them. The effects of their presence is, in every sense, exactly the same as the activation of a cancer cell. They pull the spirit from the very core of the individual; cause rancid, fetid, foul decay, pain and suffering;ultimately they destroy. BUT, un-like cancer, that dies along with its host, these two and they’re kind break away to move along to else-where in the body-general of Creation, to latch onto another unsuspecting, Trusting host, to drain and destroy, again and again. Cancer… apathetic, heartless, cruel, torturing, terrorising, murdering… cancer.
Cyndi Mack, Nancy Lloyd (nancy@paintgirl1958 said: 2012 16 August21 06 18 Read almost every word……worried about you, no BDM please! Please my friend, I need you! Many people need you! Don’t give up. Exactly as a parasite would react to the threatened demise of its host. You need to drain the trust and joy out of others and so, you do what-ever is necessary to keep your host breathing… even for a little while longer. CANCER! – 9 December 2013: 20.20 – Sorry about storage, I know you are coping, but its still too bad it has to happen.), Eduardo Wilder… CANCER… PURE AND SIMPLE…
and to my own amazement, I can forgive Silas Burton.
9.56 Social media is done and cleaned-up. Blocked, deleted, and such. Any e-mails coming in to me from Nancy and her oncological ilk will simply be deleted before they get posted… in any account. Too bad I can’t just block this Journal, but then, it’s rather better this way. Nanc? If you happen by… I’m praying… that you actually experience and feel the pain you’ve caused. And the last time I prayed this hard, my sister lost her precious baby boy. – That’s all for now. I have some art work to complete. Then? A stroll… there’s an agenda for returning HOME that needs to be addressed. – PS: Fuck you Nancy Lloyd! Fuck YOU AND your little troop of parasitic CANCERS! – 19.28 Thank you note to Dan drawn and sent. I did a rather appropriate sketch for this note and got it written. Took it over to the PO to post right away since it’s rather past due. While there, I got to speak with Jennifer, the PM. I asked her if she was still looking for the PSE and she said “No. I understand the hired somebody for that spot.” I introduced my-self. We chatted for a while. She gave me some really disturbing news though: She doubts I’ll be in the next orientation because I’m to come in with the new PM and the PO doesn’t move people round the holidays. I’ll be out of work until next month! THEN she tells me that orientation takes place in WILDER! That’s all the way the fuck down in the Southern part of the state! Over 100 miles away! 2,5 hour drive! And I don’t have a car. And Bob can’t give me the car for that. Not to mention the cost of gas! I’m all but screwed! Well, I wanted to be out of all of this come Winter anyway. It’s futile. It all just really is. I wonder, often, how the fuck this shit can happen to one person: to be so close and yet, something fucks it up. Silas used to say that he couldn’t believe it either: “It’s like all the bad karma in the world suddenly surrounds you. You don’t do anything to deserve it, it just comes at you!” Yup. It does. The other night I wondered if I’m not actually a reincarnation of Kafka and Woolf. It seems to be so. Anyway… Once again… You know, I really should just get into getting fucked up the arse. It happens anyway. – Nancy posted a little Nasty-Nancy post on Twitter. “You’re blocked. You know who you are.” and something about knowing “the truth”. Yeah darling, you know the truth and I have the e-mails to prove that “your truth” is a crock of bull-shit in the grandest form. But, you know what? You’re not worth the effort to battle with. You’re feeble. You’re a liar. And I’ve neither time to use. So… Onward I go. Happy riddance. (Oh, by the way: just the fact that you’re reading this… I know you are… is even more proof. You just HAVE to see to make certain that your bull-shit worked the way you wanted. Well, the truth of the matter is… it just may well have and when my dead arse is discovered one day, off the side of the road or on a hill-top, when the snows melt and the warmth of the Northern Summer wafts the scent of my rotting flesh on the breeze… they can all thank you… since you’re THE ONE who gave me the final blow to get me HOME. I don’t have to put particulars here. Your address is on the boxes I’ve packed my shit in… and put into the barn.) – I’m in awe. After passing and entire day of no naps and Hoovering and cleaning and all sorts of domesticity, Randy cooked dinner… for US… for the both of us! (Yes, and for Bob too, but Bob wasn’t home.) And he called me when it was ready! Shit on me, eh? OK. Pork chops, but hey! Scalloped potatoes, peas. I had a chop and 2 helpings of potatoes and peas. I ate! I actually ate! (And I discussed Nancy and the events. That tid-bit will become house-hold.) – Bob came in at about 18.00 or so. He’s feeling better today. I’m quote glad. I wonder how he feels, having us in the house after 4 years of just Lyle. And I feel like shit because I’m really not contributing. But he doesn’t seem to see it that way. I Lyle is going to BTV tomorrow to have the line put in and once he’s stable, they’ll be sending him home. I suppose it’s going to go back to what Bob told me a while back when I got here: It’s comforting to know that somebody with Nursing experience is in the house to watch over Lyle whilst he’s (Bob) gone. Well, I’ll do what I can for as long as I can. Of course. – And so, as the day draws to a rapid end (gotta love the North… the days snap by and become night SO quickly!) the synopsis, the summary of it all is….
I’m just too tired right now to give a shit about anything… ANYTHING. JUST TOO BLOODY-FUCKING TIRED TO GIVE A SHIT! The 21st is coming, the first day of Winter… my sister’s birthday… and I’m REALLY looking forward to the PEACE that WINTER HONESTLY brings…. – 21.49In bed. All of us are in bed. Randy spent the entire day cleaning the house and is looking forward to continuing tomorrow. Me? I went down-stairs to get a bottle of water and a drink of water and came up with a bit of vodka. Tomorrow morning at 10.00… I have no reason to linger. Hey. Betrayed again. Why the fuck? Nothing like some qunt to tell you that you’re a worthless piece of shit. Eh? Fuckall fucktard. But, I asked for it. I actually went out of my way to ask for this shit. So? So. Sometimes we get what we deserve. I trusted. What a complete fucktard *I* am ! So before it happens again (and even Schmulik knew and knows… it will happen again because that’s just the way I am) CHECK-OUT! HOME HOME HOME! – It’s snowing tonight. I used to SO LOVE the snow and the Winter. USED to. How time and events have changed that. – Earlier this evening, I started to take a walk up the Middle Rd to see about that white pine. My hands got too cold and even my toes started to burn with the cold. My sneakers are actually worn through. No work-boots because the soles fell completely off of those. Nothing warm for hands or feet. Nothing left now, really. Not even a nice set of clothes. Gone. Art. Art supplies. The silk screen. Gone. Nothing. Just nothing. “I’m sure you’re coping.” Tonight I pray you find yourself in this very same situation… one way or another. – No. I’m not going to be “kind” about this shit any more. I’ll pray with heart and soul that others experience this. I WANT them to. – But it’s time to let it go for now. I’ll finish the entry for today and get on with what-ever. – Tomorrow is going to be Hell… just Hell. I’m thinking I’ll start the BDM to see how they taste. And then? Then there’s anti-freeze in the barn. A little at a time and one day WHAM! And, I’m to understand that in small doses it has no distinct flavour. When taken in larger quantities, it actually has a sweet flavour. Tomorrow, I’ll go check it out. But then, no more booze. That only counters it. So, a little bit at a time, a little during the day, a little before bed… I’ll have to look up how long. Then, a stroll HOME and on the road, beside the road, in the woods… AU REVOIR! (Thanks Nancy, for the encouragement to finally check out, leave. Thanks for the one little “item” I needed, the one final shove. I guess, after all, you ARE a “friend”.)
Wed.11.Dec: 10.15
I should be dead
and very much at Peace yet here I am
alone and cold
resenting each breath
in a world of
brutal
apathy
so very sick
at heart and soul
alone and cold
in a world of
brutal
apathy.
23.29: I have no connections to NY anymore.
I have nothing of my past, none of my work, nothing purchased, nothing of any meaning. Nothing.
I am dead.
I have a job… locally.
I have a 400 mile trip that I must make, I have 3 days, 200 miles away that I must take to keep this job.
I am empty tonight.
I have Bob and Lyle wiling to help me.
I am empty. I am afraid. I am… alone.
I mixed an ale with some vodka as I washed the dishes… alone… tonight.
I am afraid. I am alone.
I am dead.
I have nothing… nothing… nothing.
Nancy? You have meted out your punishment. You are punishing me for having put any trust and faith in you. Obviously, this is what you wanted, what you needed to do. You needed to punish me… for trusting you. You needed to punish me for trusting anyone at all. And you have succeeded. I have nothing. I am in so much pain that I can’t even cry. I am in so much pain that I feel as if I’ve imploded into myself. I am so empty. I have nothing. I am empty. You can go on to your next victim now. You have succeeded. Your work here is complete. I am empty. I am alone. I have nothing. I am nothing. You have succeeded.
As for this day? Everything just compounded as the day went along. The morning was as if nothing had happened. There was no sense in mourning, there was no sense in saying anything at all to Randy, since he and I were the only two in the house. So I made like all was as usual. At noon, I put together two loaves of bread. I added the boiled yams to it though… before they got tossed into the trash. Hey! They turned-out pretty OK, save the fact that one baked to the sheet. But I got that off with little damage, and Randy had some with dinner (he cooked mac’n’cheese, chicken, corn… very good too… a little on the “hot” side, but filling and feeding). I had a slice or 2. Yes, it was good. – But before that… OK. RIOT TIME! The storage got auctioned at 10.00. At noon I baked bread. Then this evening, round about 16.00 I checked the e-mails to see if there was any word from the PO and… AND… THERE IT WAS! The notice with the time and place for “orientation”… I’ve been trying to figure how I’d get to Wilder VT (100 miles away) for it but it’s not being held there. Oh no! PORTLAND… MAINE!!! 200 MILES AWAY! BUT the funniest part is that it’s in Scarborough, which is close to Portland AND just up from SACO and OLD ORCHARD! Janice Flood country! Of ALL the places on Earth! SO! I went nuts. Checked the transport to and from: Greyhound… NINE hours! The bus leaves BTV airport at 2.15 on Sunday morning and stops for a change-over in Boston. BOSTON! Arrives in Portland at 11.15. So I’ll have to take the bus on SUNDAY and figure what to do for Sunday night. The PO has a deal with a hotel there, 47$ for Monday night, but I’d have to pay the extra for Sunday night. How fun! The bus to Portland is 86$… ONE WAY! It gos to Portland and I’ll have to find my way to Scarborough. THEN, the hotel is just over 7 miles from the PO centre so I’ll either be walking (in the Winter weather with only a hooded sweat-shirt, no boots or gloves) or hope for some kind of a bus or something. Even at that, I don’t have the money for all of this! Solution? CrowdFunding! And I already know that that’s not going to fly. But, I’ll try it anyway. What the fuck? I’m not thinking of being here for the 25th anyway. So, the investigation is good to keep busy whilst I wait for the break to get back HOME. It’s just another attempt, another opportunity for the “crowd” to tell me what my father always said: “He’s not worth it.” – I got to speak with Fran this evening. The oddest thing: We started the conversation (I had actually phoned her to see if she had any input on how the fuck to get to Portland…) as we usually do, with all the generalities, and she said sh had something to tell me, I said I had something to tell her. Well, I let her tell first… Devon is moving.. out of VT… and to… BIDDEFORD… MAINE! AND… HE’S LEAVING FOR A FIRST MOVE OF HIS THINGS ON FRIDAY! BIDDEFORD! I haven’t heard of Biddeford since Janice Flood! LOOP! Life LOOPS AGAIN! Anyway, she didn’t offer, didn’t say, didn’t mention, didn’t hint that I might get a lift with Devon. But he’s bringing his kids with. So, with a car of kids and his belongings, I wouldn’t imagine that there’s going to be any room for me anyway. Besides, he’s leaving VT on Friday and will be returning on Sunday, so that really wouldn’t do me much good anyway. Even if he’d offer a place to stay, Biddeford isn’t with-in walking distance… well, no a “do-able” walking distance. But of all the things! The oddness of the thing… both of us heading for Maine at the same time. (Yes, I’m rather sad that he’ll be leaving VT. So too, is Fran because, as she says, she’ll be very much alone and stranded again. She’s been depending on him for transport to market and such. If I was thinking about anything “long-term”, even as far as my “life” in general, I’d feel pushed to getting a car, even to bring her on her errands. Yes, of course… here I go again: drive from here to there to run errands, at the cost of gas and time and wear-and-tear, not to mention, the Winter road conditions. Trust… and another “woman” who could be destructive. I’m a shit4brains do the very death… of me.) But, no matter, it was good to chat with her… for almost an hour. What ended the chat was when Randy called up that he’d prepared dinner! (THAT I find rather interesting because of the tension between us of late and yet, he prepares dinner for “us”. Well, I’d do the same so…) Oh… one thing of particular note: I had the thought just as Fran mentioned it… about finding a place to stay whilst in Portland. Now, I think of it as peculiar, odd, strange and coincidental, and I find it rude, insulting, heartless and cruel at the same time but, I thought and she gave voice to the notion that, when I get to Portland, perhaps I should look into a SHELTER there! Imagine? Well, as I think on it, here we go: *****ANOTHER PERSON WHO THINKS OF ME AS WORTHY AND FINE WITH BEING IN A HOMELESS SHELTER! FLASH-BACK TO MARGOT! “You can always go to the shelter…” Yup. “not worth it”. Good enough for a Homeless shelter. I DO believe I MUST keep this in mind… burnt into my mind… and heart… and right down to the very core of my soul and spirit. Something that must never be forgotten. Even to the fact that when I mentioned that all of storage was gone, the matter was… rather… “Oh well…” JUST LIKE “I’M SO SORRY…” AND “TOUGH ABOUT STORAGE BUT IT HAD TO HAPPEN…” *****
– Switching to better and incredible and, well, rather shocking… and I don’t know how to handle this: Bob came home this evening, had dinner, gave the news that Lyle will be coming home tomorrow evening. After dinner, Bob and I went out for a smoke and as we did, we chatted. “I wish I’d known that storage wouldn’t accept a partial payment because we could afford to have covered the whole thing and we would have paid it for you.” That though NEVER crossed my mind: to ask them for such a thing! And here it was… the offer! OK. Late, but the offer came! And he said: “It made me sick when you just said that it happened (the auction). It hurt.” I told him that it was the second time I trusted somebody with “storage” and the second time this shit happened. Told him how Schmulik yelled at me for being so stupid about people who will kick me in the face and then, when I learn that those very people need help, I go right back… I told him it’s because that’s the way I am, because that’s the way I was raised, that it’s a compulsion to help when help is needed. He added that I need to look-up car rentals locally, that they’ll front the cost of a rented car and that he and Lyle know that I’m good for it! I didn’t ask. He discussed it with Lyle when they’d spoken earlier and BOTH of them agreed. It would be cheaper and better than the bus! HE OFFERED! NO PREVIOUS MENTION, NO DISCUSSION, THE OFFER JUST CAME! And he said something that struck me: “There are still some ‘good people’ in the world. I’m not saying that we’re ‘good people’ but there ARE still some ‘good people’ in the world.” We talked about how he and I both have been screwed over and over again, and that I’m no longer used to ‘good people’… in the world or else-where. But he almost insisted that ‘there are still some ‘good people’ in the world” and that they can help and will. (I told him that there couldn’t be any thing better than the act that they’ve allowed me to, as I put it, “slide on my arse around here for the past 3 months” and he said “You’ve done a lot of work around here. Besides, Randy’s helping out too.” He mentioned something that I didn’t know and that rather took me for a surprise: When Randy and Lyle had gone shopping just before Thanksgiving and had come back with 700$ in groceries, RANDY FOOTED THE ENTIRE AMOUNT! Bob offered that he still feels terrible about it. But I’m rather surprised that Lyle would even allow Randy to do such a thing! And then I think of all the food that gets tossed because it’s either just past the sell-by date or it’s left-overs in the fridge for a day or 3. FOOD! Thrown away… 700$ in shopping for name-brands and such and bulk items and such and the waste! (I’m rather resolved in seeing to it that that stops! Today was a good start with making the bread with the left-over yams. There must be more of that. Which reminds me: I need to phone FoodStamps tomorrow. No doubt they’ll tell me I’ve been disqualified or something. But what the fuck? Why not? As I said to Bob earlier this evening… I remember reading or being told that when things appear to be at their absolute worst, that’s the time you actually beckon the Universe to throw EVERYTHING at you NOW! So? I’ve NO doubt that the Universe is just right there with “EVERYTHING” at the waiting and… BANG! The shit will come GUSHING down on me. But? Who the fuck cares, really? CHECK-OUT TIME! WINTER! Still, I’m in some state of shock about the kindness here. And I keep thinking: maybe the lesson of moving here is that I’ve actually “found what I’ve been looking for”: “good people”, people who care, and the absence of ‘apathy’. Maybe that’s exactly why VT came immediately after the Shelter, and this house came immediately after the miserable “welcome” of NYC. (Or, maybe it’s Creation’s way of manipulating me into yet another position where Ill be hammered in the face again. But that’s something that I will have to give serious thought, consideration and wakeful eyes to. And right now, “trust” is NOT something high on my list of things I want in my life. Time… that’s all… time.) – So, every-one retired at about 22.00 or so this evening and I had so much angst and energy that I sent them up to bed and I got busy on the dinner dishes in the sink. It also gave me the opportunity to take Bob up on his offer of earlier “When you get your things together tonight, pour yourself a stiff drink.” he said. A beer was attractive but I didn’t think it would “un-wind” nor “calm” the events of the day. So, I did what any self-respecting alchie would do: A bottle of beer in a mug, and a healthy shot of vodka with. I sipped as I washed the dishes… and I scrubbed the dishes tonight. “Therapy”, as it were. The drink didn’t do much in the way of “calming”, nor did it feel as though it took the razor-edge off anything. If anything, it pushed me on with more anxieties about getting to the computer and getting the “CrowdFunding” pages done! As it ran, it was 23.00 when I finally put the lights out in the clean and tidy kitchen and came back up to the room for the night. – THIS HAS BEEN A DAY WHERE I PHYSICALLY FEEL RIPPED APART. AS IF CHAINS WERE WRAPPED ROUND ME AND PULLED IN MULTIPLE DIFFERENT DIRECTIONS, WITH A SNAP! TO WAKE TO THE REALITY OF HAVING LOST MY ENTIRE LIFE… AGAIN! AND BECAUSE I “TRUSTED” SOME-ONE, ANOTHER WOMAN FOR THAT MATTER, I ALLOWED SOME-ONE THE OPPORTUNITY TO FUCK ME OVER AND… OF COURSE, SHE DID… AGAIN! TO KNOW THAT I NOW HAVE NOTHING AT ALL LEFT! THEN TO GET A JOB THAT I’D APPLIED FOR MONTHS AGO, WAS TOLD THAT I’M NOT “QUALIFIED”, THEN TO BE TOLD I’M NOT “QUALIFIED” BECAUSE OF THE BULL-SHIT CAUSED BY YET ANOTHER DUMB-ASS WOMAN WHO KNOWS NOTHING ABOUT ME OR MY LIFE-TIME! DIANE SCREWED ME WITH THE CRIMINAL CHARGES, STACEY PERPETUATED THE BULL-SHIT WITH HER FUCKED-UP REPORT, CYNDI-HIGHGATE COMPOUNDED THE BULL-SHIT BY RELYING ON OUT-DATED INFORMATION… AND WE LOOP BACK TO CYNDI MACK AND HER ASSURANCES OF BEING WELCOME IN THE HOUSE FOLLOWED BY TAKING ME OUT FOR AN ALLEGED “RIDE” THAT BECAME MORE A “RIDE” THAN IMAGINABLE. THEN I GET THE JOB I’D BEEN HOPING FOR ONLY TO BE TOLD THAT IT’S CONTINGENT UPON A 400-MILE TRIP AWAY… IN DECEMBER… IN NEW ENGLAND! FOLLOWED BY THE OFFER OF A RENTAL CAR AND BEING TOLD “We can help to get you there and we will.” TOO TOO TOO TOO MUCH, TOO TOO TOO TOO TOO MANY CONFLICTING EMOTIONS! I’m in need of either a shut-down, a melt-down or BOTH. But, I’m pretty sure that there’s a GRAND SNAP just round the next bend… and BEND is precisely what this is all about… I’m about to take a turn, slip round a bend… Soon and very soon.
Report as of 2.56
Thu.12.Dec: 2.14 At this rate, I may as well stay awake all through the night. Obviously, mixing ale and vodka didn’t work to help with sleep. MEANWHILE… Nancy? Give it the fuck up! Go the fuck away! You’re EXACTLY the same as my sister. I see that now, all too clearly. Call me what you will, but you ARE exactly the same as my sister and I have NO need nor want for THAT shit in my other-wise miserable life. So get your own life and GTFO… and GTF2H!
2.33 I want so much to go to sleep, but body and mind won’t shut down. I had to get the indiegogo “CrowdFund” page up and running. I had to get the GoFundMe page up-dated. There’s so much I have to do now and so little time! And Lyle will be home this after-noon, the garbage has to go out in a couple of hours. I need to find a way to get to “orientation” and I have only a couple of days to get that settled. A 200 mile trip one way, time in a place I don’t know. OK. By the Atlantic, but a job relies on this! I checked the e-mail a little while ago and storage called at 15.00 or so yesterday. What the fuck do THEY want? Didn’t get enough at auction to pay the balance? Interesting just how much shit “Life” can throw at one person all at once. – The room is getting cold. I’ve just come up from a smoke. Fuck me! It’s bitter out there! And to think: a trip to MAINE in DECEMBER! 200 MILES AWAY… IN DECEMBER! Truly… why do I take the next breath? – Oh well, I didn’t get to the notes for yesterday so I suppose this is as good a time as any, so… –
(No, I didn’t get to the notes… it’s 9.11 – oh that hour again! And the start of another business day and I’ve much “business” to accomplish. It’s bloody THURSDAY and I have mere HOURS in which to complete SO MUCH SHIT! So…) – This morning turned rather interesting, I must say. As I was finishing the “CrowdFunding” pages (and yes, I’m running TWO simultaneously, I just don’t give a flying fuck’s-worth any more. Maybe people will miss one… but TWO? NOW we shall see SO much of how fucking useless the World is.) ANYway… I was working the “CrowdFunding” pages and had to connect one with the FB page. Whilst there on the FB, it struck me to look to see if Devon was on that kiddie-shit and so I typed in his name and WOAH! THERE HE WAS! Photo’s and all! So, I put in for a “friend” thing, and just continued on with the business part of my endeavours here when what to my wondering eyes should appear but that little number 1 in the little red square… DEVON! at some hour round about 1.20… in the morning! Awake! And he “accepted” the “friend” request! Well slap my arse and call me what-ever the fuck comes to your mind! So we exchanged a couple of comments and he signed-off (I believe). Well, well, well! Another SNAP of the Fates and such! Quite the delight in the middle of the night (rhyme not intentional but I’m leaving it as is). – Twtr… I needed to get to those accounts as well for the “CrowdFunding” and there, on my “author” account was a family, 5 kids in a van. Not a “White” family, but no matter, they’re using “GoFundMe” for help to get out of being Homeless (the connection in my head did, indeed, happen, and it appears the Mum is on Twitter asking for help or even the support of kind words… so? OF COURSE! THERE I AM AGAIN! I referred her over to the NYC8539 and so, I now “follow” the Homeless… It’s almost a shame that they had to come along now, at a point where I’m just so riddled with NO TRUST in ANY-ONE. BUT… we know me… Mr. Shit4Brains… I’ll do what I can (and probably to my detriment) to help in what-ever way I can. Of course my anger and bitterness toward all those fuck-tards on social media who self-promote with their perpetual lies about how wonderful they are because of all the “help” they give to the Homeless and how “Christian” they are (oh, that was something that Bob mentioned in our smoke-chat… HE’S run into the “Christian” bull-shit as well… seems they really are making the circuit… those “Christians”… useless shits as they are). I digress… my hatred for those miserable, usurious, scum-buckets came out and I’m certain I’ve offended a great many with my comments about their hypocrisy and how this is an opportunity for them to prove their self-proclaimed “worth”… I re-posted the link for the funding for the family (whilst rather neglecting my own needs… but only for the moment… MINE come today!) and commented on giving help to this family. (OH I AM SUCH A TOTAL WASTE OF SOME OXYGEN AND SPACE, NOT TO MENTION BEING SO USELESS THAT I COULDN’T EVEN BE SPREAD AS FERTILISER FOR A CROP OF POISON IVY!”) But there we have the way this morning went until I finally got so fucking tired that I simply said “ENOUGH!”. I was going to stay awake through, but… my brains just turned to burnt toast crumb at about 3.20 or so. I disconnected the internet and clicked ye olde “shut-down” on the “shit lap-top”, put out the light and… – 8.15 Yes, awake again. And sick to my stomach. But the garbage is out to the street. And it’s bitter cold this morning. I feel like total shit. And the lap-top looped in “Shut-down” as I “slept” for the few hours. I woke with the alarm at 6.00 but some-how just didn’t want to “wake”. Ale and vodka perhaps? Oh, it should have been the BDM! OK so on with what-ever today. There are things that need to be done that I’m not looking forward to. –
12.57 AND SO IT WOULD APPEAR THAT I AM THE TALK OF THE TOWN. I NO SOONER MENTION SOMETHING TO THE OLD BIDDY AND SHE JUST CAN’T WAIT TO GET ON THE PHONE AND TALK. I MEAN, THEY HAVE NOTHING ELSE TO CHAT ABOUT BUT ME? AND THEN I OVER-HEAR INCORRECT INFORMATION… AGAIN… SECOND TIME WITH-IN ABOUT 12 HOURS THAT MISINFORMATION IS BEING DISCUSSED? THIS SHIT NEEDS TO END… TRULY. ENOUGH! THEN BOB CALLS BACK TO THE HOUSE TO TALK WITH ME TO ASK IF I ARRANGED ANYTHING FOR THE CAR FOR THE WEEK-END AND I DID SAY “DIDN’T YOU TALK WITH RANDY ABOUT IT ALREADY?” OK THEN… – Now it’s time for me to get me together some-how and off and out the fuck from here. – Oh… 10z. Fuckem. –
13.20 I just hit the “Homepage” image on Chrome and got the SIBL public terminal!!!!!
24.12 The day is done. Finally getting into bed. It’s been… a day. I rang Elaine B. this morning (thanks to Google Voice), hoping that she’d tell me that somebody else from Vermont was going to the orientation. Nope. There are 6 people in this “class”: 1 from VT, 1 from NH and the other 4 are from Maine. And Portland is the only place the orientation is being held. So I’m in this alone and still not certain that I have any way to get there… even as I type this. But she said that the PO can arrange for a cash advance, that there are reimbursements for all sorts of things and that I should talk with my PM. So, I washed my clothes (at long last), then did the bed linens (at long last), SHOWERED (AT LONG LAST), and toddled over to find Rachel working. Jennifer had another day away. THEN Rachel tells me that she believes that the PM is that Cyndi in Highgate, the one who fucked me out of getting the job back in the Summer! But tomorrow I’ll go talk with Jennifer and HOPE that I can get SOME of the advance to give to Bob… at least for the car rental (which is 89,00$ for 4 days, which is what I’ll need because I’ll have to leave here on Sunday morning. I have to take the hotel room for Sunday and Monday nights at 47$ plus tax, and I have to be there before 18.00 or I lose the room and the rate! Incredible. Getting this job is proving to be more stressful than having no job at all! Anyway, Rachel and I talked for a while (whilst Randy made dinner), and I came back to the house. – I checked to see if I still had access to the storage web-site to check on the status of “my account”. Nothing. Nope. It’s gone. Confirmed. EVERYTHING IS GONE! Fuck me. Fuck you Nancy… EXACTLY A DUPLICATE OF MY SISTER. And so, now I have to wipe the whole thing from my conscious memory. – At the rate things are going, with the storage, the job, just about everything, I’m looking forward to the 21st. – Ah… and then the evening and night got worse. – My application for FoodStamps is “under consideration and review”. A letter will be sent telling me the decision. I’ve been denied health insurance because of “where-abouts unknown”! What a fucking dumb-fest.- Then Bob came, fetched Randy and they were off. Bob took Randy to his new doctor (how nice that the non-working slobs have medical care… the “I don’t want to work” non-working slobs. Meanwhile, me? Fucked. When they left, I was left to watch the meat-loaf and mash the potatoes. Right. I heated the 2 franks that were in the fridge and ate the last piece of pie in the fridge and called it dinner. – You see, I was expected to sign for Lyle’s meds when they arrived. And the Nurse and such was supposed to set Lyle up with the meds at 20.00. WELL! LESSON DU JOUR? INCONSIDERATION RUNS AMOK IN THIS HOUSE-HOLD! The Nurse came… no Lyle. The Nurse went to visit with her parents (who own the Alder Run Gun Shop up on the Gallup Rd, imagine that) and said to page her when the other 3 returned. She left, the meds arrived. The poor guy came all the way up from Rutland! And tonight it snowed a bit! Well. I spent over an hour talking with Anne ( the Nurse) until she left. Then another over-and-hour with Tim, the guy from Rutland and no Bob, Lyle and Randy! When Bob rang, at about 18.30 he said they’d be back in 30-45 minutes, they were waiting for some meds that the hospital prescribed. I could tell by the back-ground noise that they weren’t where he said they were and I suspected they were at the Walmart (it was proven that I was correct when they came in with all sorts of shit).He then rang at about 19.30 to say that they’d be back in 10 minutes. They didn’t show up until almost 20.00 which put the Nurse late, Tim (the meds guy), late for his trip back to Rutland, and dinner at 21.00! I enjoyed talking with Anne and Tim,both Vemonters. Tim even goes back to the Algonquin First Nations in l’Estrie! Yet, he’s another one with Québec roots who can’t speak French. Anne lives in… RICHFORD! So I actually enjoyed talking with them in spite of the inconsideration of the other 3. just so completely WRONG those 3. Just so wrong. – The good news is that Lyle has a pump connected to a bag of meds that lasts 24 hours so there’s no work to be done by any one of the rest of us. A Nurse will come daily to attend. This is good because I wasn’t looking forward to the Q4h flushings and such. I’m not in a frame of mind or spirit for that shit any more. – Dinner as I say, was a 12.00 and yes indeed, tonight I ate! No more going hungry… not for my last days! Fukdatshit. In a word. – BUT I washed the dishes and put them up. OK? OK! – Bob asked the half-assed questions based on the half-assed information that Little Miss Old Woman fag-boy told him and I got bent out of shape. I told them: In NY, people get shot for talking shit about other people they know nothing about. Lyle said I need to be less sensitive. I said I’m NY and we’re like that. He said I’ll only make my life worse. I said “At my age, just how much life do I have left? Too late. I’m not going to change.” But I will… I’ll just stop talking to the Old Biddie. Solved. – THEN came “the night” and Lyle crying because he feels that Bob really doesn’t “love’ him and that coming to the house in its state was wrong and that he wants to go find a little apartment some-where and leave the house to Bob. Me? I did and said what I could to make it appear that Bob was exhausted, that he didn’t sleep well since Lyle left, that he missed Lyle so much, and all the things that are supposed to be said to make another person feel better. Indeed… I said it. OK. Done. Lyle’s not so convinced, but I tried to make things better. I just do that. (Besides, this is my residence for now and it’s in my best interest to make things “better” for as long as I’m here.) – Bob went up to bed, as did the Old Biddie, Lyle and I watched “Carrie” and chatted. He’s in a snit about just everything. And rather depressed about all sorts of things. Ah… they’ve NO clue about how I’m feeling… but it’s none of their business, really. – And so, I think that brings me up to date and time. – Fuck the day!
Fri.13.Dec: 0.52 Tired. I just ate about 6 slices of cinnamon raisin bread that I’d found in the fridge with a tag that reads “Sept.13” as a sell-by! I’m hungry and it will be thrown out anyway. Fag-boy already threw out a container of sour cream! Wasteful! – Really getting tired now. A quick run through the social media and I’m out for the night. – 9.01 I woke with the alarm, turned the light on, went right back to sleep and am just now up and about. Just in from a smoke and it’s BITTER out there! (And me with no Winter coat or gloves or… MUST FORGT THI SHIT!) – Lyle is asleep down-stairs, but he was planning on that for the next couple of weeks anyway. It’s difficult for him to climb the stairs. He’s in a rather foul mood and concerned, he confided, about the relationship with Bob. Doubts; a very big and major issue and part of why I’m rather satisfied with my “relationship” status: NOT. For me, it’s bad enough that I meet people like, oh, let’s say: Janice, Doug, Nancy… and to an extent, Silas. Just cannot trust people, particularly the ones I meet. So, to be involved in a “relationship”? Oh HELL no! – This morning, I should be rather celebratory about the fact that as of tomorrow, I am “employed” again, AND that I’m the equivalent of a PMR again! Employed and in a job that I actually LIKE. BUT… BUT… this morning I’m a mess. My stomach is a mess, my nerves and mood and such are all a mess. I’m seeing this orientation not happening. I’m seeing that I’m not going to make it. I’m seeing this job falling through. i need the phone re-connected. I’m seeing that not happening. If I could get into the credit union, I could get the cash to re-install the phone. (I think. I don’t even know how much that’s going to cost me.) If I could get the advance help from the PO, it would mean the world right now. I don’t see that happening. But I’ll go over to the PO this morning, after the mail is cased, and I’ll try. Nothing wrong in trying. – For the immediate, my fingers are cold, this lap-top is cold, my guts are trying to clean me out. And I’m rather sick over the whole day. I don’t want to be awake. I don’t want to be breathing. I don’t want to be existing. – Oh, and I’m running out of coffee. – Well, with that check list, yes, I’m awake and here amongst the “living”… Situation Normal: All Fucked Up. SNAFU! –
Sat.14.Dec: 24.51 Just getting to bed and tomorrow morning I HAVE TO BE ON THE ROAD NOT LATER THAN 10.00! But tonight there’s SNOW SNOW SNOW and WINTER HAZARD WARNINGS THROUGH SUNDAY UNTIL 16.00 IN FRANKLIN. I’LL BE DRIVING ALONG IN THE STORM. There’s just something ALL WRONG about ALL of this job-related thing. Yet, the day went along, and not all well at all. – Bob came to the door this morning at about 7.00 to ask if I was ready. Yes, I was. So we got into the car and drove into Highgate to the PO. Cindy was in the back, but came to the counter, gave me the form and a money order for 341$. Better than nothing but it doesn’t cover the car, the food, the gas… it just doesn’t cover the expenses. It’s certain now that I’ll be spending the next couple of days with nothing to eat. Not that I haven’t done that before, but this time I’ll be driving and in a town I don’t know and trying to stay lucid in a room of other people where I’m supposed to be paying attention. As I say: nothing about this is promising. – Off to cash the money order. Bob insisted… INSISTED that I get a “Gift Card” thinking that I could put the car on that. (I know that doesn’t work but I kept my mouth shut.) Off to Price Chopper… ? Bob saw that the cards are pre-denominated. Why he didn’t know this is beyond me, but again, I kept my mouth shut and followed along. He asked some guy if they carried cards that could be “loaded” and the guy confirmed… No. So, it was up the road and to NEFCU where I cashed the money order. Well then OK. Cash, but that wasn’t going to work either. Still, I kept my mouth shut and… – Next in the line of business? Getting the car from Enterprise, another thing I’m not thrilled with. I don’t like Enterprise. Their cars are usually shit. I’m nervous about that as well. If memory serves, they’re the ones who gave me the car to go to Mum’s funeral… it broke down. I had to get another one, that had no radio, it was filthy AND somebody in the office tried to use my credit card to make a purchase! But, that’s the one Bob and Lyle insisted on, so we went. And… AH HAH! Instead of following MY directions to get to the office in Williston (I knew where it was, relatively) and how to get to it, Bob decided to follow “Garmin” abd Garmin put us into Jericho… Announced we were at our destination… in a private housing street, in front of a private house. No, don’t listen to me… But then again, that’s the way life is! – At Enterprise, exactly what I’d expected all along is exactly what happened: the driver and driver’s credit card or debit card was necessary. Bob asked if he could rent the car and put me as “Primary Driver”. Not unless I had a credit card! (Why? I have NO idea, but Enterprise is a shit!) The fuck-nut rep tells him “If you let somebody else drive the car and there’s the slightest accident, the police have to be notified and when they come, they’ll simply tow the car. You’re driver will be stuck where-ever he is, with-out the car.” So Bob put the car on his debit card and part on a credit card. (The first credit card was rejected. WHERE did all the bill-paying loan money go? None of my business. But still…) 160$ with all the bells and whistles. But then he decided that he would keep the rental and I could use THEIR car! I’m tired, hungry, anxious about driving in a Winter storm, about driving 300 miles away, I’m feeling the cold so much these days… and now I get to drive THEIR car! I wanted to bloody-fucking PUKE! But… off we went. Bob in the rental Toyota and me in THEIR car. – I stopped in Winooski to put 20$ into the tank… made for a half, stopped at Hannaford in St. Albans because I need coffee and went to the house… BUT… en route to the house, missed the turn-off and ended up going BACK through Highgate and Morses Line! Yup… NOTHING about this job is going well at all! – I’m sick. I’m tired. I’m cold. I’m SO fucking depressed. I should be thrilled about being back to work. I should be thrilled about being back with the PO. I’m just sick. – Tonight, Randy prepared spiral pasta with sauté shrimp. OK, very good but me? Shrimp? I had 4 and 2 large helpings of plain pasta. It’s the last thing I’ll be eating until Wednesday, earliest. – THIS EVENING, LYLE TOLD ME TO TAKE THE JACKET THAT HE’D JUST WASHED OUT OF THE DRYER AND TRY IT ON. IT WAS HIS DAD’S. YES, IT FITS AND YES, HE GAVE IT TO ME! I AM JUST ABOUT SO BLOWN COMPLETELY AWAY! I’M NOT ACCUSTOMED TO ALL OF THE KINDNESS I’M EXPERIENCING SINCE I CAME TO FRANKLIN. I’M JUST NOT USED TO IT. I’M USED TO PEOPLE LIKE NANCY… LIARS. THIS JACKET COMES AT A MOMENT IN TIME WHEN I’M FEELING EVEN THE SLIGHTEST BIT OF THE COLD WEATHER. I JUST DON’T KNOW WHAT TO THINK OR SAY ANY MORE. I’M SO GRATEFUL! – Then Bob called me out to the car. We took a drive so that he could show me the gadgets, heater, wipers, defrosters, 4-wheel drive, gears, the works. There’s snow all over the place, so I think he might have wanted to see how well I drive in the snow… But one can’t blame him for that! Not in the least! And, he programmed the Garmin to take me to the hotel in Maine. (It also used gas that I need. But that’s OK. It was necessary and helpful beyond words!) – The evening went along. I watched TV in the living-room because the house is SO SO SO COLD! – Lyle went up to bed and, it must have been about 23.30 when he called me to go to the basement. He wanted to kick the boiler up… but it wouldn’t. There were 3 bats in the vent motor. Poor thing! What a horrid way to die! (And how well I can empathise with that!) But the boiler would NOT kick in! So, another cold night in the house. To top it off? The pipes for the wash-room off the kitchen… froze! So Bob had to take the blow-dryer to them! So that’s why, on a night when I should be in bed and asleep early, I’m jotting notes about the day at this hour. Well, I’m actually too nervous and anxious and depressed tonight t sleep. I should be celebratory, happy, exhilarated, joyful… I’m miserable. BUT I CAN’T BELIEVE THAT SOMEBODY IS ACTUALLY HELPING ME! TWO “CROWD-FUNDERS”, NOTES ON SOCIAL MEDIA AND I GET SHIT! NOT ONE FUCKING USELESS PIECE OF SHIT ACTUALLY. THEY’LL DUMP CASH INTO THE HANDS AND POCEKTS OF DICK-WADS AND SCAMMERS, BUT ME? FUCK THEM ALL! JUST FUCK THEM ALL (thanks Nancy… liar… I KNOW the facts too… bitch!) BUT BOB AND LYLE ARE ACTUALLY GOING THE LENGTH, JUST AS I WOULD DO! I MEAN… I JUST DON’T UNDERSTAND ANY OF THIS! AND AGAIN, I’M THANKFUL BEYOND ANY WORDS… IN ANY LANGUAGE THAT I KNOW! – Bottom line for me though: I’m going with not enough money for all the basics, I’m nervous about taking their car… there’s a Winter Storm coming and I have a 300-mile drive to cover. Maybe I’ll get REALLY LUCKY as I sleep and die. I’m actually praying. – (I’ve actually been recounting at 21.30 on Monday night…. in Maine.)
SUN.15.DEC: 18.07 MAINE!!!!
AFTER ALL THESE YEARS… I’M IN MAINE! IMAGINE THIS! MAINE! It just feels so odd to be able to put that down… MAINE! – 22.35 I left the house about just about 10.30 this morning. There was snow all over the road, the cars, the everything. A LOT of snow! I cleared the walk, front stoop, both cars. (No gloves, but a jacket.) The :storm” had either passed or was lingering else-where, but the snow was falling lightly. I got me together, got into the car. The other 3 all but ignored me. I don’t think any of them are comfortable with the way this has gone. But they helped so much… Bob and Lyle did. Still, that doesn’t mean they’re happy about it. And it just seemed “Heavy” in the house. As I was getting ready to pull out, Bob came to the car… for the 160$. I’d half-forgotten about it, but… I could have used it… He went back into the house, came out, handed me the 50$ gift card he’d gotten from Bruce and Penny and said “Merry Christmas”. SHIT! Imagine? HEY! I told him that I don’t know if I have enough for the hotel AND food AND gas… so no I have enough for gas at least! And so… yes… I left. – Stopped in WInooski, used the card, 25$ in gas into the car and off we went, down the 89. Now, Gramin wanted me to head over the hills toward the 91 and there was no fucking way I was going to take THAT in all this snow, so at EACH AND EVERY EXIT ALONT THE 89, THE FUCKING BOX KEPT TELLING ME TO TAKE THE EXIT! It was HORRIBLE! – There was snow on the road, slush, water, mess, all the way down to Rutland. At Rutland, instead of snow and slush, the road was just WET! AMAZING! RIGHT AT the county line it changed! Imagine? Quite amazing. AND a relief! – fed up with the Garmin-shit, at the Barre exit, I did take it, just to see where I’d be going… RIGHT INTO BARRE! FUCK! My plan was to go to the 91 but now I had to back-track to the 89 again and hope… So I did. And when I got to West Lebanon, the trip got MORE INTERESTING! I followed that stupid box on the dash and WOW! FUUUUUUUCKED UP! BEAUTIFULCOUNTRY-SIDE… IN THE SNOW-COVERED MOUNTAINS OF NEW HAMPSHIRE, BUT FUUUUUUUCKED UP! Small, mountain roads, round all sorts of lakes. Yes, it was beautiful, but my time was running by… not so much for the arrival as SUN-DOWN! IT WAS GETTING DARK! I needed to “get out of the woods” before dark. Well, when I finally got to Osippee NH I found a McD’s. By this time I’d been on the road, non-stop for almost 6 hours and had to PEE for most of those. I bombed in, asked to use the loo and to see how far I was from Portland… the one girl looked at me and said “Far”. I asked “how long” in time… “about 2 hours”. Oh well… I didn’t have 2 hours at this point, not in the mountains, but it wasn’t another 4, so I was OK. I peed… it was painful… actually painful. – Out of McD’s and a stop across the road at a general store. I wanted smokes! In the store, I asked the women about the distance to Portland and… “Oh sweet-heart, you just follow the 25 right through, it’ll take you right INTO Portland.” How long? A bit over and hour! “I’ve done that run so many times I could do it in my sleep.” I bought a box of Whoppers, 3 packs of smokes… 15$! SHIT! I’ll never understand how NH does it: smokes at 5$, GAS at 3,35$! NH… the way life really should be! And so, pee-free, relieved and in the smokes, Whoppers for the daily meal… I was off on the 25 and headed East into Maine… the rough way… over the mountains. But with a bit of vigour at this point. There were more lakes, but the road wasn’t all narrow and twisted and woodsy and snowy and such. Now it was rather cleared, there were houses and such and I actually took a bit of video (which I’ve posted, at this point, to Tumblr…). Better mood and attitude… sort of. Still depressed and down about this whole ordeal. I don’t think that will ever go away. (And, honestly? If I’d been going North instead of East, this entry wouldn’t happen and there’d be none to follow.) – So I’m driving along, listening to the iPod (which was a pain in the shitter to get to work, by the way)… when…
Welcome to Maine! State of Maine! MAINE! Just drove right into MAINE! Now I was IN Maine, made it to Maine… mystery Maine… ALL of the New England states covered! I CAN die now! It was an “OH MY GOD! MAINE!” moment… alone… alone…. alone. Yet another “WOW! OH MY GOD!” moment… alone. – And the advice from the women in NH? Right on the spot! The route took me right into Portland AND right to the hotel! – Portland, out at this end anyway, is REALLY commercial. Those strip malls… sort of like Williston VT. Kohls, Shaws, that type of thing. NOT New England… not the MAINE I’d expected. And it was dark bu the time I got here to the Fireside Inn… at ALMOST 18.00!!! REALLY! The lights out-side were dark, but I didn’t mind that at all. Got parking right out-side the front door. – Check-in? BRILLIANT! QUICK! I PAID THE ROOM (101.52$ for the 2 nights) in cash (leaving me with about 40$ for gas and food… NOT happening with the food thing). Michael gave me TWO small Whoopie Pies (guests get one at check-in but when I told him I hadn’t eaten…) The room? EVER SO NICE! CLEAN (the tub’s a bit old but…), HUGE BED, it was chilly when I got here but in no time I got it warmed up so that I could actually sit on the bed in shorts!!! WARMTH! HEAT! WARMTH! WARMTH! WARMTH! HEAT! WARMTH! COMFORT! (Another OH MY GOD moment.) – FIRST THING: Set up the lap-top and ring Bob! FIRST THING! he sounded either removed or pissed about something. Oh well. He said he was changing Lyle’s meds but I wonder. He just wasn’t at all happy that I phoned. But I did and so… – HUNGRY! EVER SO HUNGRY! No food, not enough to get any, breakfast tomorrow will be “it” for the day. It’s going to be “interesting” to say the very least. But I had TWO little Whoopie Pies so it’s not like “nothing”. – Tired, but want to get stuff done for the day, posted on-line and such. – I cleaned my teeth, trimmed beard, shaved, showered. KKRISTE! WAS THAT DELIGHTFUL! When I came back from a smoke (the night sky is crystal clear and I think full moon) the room smelled CLEAN! – Oh, 10z with Goodwill loggers! Lets just say that the whole everything took all of maybe 15 mins! That’s so quick… making it rather interesting. – There are 4 people in the hotel tonight! Imagine that! It’s like having the place to one’s self! But, it’s Winter… there was a storm… the weather is forecasting another one… on BLOODY TUESDAY! This isn’t even near “ski country” so… But I’m here… and tomorrow is another challenge. – What I wouldn’t give for a beer right now… but tonight, I NEED SLEEP! I’M IN MAINE FOR FUX SAKE! MAINE! IMAGINE? MAINE! (alone).
Mon.16.Dec: 20.01 –
22.13 Just woke form an hour nap. This morning, I slept through the 5.00 alarm! Fortunately I woke at 6.00, but I HAD to be out of here not later than 7.00 SO…. NO BREAKFAST and lunch is rather out of the financial question and dinner? Are you fucking kidding me? And yesterday, driving 8 hours in the snow and over the river and through the woods and all that bull-shit and all on a box of “Whoppers” that I got in Osippee? – Well, I got to the plant/class/orientation late… LATE! because I missed one bloody turn… onto Massachusetts St. or Ave. or what-the-fuck-ever. Street signs are up in the centre of the intersections for the most part, done on blue back-ground and white lettering and too fucking small to see! Sure there are the green signs on the poles at the corners but again, too fucking small to actually see… so by the time I saw the sign for Massachusetts av. I was driving right past it which meant trying to turn round, which meant taking streets all over the damned place because the streets here aren’t simply laid-out perpendicular and parallel to each-other… oh no… they loop into and out of and round and about and well… PROUDLY how-ever, I got my way right back to Brighton and BINGO, on to Massachusetts and Congress and the Fore River and the 295 and all the way through. The drive SHOUD have been only a matter of moments. But, first time, first day and all that shit. – The drive down the 295 was rather bitter-sweet. Portland and the area is coastal… the Atlantic… there are ponds and bays and inlets and such and THEY have tides… TIDES! And there’s water about and it was so much like being in NY. So at the same time, I was happy about being in Maine and not too happy about not being in NY. Isn’t that just something? I miss NY a bit. But the choice now is: NY or the North Country? Sorry NY… until I can get back to the North Country of NY… But it was a lovely drive… once I got out of town. – I don’t think Elaine even minded my tardiness because nothing was said to me about it. And this morning, right away, she was taking photos for ID and finger-prints so I didn’t even miss anything at all! (Oh, and I was the only one who came in wearing a tie… or anything slightly formal… but I DO believe that i was the eldest of the group. Oh well… BFD for me. This is all mechanical… machinations… rote… bull-shit time-passing bull-shit… I’m merely doing what I must to get along until…) And so… there are, indeed, 6 of us… 3 males, 3 females. 2 “PMR”s too. I thought the PO was phasing them out. But… the one person, a woman, from NH is originally from VT. The others are from ME. Some from remote areas. It really brings the vastness of all of this to the fore. It’s fascinating to think of the diversity of towns here, in New England and just how far apart people can be. Small towns in remote areas, and just how “remote” this part of the country can be. And it’s nice to meet people from all over the place, to see how different and yet similar we all can be. – Orientation was a little “new” but other-wise, a refresher of the things that I haven’t been in touch with for… well… years. And I’m the only one with any previous experience. Elaine is a marvel. Very nice, and informative and rather casual. I enjoyed today. – I broke down and actually spent some money on something to eat at lunch. Pizza was 1,50$ per slice so I had 2. Candy was 95¢ each and I had a Reeses candy bar and a Milky Way. I needed something to eat… just to keep my head clear. I can feel the lack of food. And I chatted with the others. They’re really nice. It makes the whole experience a joy. – But 16.00 we were out again, and the weather was crystal clear, but bitter cold and I was so tired from the travel here that I went directly back to the hotel… and with-out any trouble navigating. – Stopped to put 10$ gas into the car. The “mileage” light was flashing that I had only 30-some miles left. Enough to get me back tomorrow, but in this cold, I didn’t want the tank to go too close to empty. And then? Skipped across the road to the Dunkin Donuts for 6 Bavarian creme. I NEED sugar! And I’m really not all into “food” of late. Just eating to kill hunger. THAT was rather costly at about 6$… money I don’t have and can’t really afford to spend. But, I need to stay awake and clear for the classes and for the trips in the car. Need to be alert for the driving, if nothing else. But the sugar put me right to sleep! I had to take a nap! And the room is so WONDERUFLLY WARM! WARMTH! There’s something I haven’t experienced in what seems and eternity. So it was condusive to sleep… rest, rest, rest. – I re-packed again. All that travel, getting “settled-in” only to re-pack. Tomorrow I’ll be getting up, putting everything back into the car, going to the orientation and leaving right away… back on the road. AND… I left VT in a Winter storm and tomorrow, I’ll be leaving ME in a Winter storm. All those years of not driving only to put some 600 miles in… in Winter storms. HEY! NOT ONE FUCKER CAN SAY I DON’T GIVE SHIT EVERY BIT OF MY EFFORT. (All you fuckers who just don’t feel that I’m worth the effort of your anything. I still can’t get over how much faith and confidence and help Bob and Lyle put into my efforts. I’m just so not accustomed to that. But it reminds me, all the more, of those who have come into my existence with all sorts of assurances that they too have faith and confidence in me and yet, they’re not here, didn’t bother to help at a time when it’s so needed… just a general bunch of worthless fucks. OK. Moving along.) – I still keep thinking: I finally get to Maine, a place I’ve wanted to “see” for so long, I’m here and all I get to see is such a small bit of it. And most of the time is the inside of this hotel room, the inside of a USPS plant and then? I leave. What a shit. And when I go out for a smoke I think of how it used to make me so happy when I was in Montréal, and how I used to look up and think “under Canadian skies” and “breathing Québec air” and how being in ME just isn’t anything like that at all. Either I’m “jaded” or things just don’t mean much to me any more. Yes, I’m tired… of breathing, of being here… of just “being” at all. – Well, the little nap I took really helped and I noticed that there are more people in the hotel today. Not many more, but more. – I was supposed to do an interview for Food Stamps today, but missed that completely. I suppose I’ll just have to start the entire process over from the beginning when I get back… if I want to bother at all. I don’t really give a shit. It’ about “food” and “eating” and that’s something that doesn’t interest me much at all. Food is something I’ve never really had much of, or enough of for most of my existence so why bother with it now? As I say: all of this is merely for the appearance of it. Nothing is long-term any more. Nothing has any real meaning or interest to me what-so-ever. I merely plod along until… And when I get back to VT, I suppose I should get a PO Box, just to have a place to have mail sent to and not to the house… and I need money for that and to maintain this veneer of giving a shit about shit. Oh, and the first pay-day is 3 JANUARY! Nothing coming in until AFTER the holidays. This is going to be so awkward. How-ever… typical of me, my existence… the thing whole misery of breathing and existing and “being”. And I keep wondering why I even bother… why bother at all? I wish I was in a place of my own, alone. “Checking-out” in a house with others in it is just, well, inconvenient and selfish but it’s something I need to arrange… So I get the job, hopefully get the money to get a place of my own and get the fuck out of ALL. – Goals. – 22.19 Just caught up with Saturday and Sunday and posted to the on-line journal. Now I want a shower. I want a smoke. I NEED TO GET TO SLEEP! THERE’S A REALLY LONG-DAY-INTO-NIGHT COMING TOMORROW… another 300miles or such, a day that will begin at 5.00 and not end until… probably Wednesday morning. AND MY BACK IS GOING OUT. EVER SO PAINFUL! Stress? Tension? Who the fuck cares? (And pain follows me… even to the shores of Maine.)
Tue.17.Dec: 5.32 Slept through TWO ALARMS this morning! Woke just about on time to get things done. This bull-shit of sleeping through alarms must stop! I don’t know if it’s because the alarms aren’t sounding or that I’m so completely exhausted that I don’t hear them. But it MUST stop! Fucking shit! – Checked the weather report. The forecast is for the storm to begin after 15.00 here, in Maine, with chances of snow, sleet, freezing rain and the sort. I have no money to stay another night and even then, the rate will increase so I can’t afford it anyway. SO SO SO FUCKED… so so so “me”. And snow in VT. Another trip in the bad weather. But I have my route planned. No Dikwad (a.k.a. Garmin) on this trip! – (On Wednesday notes) Well, I did manage to get a bit of the breakfast in at the hotel this morning. 2 little muffins, an orange juice, hot coffee (in a mug!) and a small bowl of melon with yoghurt. Rather substantial. Orientation went breezing right along and humour was refreshing. Even Elaine said that we were the lightest and most interesting group she’d had because of our humour. Toward the end, the “Maine” folk talked about keeping in touch with each-other. Oh, and there was a tour of the facility! I enjoy that. The place is relatively new and so clean! I had 2 more sliced of pizza for lunch only because I was thinking of the trip I had to drive this evening. I can’t afford it but… it’s not my car, it’s not a rental and there’s going to be some kind of challenge to make this trip back. And the rental has to go back tomorrow so I MUST be there for that. No choice… gotta drive. – At the end of orientation, the PMRs were allowed to leave at 15.00 and the rest of us had another hour. But I didn’t really get out of the parking lot until almost 17.30 and… it was snowing already. One of the guys told me to take the 95 south for a bit, catch the 101 to the 93 to the 89. Sounded like the best idea, and he said the tolls would come to 1,75$ so I figured I’d give it a try. – Got the 95 going south and the trip began… and so too, the Winter storm! The road was so covered that we went along at an average speed of 35mph! Now, Mike, the guy who told me I could be in Burlington in just about 5 hours told me that I’d be on the 95 for a short while… when it got to be a long while, I put Dikwad on and, of course, the directions were to get off the Interstate! I hadn’t seen the signs for the 101 so I tried it… and ended up in BIDDEFORD! BUT IN THE MIDDLE OF NOTHING AND NO-WHERE! At one little intersection, I came to a General Store where people were hanging out. I decided to head back to the Interstate, on nothing more than gut instinct. There was a small school where some kind of meeting had taken place. People leaving and such but nobody available to ask directions so I just continued on and suddenly… I was back in the business district of Biddeford at the Wal-mart and back to the 95! It had cost me 1$ to get on the 95 and of course, here was another 1$ to get BACK on the 95! I was down to about 15$ in cash and that was IT! AND… there was the gas to get, at least, to VT from here… in a snow storm! OK. So I decided to keep going. – 35mph on packed snow, crawling along, white-outs from the trucks passing… there were moments when the trip brought back the memories of travels down the Northway, there were moments when it made my back spasm and the numbness in my legs. All told, this was not a really pleasant drive. – I passed the exits for Saco, Old Orchard and Kennebunk (and Kennebunk Port!). Places that I knew from hearing about them. Imagine, Janice (Flood) was form Saco. How many times we talked about it in the Bainbridge Garden! Old Orchard… she’d told me SO much about that place. And here they were, and here I was and it was dark, snowy and I had neither the time nor the money to visit. And another 200-plus miles to drive! Before I left VT, Bob said “Have fun.” and I told him that I wasn’t going to “have fun”. Nope. I didn’t. – Then came… ANOTHER TOLL! THIS ONE WAS 3$! Money was literally flying out the window! I asked about getting to the 101 and was told to just keep going. So? I just kept going… at 35mph over the packed snow and through the falling snow. It just got worse with every bit of moving forward. There was a car that had slid off into the meridian. There were trucks passing and kicking snow up. White-outs and the likes. And I kept going. – THEN! New Hampshire! THE EXIT! I made it that far! And it took well over an hour for a trip that should have been considerably less. But I was out of Maine and into New Hampshire and that was progress. OK then. GAS! I stopped at a little station and got the last 25$ on the gift card that Bob had given me (the one he’d gotten from Penny and Bruce!). Hey! At that moment my thought was that I didn’t want to use the card, but better to use it for gas to get his car back than… well… there was no choice at this point. In this little station I asked about getting to the 101 and the Indian fellow told me that I could either get back on the road and follow it to the 101 or, considering the weather, the best way would be to get back on the 95 and take the exit for… the 101. I opted for the 95… and… of course… ANOTHER TOLL! When I got off the exit for the 101, I asked the nice toll-lady how far it was to the 89… in good weather, about an hour. OK. It would take longer but that was OK. The 101 would get me to the 89 and that was, at this point, my ultimate goal. And so… onto the 101. Thankfully, it was a regular highway, 2 lanes in each direction and open and relatively straight. And still, about 35-45mph in the snow. But I was feeling just a bit better… but WAY down to 13$ in cash… total. – All this way there was no music in the car, no radio. I didn’t want ANY distractions at all!!! – After what seemed quite a while, and I don’t even know how many miles or how long in time… LEBANON… NH… THE BORDER OF VT! I stopped off at a service station, put the last 10$ into the gas tank, almost filling it (WHEW!) grabbed 2 candy bars (a Charleston Chew and a Zero). I filled the “coffee bottle” with water in the men’s loo and made more coffee for the rest of the trip and… I was off onto the 89… NORTH! It was a little better driving too. Just at Sutton, NH (a town name I felt good about) the roads started to clear quite a bit. By the time I hit the VT border, the roads were only wet. It was as if the storm had missed the state of VT completely! But the little bit of traffic that was on the road was rolling along nicely. I plugged Dikwad back in, just to see what kind of directions I’d get and sure enough… “exit on the right”. FUCKWAD PIECE OF SHIT! The 89 would take me directly up to St. Albans but this piece of shit would have me running right back into NH and all over the fucking world in the middle of the night in snow storms. JEEZUS KRISTE! I simply un-plugged the damned thing, wrapped it neatly and put it into the back-pack. DONE! (Oddly, as it was shutting down after being un-plugged, the voice kept telling me to take the exit! The shit’s haunted as well as being completely useless.) – The rest of the drive went very smoothly. The road was only wet, and what little traffic there was was rolling along. I put the iPod back in, listened to the music and SANG at the top of my lungs! (I noticed tonight that the music that once pulled at heart-strings doesn’t do that any more. There’s almost no emotion attached to the songs that used to bring back wonderful memories, would make me nostalgic, were closely attached to some one, some place, some event. I believe my emotions are dead… dead… dead. Not that they haven’t been murdered. It’s been many years of much turmoil, pain and suffering. It seems now that even the soul has died. But you know? I don’t… I just don’t give a fuck-shit about it any more. I just don’t.) – WELL! At LONG last… ST. ALBANS! THE EXIT! THE TOWN! THE FAMILIAR TURF! And I drove almost on instinct and auto-pilot. The roads in Franklin County were clear. It was as if the whole event was nothing more than a bit of a bad dream. – It was about 24.30 when I finally pulled up in front of the house. The house was dark, no lights on. I decided to use the back door to avoid all the barking of dogs, had I used my key to the front door. So I trudged through the snow, after all the driving through the snow, and in through the kitchen… up the stairs and to my room where the door was open, the little gate was across. – Randy was awake, on his lap-top. We chatted a bit. Woke Bob. Randy told me that he’d opened the door to let some warmth into the room. (He also smiled and waved happily when he saw me. I wonder: it’s seemed that he disliked me… but this was a little bit of a shock… pleasant shock, but still.) Bob seemed a bit “removed” but then, he had to be awake to get to work in the morning and he was probably groggy from being asleep anyway. So I came in to the room (still cold… but then, that room never actually gets warm enough to be even considered “comfortable”), un-packed, got ready to get into bed. I opened the two Redds that I’d put on the window sill, downed them and waited to see if that little bit of ale would help un-wind. It really didn’t, but in some moments, I was ready to put the light out and try for some sleep. – THIS was ONE HELL OF AN EXPERIENCE! All for the sake of getting a fucking job that probably won’t come through anyway and even if it does… I just don’t give a shit. I’m tired of all of this… just so GOD-DAMNED FUCK-SHIT FUCK-ALL SICK AND TIRED IF IT ALL! But at least it appears that I’ve made an effort and gone well beyond what many others would have endured. And, for tonight, I’d made the journey and was back in VT. 617,3 MILES!!!!!
Wed.18,Dec: 2.38 Jotting notes for yesterday having finished doing a spread-sheet for expenses. All considered, my “budget” wasn’t bad. The trip? NO MORE GARMIN EVER AGAIN!!!! – Having the 2nd “Red” before bed. I need to REST AND TO GET TO THE PO IN THE MORNING! Spoke with Randy. He opened the room door when the boiler got fixed. Thankful to him. Bob woke, spoke, went back to bed… Poor guy. I should be tired.. I’m hungry. – THERE’S A BLOODY FLY IN THE ROOM! – Oh well… welcome back to VT. (I need to get my shit act together and get back to Richford!) (Need a car damn it1) –
18.32 Women should be prohibited from ever working in a field or position requiring any social responsibility:
Ahlena: made living in the house where I rented, impossible to be in, with her constant weed-smoking and nightly different lays, then makes me appear to be impossible and forces me out of the house, and took my good air-conditioner so I couldn’t get it when I moved. What a gender-specific group of grand fuck-ups!
Cynid: back-stabbing, weak-minded idiot, bad marriage, contemplates murdering her low-life husband, brings a child into a miserable marriage and home-life because she”wanted another child”, then invited me into her home after not communicating with me for 10 years (which was all due to her own stupidity, initially), then connives with husband and brother to toss me, telling me she’ll cover storage costs and then decides not to pay the storage rent, lets my entire life-time be auctioned and covers it with an e-mail stating “I’m so sorry….”.
Margot: takes advantage of me for over a year, expecting me to wait on her with my all then trumps up a court case that sticks with my name on the Internet, long after she’s dead with a negative reference to a court case. (18.40 going to bed. I;m so exhausted that it’s painful.)
Oh, and tells me to go into the Shelter when she tosses me (having had done with me…)
Fran: invites me into her home and knows that I’m working at the time and need to get sleep but makes it so that I can’t get any proper sleep and I end up sleeping in the car… in front of the house and going to the local park to sleep on the grassy areas there.
Diane Olsen: and the Days Inn where, because of her drug abuse, she jumps at the police, presses charges for a felony… a FELONY and I have a criminal record at the age of 58!
Nancy: tells me that she’ll help with the storage situation by interceding and trying to get through to talk with somebody there about “3rd party” payments and the likes and then? I get all sorts of brief e-mails whining about how tired she is from work and how busy she was all day and bitching about not getting any answer when she called and claiming that she didn’t even get a voice-mail prompt. (And I find out that that’s not the case… that the storage place had no records of any voice mails… meaning that she didn’t even bother to wait for a voice mail prompt) so… I now have nothing…. NOTHING! and she sends an e-mail (just like Cyndi) “tough about stroage but I guess it had to happen”. YOU FUCK! YOU TOTAL, UNADULTERATED USELESS FUCK!
Jenniifer Menard: Today I learn that this bitch is already screwing me by “reporting” to the one who is supposed to be my PM… I hang out in the PO for over an hour (I’d been talking with her… Jen), I lost revenue by suggesting that a woman who needed to post time-sensitive mail send via Canada Post, and that I was in the lobby discussing politics (I’d been talking with a woman about NYC politics and comparing with VT AND… I hadn’t even received notice that I was hired with the PO at the time!)
No. Women are inherently inept. There’s a mental deficiency there. And I make that as a general statement because I know that my own Mother would NEVER behave in such an infantile manner! WHAT A BUNCH OF USELESS SCUM RECEPTACLES! We truly should return to the days when they were kept at the house to maintain and clean, cook and drop off-spring. THAT is what they do, that is just about all they’re good for.
-This afternoon I rang the FoodStamps number, expecting to be told that I was late for the interview and would have to begin from scratch but the woman (OK… imagine this… I wonder what will go wrong NOW) was kind, took my information and will be sending me a form to complete related to returning to work! (I was entirely TOO honest… yet again. So maybe I should pack the chunky-style peanut butter up my arse-hole to make it quicker for them to shove the fuck-rod up there… because that’s what’s to come.) We shall see how that goes along, meanwhile, I have NOTHING. – This evening, I drove into St. Albans to get to the credit union to get some cash. I want to get a PO box and I need to have something to get something to eat from time to time. Then on to meet Bob so that he could return the car and we could ride back to the house together. He doesn’t seem too happy about much, in a relatively odd mood. But on the drive back to the house we discussed the whole “women” issue and we seem to be on the exact same page when it comes to that. So… – Tonight’s dinner was the left-over goulash that Randy had made while I was away. I ate 2 servings of that and a bit of green salad. I still left the table hungry but the food that went in and down made me nauseous. Food… it makes me sick now. – I helped clear the table as everybody left the room. The left-overs are to be frozen (just like the turkey… so that it can’t be eaten). – I came up to the room so tired! SO SO TIRED! I just got ready for bed and crawled under the covers. The room is cold. My fingers are cold. I’m cold. I’m tired. Exhausted. Fed up.
Thu.19.Dec: 5.03 Last night, at about 18.00, I was so tired that I came into the room, put on the night-sweats (as they are)and got into bed. Shortly there-after, I couldn’t even type another letter so, I closed the lap-top (no power-down), put out the light and went to sleep… directly to sleep! This morning, I half-woke at 2.00 and then again at 4.00 and am now waking for the day. 11 hours later. My back is bothering me this morning as it’s been doing for the past few weeks but this morning it’s worse. But after 11 hours of sleeping, I’m not surprised. – This morning I’m going over to the PO to rent a box. 212 (the box and area code). I will then have perfect rights to be in the PO, and perfect rights to bitch about those who enjoy the right to a POB with-out paying. And there will be even more to discuss on the matter of Miss Menard and her back-stabbing. This morning I thought: neither she, nor Rachel want to leave that office so if they make me look bad, Cindy won’t put me in there, or will try not to, so they can stay. There are probably many reasons along that line for this bull-shit. But, as Lyle and I discussed: it’s time to level the playing field here and that’s just what’s about to happen. – 5.41 The dogs went out. I had my smoke. AND I AM IN REAL PAIN THIS MORNING WITH MY… BACK? NO. It’s more like my rectum. I wonder, this morning… Cancer? Prostate? Colon? Something. PAIN PAIN PAIN! My very existence is PAIN PAIN PAIN. – Now back to trying to catch this journal up. I’m still working on Monday. – And the garbage has to be taken to the street this morning. Bob is awake. Randy is awake. Let’s see if anybody else does the morning chores. – PAIN! – 6.17 The dogs are barking! Bob is simply telling them to “Stooooop it.” Nobody seems to have the slightest concern for anybody else in the house. Lyle doesn’t sleep well for the most part. It’s HIS house and yet… nobody else has any concern of consideration for him. The poor guy. And that barking bull-shit is so un-necessary and I just don’t understand how selfish the others can be about all of this and how they don’t have the sense to correct the situation! People… sometimes useless… so utterly useless. – I hear the car starting. I wonder if the trash went out. I’ll go check in a few moments. – My lower back is so tight that it hurts to even move in the bed. Oh well… it is what it is and will be what it will be. And another day begins… – 11.58 “Cindy from Highgate” just rang (at the house phone…. oops… woke Lyle… oops) She’s putting in my travel expenses! Now I have to get to there either tomorrow or on the week-end to sign papers and such. Good news about the finances… bad news about the travel because the next few days are… snow, snow and more snow. And I still have no gloves to the bike-ride. But, that’s the story of my life… fucked no matter what. (and something got the dogs barking and nobody’s stopping it. Hey… they’re not mine and not my responsibility… fuck that shit altogether.) And Randy’s mutt is just yipping away across the hall… non-stop and Randy sits right beside… doing nothing. I’m at wit’s end and just want to get the fuck out of here… this mad-house… this Bedlam… even the Shelter back in NY is feeling better. – This morning I went over to the PO to get box 212. Jennifer is working and looked rather “odd”. She probably knows that I know about her bull-shit. I merely said “I need an application for a PO Box.” She gave it to me and as I started to complete it I asked for 212. She came round, tried a key and told me that she doesn’t have the key for that box. I looked in through the little glass to notice that she has a section of boxes blocked from behind with something and 212 is part of that section! Then she came back with the key to 204, lower along the lines and said “204 is yours”. I told her I’d rather wait for the key for 212 to come in and she said “That could take a while.” I just returned her pen and said that this was unacceptable behaviour for the postal service… and left. No chat, no congenial. When I got back to the house, I filed a complaint on-line. This morning I was a customer. And… if she’s going to twist events to suit her purpose, then I will play by the USPS rules. Then end. – And now, at 12.09 I’m caught up with the journal. – OH OH OH! Cindy told me today that the PO covered THREE DAYS at the hotel! They would have covered the extra day! Of course, I couldn’t stay because I had no money! I didn’t mention the car rental.. but then, unless I end up owing them… and I probably will… that 160$ for the car rental was actually the 150$ for the food allowance I suppose. But, no matter how that works, I know I’m going to end up having to pay something back and so… there goes my first pay-cheque on the 3rd January. See, I know these things. – Right now my blood sugar is dropping like mad. my lower back pain is in over-drive, my nerves are shot and well… my general mood and such is spiralling ever down-ward. Randy and Lyle are awake so the only way I’m going to get anything to eat it to go to the store, pay a fortune, and hide in the barn in the cold. I SO fucking want to be dead… QUICKLY AND SOON! – (later in the day….) It’s strange, how some things happen.. My PM rang the house phone today to ask about the trip to ME… She’s trying to get all my travel expense papers done. (Why? I don’t know and I’m not too comfortable with this “nice” bit. I just don’t trust the lot of them… particularly because they’re… women.) And she says she needs me to sign some papers. Well, that’s fine. I started in by checking the weather forecasts which are all for the same thing… snow… but if they’d been for sun they’d be wrong anyway. Then came the planning for walking or biking and what to wear since I have no warm foot-wear any more (thank you Nancy) and that last trip into Enosburgh to get the letter for the trip to ME printed nearly took my toes and knees from the cold. Well, this evening, (at the last moment of course) Bob asks me what I’m doing tomorrow… seems Lyle has a doctor appointment and needs the car! That means I have to get Bob to work to bring the car back to the house which means I get to drive up to the PO to sign papers! I wonder… things are going OK without intervention…. something is terribly WRONG! However, something will go terribly wrong before it’s all done… In that, I have perfect faith. – Meanwhile, this evening I ate quite well… Randy baked chicken and made “scalloped” potatoes. Quite thin and watery, but filling none-the-less. And he baked cookies so I just took it upon myself to help myself to as many as I’d like. I ate. I was hungry. I’m still tired from the drive in the blizzards. I’m still looking forward to “check-out” for Winter. – Which reminds me… of late I’ve been so tired most of the day… the painful kind of tired where I want to moan. The slightest movement makes me short of breath. Tonight, getting ready for bed knocked the breath out of me. Oh, something is wrong… but… all thought, said and told? Who the fuck cares? – 22.00 time for lights out. Tomorrow will be…
Fri.20.Dec: 5.23 Really odd when I think, this is 5 days away room Christmas and not only do I not give a shit, but there isn’t much of anything in this house that feels or loos like Christmas. Some of it’s my doing because I never pressed the issue of making the garland ropes. Of course, there’s been other things happening, but still… no feeling, no look, no etc. – That aside, my body is giving off such an odour that it’s almost as if things inside are rotting away. Truly very foul. Maybe my suspicions are close to correct ot even on point… maybe there is some cancer running amok in there. How lovely. Oh well. – time to get me together soon. Get Bob to work, me to the PO to my PM, I can get my coffee as well this morning. And maybe even a toddle to Richford for a pack of smokes… We shall see. – 7.45 just back in from driving Bob into St. Albans… snow… snow… snow… more snow. Drive all the way back to the house at not more than 40mph, I get in the door, Lyle wants to know what the roads are like. Don’t look out the window or anything. You know? That would take too much sense. When I said it wasn’t good travel, Randy yells from up-stairs “We’re going to Wal-mart!” WAL-FUCKING-MART? In a goddam Winter Weather Warning of hazardous conditions? Fucking old women in this house! I just hate fags. I NEED to get the fuck away from this shit. I just can’t take it any more! Seriously! Lyle has a doctor appointment, I fear he won’t be able to drive so I’ll have to do the driving. With those 2 in the car? I haven’t driven a car full of Old Queens in years. Didn’t like it when I was 17… HATE it even more now. I have to get to the PO in Highgate. I’m giving it second thoughts. The weather is supposed to be bad even through tomorrow and I’d have until 11.00 to get to the PO then… on foot. But the old women have to go to Wal-mart. Not only is it a matter of the money they whine about not having, bills not being paid, but the house is full of shit that there’s just no room for, there’s enough food to feed the entire state of VT, there’s nothing that’s so fucking important that it MUST be gotten NOW. Just like old women… we HAVE to go to Wal-fucking-mart! Well… hopefully I won’t have to drive. This is making me sick. – Add to this, I’m trying to figure how to get to the fucking “Window Academy” bull-shit in Essex… OK, in January… but seriously? Old women, school girls, fags. – 8.01 It’s bloody cold in this room again. I’m half dozing as I type. Randy went back to sleep. I need a bit of a nap. The snow is changing to rainish-snow, and now I have headache… sharp, left temple into the eye and teeth. I wonder if I have a case of CHF because there are symptoms that would indicate. Oh just let me get to work and klunk-out. Or, let me get on the road HOME and drop dead. What-ever. – 10.22 Just back from a trip to the Highgate PO to turn in the paper-work for the trip to Portland and, after having done so, I feel a sense of foreboding. There are rough waters to be tread come the future. I’m starting this new job by walking into a hornets’ nest of old woman attitude and general infantile behaviour. When I heard the words “… the way I was told…” and “… as I understood it…” the truck came down the 2-lane road, careening at top speed, heading directly for me with a blind driver at the wheel. There will be much to deal with in the very near future. However… I was also told that I am eligible to work “back-office” for a while and that “Jen” will be getting in touch with me about hours. OK. Fine. Time to think “tranquilizers”… and I’m not certain which of us will be needing them. Me? I can handle the differentiation between personal and professional. But “Jen” is a woman… and they can’t handle such things at all… as a rule. So> So. Here it comes… I mean, I got along ever so well in Pine Bush, Walker Valley, Cragsmoor, Wurtsboro, and Tompkins Ridge. Vermont, how-ever, doesn’t appear to be any of those… I might be loved and I do love Richford… not necessarily the PO but… but Richford is not Franklin, nor is Franklin, Richford. So, I document this today, here, and hopefully I will be proven wrong. – 11.29 I brought the ThankYou for Bruce and Penny over to the PO. Rachel AND Jen are working. The card went at 46¢ and Jen, all smiles, asked if I’d brought my time card. I said “Oh, why didn’t she tell me when I was there?” and Jen replied “She just called to tell me that you were bringing your time card.” (OK. Cattybitchy women-thing.) So I came back to the house, got the time card and brought it in, gave Jen a piece of paper with the house phone number on it… in case of immediate need… and Jen tells me that she’s got me on for Monday morning, 7.30!!! to 11.30!!! WORKING! OK! (Now let’s see what happens between now and then.) – Right now, I need a nap! – 20.18 The phone calendar is telling me “GO HOME!” Indeed… tomorrow just might be the day. – I did take that nap. For just over an hour. And I had a…
DREAM:
I was staying or living with Silas and his mother wasn’t happy about it at all. I was in the house with Silas (in the dream, in was in Richford, but it wasn’t 19 Church) and we were talking about how his mother hated me. He got very bent and angry with me and suddenly, his mother showed at the house. She invited me to go some-where with her, in the car, and to make peace, I went. Well, we were on the highway, some sort of Interstate, and she pulled the car off to the side of the road and got out of the car. For some reason, I stayed in the car. She sat on the shoulder, speaking to me, but I couldn’t really hear what she was saying. I could only hear the traffic and could only see her face. She was sitting “Indian-style” and looking in the side window at me, speaking. I got very tired and started to nod off, sitting in the front seat passenger side, clutching my back-pack when I felt the car begin to roll. I looked out the window at Robin and she just looked at me with an “Oh well” sort of look as the car continued to roll to the edge of the road. There was a steep embankment and one of those steel cable guard-rails. I knew the car was heading for it but for some reason I got terribly tired and apathetic, closed my eyes and put by heard forward to rest on the back-pack (as I’d done in the subways when I got tired). I felt the car roll to the cable and then felt the front end of the car head down the embankment. Silently I thought “She wouldn’t let the car go over the edge.” , picked my head up and looked toward the back window. She was standing on the shoulder of the highway, looking at me and calmly spoke “It had to happen sooner or later Jude.” I moved to get to the door of the car and she calmly said “Don’t move or the car will go over.” I woke to the sound of Lyle tapping on the room door.
It was about 13.30 and Lyle asked “Would you mind driving me to the doctor’s appointment?” Well, of course not, BUT, earlier, when I’d come in to get my time card, Randy had said that Lyle asked him to go with him “so he’d have company” AND that they were going to Wal-mart. (I told him that I thought they were both out of their “fucking rabbit-assed minds” because the roads were so bad. But, as it is with everything that comes out of my mouth, I was ignored. So much so that when we got into the car at 13.50… yup… it was off to Wal-mart. – The roads had improved only slightly and there was still some snow coming down as we drove. And then, at Wal-mart, it became PAINFUL! in spite of the joy that their signage is bi-lingual… English and FRENCH! (THAT was impressive to me, of course.) Being in a store like that just kept reminding me of all the things that I used to have to furnish a small flat, all the things that I’d started to collect to get a place of my own, all the linens, the cook-ware, the appliances, the clothes, then the art, the sketches the writings… and once again, my soul headed directly into the Hell that my sister had caused and the HATE that came boiling up in the pain of all the loss and the shame that came with the acknowledgement of my complete stupidity in having trusted that qunt Nancy. PAINFUL! Right into the marrow of every bone. PAINFUL! Right into the cell-structure of my body and being. Just PAINFUL! What didn’t make it any better was being with the 2 old women, hobbling along the aisles, shopping for shit like soda, MORE PIES (there are about 5 of them in the freezer already) and other nonsense. And how they wandered, veered, looked at packaging, Randy telling Lyle what they needed and such and Lyle being particular about the contents of cat food (he won’t feed the poor cat any fish because some quack said that there’s too much mercury in it). Before we’d left the house I was asked to feed Cubby. I told Cubby, in front of Lyle, that I’d gone 4 days with-out food and managed to drive over 600miles and if I could do that then he (the cat) could wait a while before he got fed his “second breakfast”. The sympathy all leaned to the cat. Fuck me, eh? So, whilst the old women strolled I browsed a bit. Yarn: 14oz (not even a pound any more) for 6$. There went my mittens. Gloves for the cold weather… 7$ (if, in fact they were on the correct hook). I got nothing… except the urge to vomit in the store. Then came the check-out and Randy covered the whole thing (122$) with his FoodStamps and cash on the card. The girl bagged, Lyle put the bags in the trolly and I stood. I was NOT going to bag their shit! I didn’t feel comfortable driving in the first place, I’d just completed 600miles in blizzards and didn’t want to drive in any more snow, had no trouble driving Lyle to a medical appointment, but to go to Wal-mart in this weather for stupidity? Bull-shit! THEY wanted to go to Wal-mart and I was asked to drive at the last minute after Randy was asked to go along with Lyle to keep him company. So, once again… use the fool. They packed the back of the car and we went to the doctor. – Waiting for Lyle, I sketched, in silence. Randy tried to get a doctor appointment there but they wouldn’t make the appointment because that particular office didn’t handle appointments for Randy’s doctor. Too fucking bad, that. Freebies anyway. – So for a while, we sat in the reception, Randy’s mobile phone becoming an annoyance. – Bob showed, came in, sat beside me, asked for the car keys and went out for a smoke. Randy followed shortly after and I sat, sketching. It was better that way anyway because I was in a slow-and-steady boil inside anyway. – Finally, Lyle came out, asked if the others were in the car and left me alone in the reception area! FUCK! Just walked out. How typical… fags. – The drive back to the house was OK. I was silent until we got into the topic of assisted suicides. And even then i reserved my comments. I wasn’t in any mood to talk about anything. – Back at the house, I carried in multiple bags and waited for the pizza to go to table. i wasn’t going to eat and then decided that I would. 4 slices! Fuck them! Fuck me! I wasn’t going to have a 5th slice but Lyle made certain that I didn’t. As usual, when HE is done… I am as well and he’ll get up from table, grab storage containers and hastily clear the table of any food. It’s too obvious not to notice. – I finished my slice and washed the fucking dishes… some from Randy’s baking (he will NOT clean after him-self) and a pan left from SUNDAY! Honestly? The two of them sit all fucking day, will NOT feed THEIR pets, will NOT take the pets out to pee… will NOT wash the dishes… just a general lazy couple. So, it all got done and Randy came into the kitchen to open a beer! Nobody thinks about my trip to/from ME, nobody thinks how exhausting it is driving int he ice and snow, either today or the trip to Portland. But as is usual, I’m here to provider services to others (fuck that shit altogether). – Dishes done, Randy brought 3 bags of pellets into the house. The pellets are going quickly. I don’t bring them in any more because there seems to always be a bag in the house and Bob’s mentioned the expense of getting more (at 1500$ per season). But that doesn’t touch a single brain cell (if there are any) in Randy’s head nor does it get through Lyle’s 301lbs. Those two are strictly selfish to a fault! But, I did what I did, had a smoke and came up to the room to journal and to get to bed. – Oh and received notice from FoodStamps: I’m back on VHAP but not food… NOT FOOD! Fuck-tards. – 21.00 Rcht now I’m dozing/nodding again. I need a shower… not tonight. Fag-boy’s in there. I need to make a wash…not tonight, I’m too fucking tired. John’s supposed to come over tomorrow. I don’t know… I don’t care. And that’s pretty much how it goes with or for anything any more. I’d even said to Lyle earlier that I HAD a spot in my heart for animals but that it’s gone. True… it is gone. And I;m not getting it back. – 21.02 Fag-boy’s little piece of shit is yipping for no reason. Fag-boy’s yammering away. Disrespect and inconsideration. Hey! John seems to be attracted to the lop-arse… let him take it along… and good luck. Fag-boy doesn’t keep a place clean (I have to clean the stove and wash the dishes…. from almost a week ago. – Well, hopefully that’s the end of this day. I’m exhausted.
Sat.21.Dec: 7.53 WINTER!
Farmers’ Almanac: In 2013, winter begins with the solstice at 12:11 P.M. on December 21 (EST).
At long last… WINTER! And Bob and I are awake. I’m just back up in the room from a smoke. Bob said “I don’t know that you want to go out there. It’s doing this rain and ice thing.” and yes, it is. Rain. Ice. Grey. Dark. The shortest day of the year. The longest night. But it’s not the coldest. Rather warm, in comparison. But it’s WINTER… the season for HOME. WINTER. – 12.19 WINTER! WINTER! WINTER! The snow in the yard is encrusted with ice… solid ice! I wish the view out the window wasn’t of the bloody car dealership across the road. There are lovely icicles hanging from the roof… nothing even remotely like the ones in Richford, but good enough for here, I suppose. The room is chilly… my hands and fingers are cold. And I’m warming heart and soul with the thought that it’s WINTER! and I can go HOME! And even down in side me, that is what is the prevailing thought and emotion… WINTER… I CAN GO HOME! – Meanwhile, what keeps me in mind of GOING HOME is all of what is gone now… everything, essentially.
But boots, warm boots for walking… gone. Gloves… warm gloves for walking… gone. I want so much to go walking today, but the cold that gets through the sneakers and un-insulated boots is intolerable. I’ve tried already and it becomes so painful that I can’t even stand on my feet. It’s quite like standing bare-foot in the snow… painful. Thanks Nancy Lloyd, for teaching me NEVER to trust ANYBODY again for the rest of my breathing life on this earth. You have a serious problem with people and I hope that, before you destroy somebody else, the authorities find you and confine you, away from the rest of the world, where you belong. You’re very sick and quite dangerous. And indeed, I have a good base of comparison: my sister. You two are so very alike and both should be confined, away from all people. I will carry my hatred for the both of you right through my last heart-beat and breath and into what-ever waits for us beyond this existence we know. And while I breathe, I’ll continue to send the vibrating Hate out to where-ever it may go from my core. Hopefully, it will find you and YOUR “life” will be affected with as much pain, if not more, than you have given me. – That said and recorded… I will return to today… the first day of WINTER 2013, I will enjoy, remember, and … – 13.49 The back porch got cleared of the ice… about 2cm thick. I wore my flip-flops to chop and scrape, and no gloves. The front porch got cleared of the ice… a bit over 2cm. The side-walk got cleared. So too, a path to the car. I wore sneakers and cotton work gloves. I listened to the same music that I listened to last year, last Winter, in Richford. Today, it wasn’t as pleasant. Today, it’s all too laden with too many memories. It’s really rather painful. – I broke down and went to the store. Chocolate covered grahams and a Chunky. 5$ shot to shit but I need something for more energy. – It’s apparent that there’s something going un-said in the house. The general response when I speak. Perhaps Silas was very en pointe when he repeated “Passive-Aggressive” in this state. Ah well and alas for them all. Either speak or move on. If you choose to remain silent, then fester. – Christmas day is 3 days away. I’ve nothing to give. The house isn’t decorated. There are boxes of decorations in the barn. I shoveled a path. Curtis plowed a large path. No-one has gone to get the decorations. I will not! It’s “Christmas”… their holiday, not mine. – The ice is still falling from the skies. No sooner had I cleaned, there was another light coating. I won’t worry about it. – The house is relatively quiet today. I doubt I’ll leave the room unless necessary. I should make a wash. Bob’s already done one (or more). There are clothes laying in the dryer. Fuck it all. You know? It’s not worth the time or bother to give thought. I just don’t, can’t and won’t give a shit. – Dear Nancy: I’m hoping for the same misery you caused. – 18.57 Ice. The world is encased in ice. Once upon a time I would have been out, walking, singing, taking pictures, walking, being at peace, enjoying this. Not these days. These days it’s all heavy, sad, uncomfortable, miserable. Sad… just sad. Just… sad. So darkly, heavily… sad. – 20.46 Well… the day is done. The shortest day of the year. The opening of WINTER… The ground is covered in snow, the snow is covered in ice. It’s not cold out, but not warm enough to go for the walk I’ve wanted to take. – Having no drafting table, no drafting pens, no inks, no paints has stripped my real desire to create… anything. I have a document to make for Bob and Lyle… before Christmas morning. I have no drive, nothing. The place in me that used to dance with excitement over the prospect of creating is gone. Thank you Nancy. Dead. My drawing lampe, the one that I used so often… is no gone forever. Thank you Nancy. What a delightful Christmas gift you’ve given. – I up-dated and re-arranged the pages on the journal this evening. Images are included, text is updated, and it includes a screen-shot of the confirmation that dear Nancy did shit-fuckall. may many people see it. And the “hit counter” reads 1,700. Somebody came to it between last night and this evening. Well? Fuck-it! There’s no phone to contact me and I have all of my e-mail accounts set to delete anything that comes in from the qunt. I want to see and hear nothing from that bitch… That doesn’t mean the Hate will ever go away as I reminded on a constant basis of what’s gone. But at least I’ll never be bothered with correspondences again. That’s a relief. (Of course, she’s probably as infantile and shallow and stupid as Tony and will appear some-where where I have no controls over such things. But you know? That’s to be expected. Ugly, vicious liars are just like that.) Oh well. – Meanwhile, les Vieilles were making cookies again this evening and the kitchen is FULL of baking shit. The sink is FULL of dishes and I’ve no doubt that it will all be right there come the morning. But the cookies are all put away some-where… hidden. There are, I believe, several containers of the last cookie-fest hidden in Ms.R’s chambre. Imagine that. I grabbed ONE cookie from tonight’s affair and the look I got could have qualified for a Murder-1 rap! Fuck-tard. – Ms.R. was whining about the ice on the back porch a moment ago and I suggested going and getting the chopped. Bob did point out that I’d had it all down to the bare wood and that he’d salted. But c’est la Vieille… always something to complain about. I went out to chop and shovel. Bob has been out for a smoke, and tossed some salt. But the others remained in-side… baking. How “domestique”. I could puke. – I’ve come to terms with the fact that I cannot tolerate the effeminate men. They actually disgust me. It’s not so much that they’re flaming, but when it comes to physical labour, other than the cutely shit, it’s just, well, disgusting. bad enough women are so stupid, but for men to behave in such a manner is simply unforgivable and repulsive. Getting away from this “marital” bull-shit is imperative. SOON! Getting away from the “Oh look what’s on sale at the market this week!” bull-shit is imperative. Getting away from the “I need another pain pill.” is imperative. I’ll be working on Monday morning, hauling parcels… my back (or what-ever it is) has been SO bloody painful for the past week; I never recovered from the pain of rushing on the bike to Enosburgh to print the damned form for the PO in the bitter cold; my left great toe-nail is still black from the walk across Milton back in July; I shovel and clear with-out gloves and in flip-flops or sneakers… I too, am in serious pain and the only time I mention it is on here, on this blog… this journal. Giving voice to it makes me even sicker, and listening to it.. just annoys me. I don’t give a shit about “your” discomforts… none of it/them. Period. – The SCHADENFREUDE remains. Hey! I mean, just this evening, Ms.R. (a.k.a. Fag-boy) admitted to having eaten an entire bag of crisps! Fat-arse. Ms.L. is supposed to me watching caloric intake (301lbs) and sugar, but this house-hold goes through soda (albeit “diet”) faster than a Saharan camel clan can go through water in mid-Summer. Not to mention… cookies? AND then there’s the fact that there must be AT LEAST 15 pies in the place by now. “We have to have them for Christmas.” WHO THE FUCK is coming? The State of Vermont? The City of New York? No. “The Grazers”! (I had ONE small bowl of potato soup for dinner this evening. As I sat for a bit, watching TV, Bob asked “Did you have enough to eat tonight?” I don’t know why, but HE seems to be the one who pays attention to “others”. Which reminds me: Dixie will miss me when I’ve left. She clings to me something oddly. And “clings” is the proper word. No matter where I go, she’s there, even to when I sit down-stairs to watch TV. When I eat, she sits beside me, not begging for food, but just sitting and waiting for me to finish. There’s something she senses and I’m not so sure what it is. Truth? I shall miss her terribly as well. She’s been my TRUE FRIEND. – The icicles out-side the window have gotten SO LONG! Not the “awe-inspiring” icicles of Church St. but now they’re beginning to look like “cell bars”. I’ll have to try to get some photos. – (21.11 and Ms. Dixie just came into the room… always checking.) – Tried to get a photo of the icicles outside the window… NOT. Just not supposed to be.- 11.30 I need to wash clothes for tomorrow. I’ve been awake for about 5 hours. Lyle is asleep on one sofa. Bob is asleep on the other. Ms.R is half-naked across the hall, playing computer games. I’ve been in this cold room waiting for the opportunity to make a wash. I can’t run the machine if the others are sleeping. And I’m cold and hungry and well, no, this is not going to float. At this rate, I’ll have to wear dirty clothes to my first day of work. How charming. How wonderful. Add: in a couple of weeks I’ll have to figure a way to get to Essex for more training. Yes, I’ll have gotten a pay-cheque. But who knows how much. Add: I don’t know how many days I’ll have to be in that training in Essex. I don’t know how I’ll get there. No. This is not going to float. This morning I thought: the help to get this job is, in all probability, the fact that I owe rent and if I don’t get the job, I won’t be able to pay it… and if I don’t get a job and get the money, I won’t be able to move out. I need a car now and I need to get a place. I need clothes. I need some furnishings. I need a car. I need food too. I need a phone. And it’s raining again today and by Tuesday, the temperatures are supposed to plummet. I’m at the end of the life-line. And it’s not the weather nor the season… but wow, is it ever so very dark in my soul. – No. This is not going to float. – So here I sit… again… still… yet… on this fucking computer. Silent. – 14.37 Wash is in the dryer and my toes are burning-numb from the cold. Chopping the ice on the back concrete so that somebody can get into the “garage” to get pellets to keep “them” warm. Bob got the back porch already. And when my toes defrost, I’ll get the front porch (and some of the side-walk). MsR. actually had the balls (tee hee) to ask me to shovel a path to the store! Yes, it’s only right there, next-door, but… the point: the lead for the dogs was frozen under snow and ice and under the back steps. They’re not “mine” but I got to dig it out. There’s at the very least, 15-20cm of ice on the concrete and I got to chop it up and shovel it away… in flip-flops and sweats, wearing buck-skin work gloves. MEANWHILE, Bob is on the sofa, shirtless, Ms.R. is hobbling about the place folding wash and thinking of how to get next door to get today’s newspaper (GOD FORBID we should miss a sales flier!) And Ms.L. has been back in bed from since who-knows-when this morning. There is a problem in the house-hold and, yes, admittedly, it’s mine. See, I can’t just lounge about doing nothing when there’s so much that needs to be done. My “fault”. But I keep my mouth shut and say nothing about the matter. Then too, I get to thinking: the dogs and cats MUST be fed ON TIME on a regular schedule! MUST! And we don’t feed them anything they might not like, including cold or room temperature food. MEANWHILE, I recall spending entire days in the barn, making room and cleaning it out to make it available and not so much as a glass of water was offered. Really, how the fuck does Life manage to toss me in to the most inconsiderate places? “Altruism kills.” – 14.47 My toes are still quite numb, I’m on the bed, in the sweats I wear to sleep in. The room door is open and I’m running out of coffee and smokes. I want to vomit. – 22.39 Showered and in bed. – Today I chopped the ice from the front side-walk as Bob cleared the car. A hefty 10-13cm thick. It was tough work but I put the iPod on and went at it, remembering last year, listening to the same Denis Champoux. He was new to me then. I sang along. I learnt the lyrics. I danced as I shoveled the snow from the drive at 19 Church. I was alone, but while I was in the snow, I was happy. And tonight, as I chopped the ice and the frozen rain drizzled down, I listened to the music… I wasn’t happy. I’m not happy any more. Bob asked me to go along with him when he took the car for a spin to get the oil and such moving after it had sat there encased in the ice. We drove down to and over the Riley Rd. and came back into town over the Lake Rd. At one point on the Riley it rained out-right. The trees and all are encased in ice. Last year I looked at the trees on the ch. Sutton and was amazed and bedazzled. It was beautiful! Last year I looked at the world encased in crystal ice and was amazed and saw such beauty. This year I look and saw only the ice. I don’t want to draw anymore. I don’t want to paint. I have the illuminated document that hasn’t even begun to do for Bob and Lyle. I don’t want to. I have 2 books I wanted to write. I have 2 books started. I don’t want to write. Tomorrow morning I begin a new job, a job I used to love so much. I always wanted to get back into a small town post office, to be a part of the small town and their post office. Tonight I’m not happy about that. Tonight it’s all coming round me heavily and hard and dark. I’ve actually died… just died. Nothing is left. Lies. Just so many lies. I should be rejoicing in having met Bob and Lyle and their kindness. But the pain is just over-whelming. Gone. Everything is gone. And nobody gives a shit. I’m the old patient in Calvary Hospital, dying as my insides are being rotted away from cancer… and I lay in the bed, alone, and nobody comes to see me, nobody stops by to say “Hello” or to bring even a flower picked from the road-side. I’m really alone here, in the emptiness that used to be “me”.
Mon.23.Dec: 9.49 Back in the house after only 2 hours of work. Apparently CindyPM told JenOIC that she didn’t think it was in anybody’s best interest to have me working before I get authorised to work the window because she (Cindy) is concerned that Jen will be talking with me too much and not getting the work done. And, I was told (by Rachel) that not only is Jen a chatter but that when Jen covers another office, there is no getting through on the phone because Jen is always on it. So, it probably is in my best interest not to be there…. right away. No sense having something go wrong whilst I’m on duty. Although, the money for the 2 hours this morning won’t come in until the 17th January. But hey, this is OK too. I have nothing to declare for taxes this year (or at least, nothing that I intend to track down. And even then, I’m simply going to say that I didn’t get the forms from Izquierdo. Period.) – I did not want to get out of the bed this morning. The 5am alarms, right up to the 6am alarms… I kept hitting “snooze”. But by 6.45 I was up, went down to smoke (Lyle was awake in the living-room), came back up, took a quick rinse-shower and was there at 7.30 as expected. Bob went to work in spite of everything being covered in ice. (How I wish I had my boots and such… it’s treacherous but beautiful out there this morning! But I really don’t have it in me to take photos… nor to get to work on the illumination for Bob and Lyle… I’m getting tired again.) – 24.26 (OK. So it’s actually the 24th but…)
Someone once said: The greatest burden an artist carries is the fact that artists see the world as it should be and can’t understand why it isn’t.
Tonight I have an endless ticket to all the places I’ve ever been, and all the places I’ve never been. I have passage to places others have seen and to places that only I will ever see. Tonight I have the ability to travel, to explore, to see, hear and tell about not only what the world sees of itself, but what the world will never know about itself… or me. Tonight I have the gift of presenting to others, the world… as it should be, and to lighten the burden of wondering why it isn’t.
There are no words, and there is no way to express the gratitude that I have inside, not simply because of the gift from Bob and Lyle but because they actually thought, not just of a gift but of me, who I am and what is so much a part of me. That’s extremely rare, that others actually take the time to think of the “human being”. Tonight I am so much more than just a human being… Tonight I am the most important living being in Creation because somebody believes that I’m worth their time, their thought, and their compassion. Tonight I have and endless ticket to all the places I’ve ever been, all the places I’ve never been, to places others have seen and to places only I see… and the only way to express thanks and gratitude for such a magnificent gift is… well… to be… an Artist… again.
Thank you Bob and Lyle… Thank you SO much!
Tue.24.Dec: The day? I cleaned the room this afternoon. Dusted and Hoovered, sprayed some Lysol and some Febreeze. The clothes and the bed linens are clean. My pajama-sweats are clean. I’m not showered before bed but I’m still clean… as clean as possible. – This evening we all ate dinner together. I washed the dishes while Randy cleaned his bit of bakery-mess. Bob and Lyle went to check on John. He has no electric due to the ice storm. They brought him cookies and gifts. They returned with a light-weight, insulated jacket from John… for me. Protection from the cold! I’m not used to this, to this consideration, this compassion. ‘Im not accustomed to anyone actually giving me a thought. I’m unaccustomed to it. But the worst of it is: I don’t “Trust”. I can’t any more. That’s the lesson that Nancy taught me. If there’s a reason for people coming into our lives, that we’re supposed to learn something from those people who come into our lives, well then, this is the lesson that I was supposed to learn from Nancy: NEVER TRUST ANY-ONE AGAIN! NEVER! And I don’t. There’s no cynicism left any more. Now there’s nothing but complete distrust. I’ll do what it takes to keep things as calm as possible… I’ll be “friendly”… “friendish”… but I’ll always be fully prepared for the ultimate… the attempt, the constant and continual attempt to destroy some other part, or all of me. NEVER TRUST ANY-ONE, EVER AGAIN! The reason for the attempts at destruction aren’t clear. As a matter of fact, I don’t know what they are or what they could possibly be. And I no longer give a shit. But I do know that there is no-one who can be trusted… no one… not even one. -14.25 Well, it’s been quite the day. The sun has been shining, Bob took me along on a trip to St.Albans… he wanted to get wipers for the car and then brought me to Hannaford’s where I GOT COFFEE!!! I was rather worried about running out and now? There’s enough for a while… at least until pay-day. Oh, and as we were walking about, he told me that he and Lyle “want you to keep at least 50$ from your first pay to buy something for yourself…” When I asked “Like what?” he said something about clothes. OK. Thank you. (And the gift card that he gave me before I left for Maine? That was part of my Christmas gift! Apparently they’re giving Randy one as well… Me, I’m stressing that I needed that card to bring the car back from Maine… and… there’s been no mention of the cost of renting the car… but I suppose he’s looking at it – more or less as I do – as an expense that I would have had one way or the other… and not as something that I might be reimbursed for. But you know what? I don’t really mind or care at all.) – The world out there is MAGNIFICENT! and had I the warm clothes (that are now gone, thank you Nancy, so much) I’d be out and walking and taking pictures. But since I don’t have the clothing, I took a few shots out back. Not spectacular but not too bad, none-the-less. – AND… I find out today that the Skype number is still working! I still have a working number to receive calls on, so long as I leave the computer on and connected. Imagine that! All the way back to March of this year… from Richford days. Not that it means all that much to me now, but it’s there for another 3 months… until March 2014. Well, hell. Oh. It was the one that N. helped me get. I’d told her how to get the one that was closest to the Google number but she didn’t bother to go one click further than I’d asked her to. That should have shown me right away just how “friend” and how much she “cared” back then. I’m so fucking stupid… most times. – Anyway, there’s that news. And Meanwhile, Ms.R. is in the kitchen whilst Ms.L. lounges. I’m so tired and it’s so cold but the house is so quiet (save the yipping of the shitter. Oh, but I got my little digs in: Seems les Vieilles left cookies on the table with-in Dixie’s reach and she, Dixie, helped her-self to one! TeeHee. Les Vieilles got all bent out of shape and be-moaned and when they did, I got my shot in: At least she doesn’t piss and shit on the carpets. Which neither of them could argue. HAH! I said in a light tone of voice so… fukkem if they can’t take the truth. – This morning I took what few pieces of art-work I have out of the bag they’ve been in. I don’t know what I’ll do with them but in there was the piece I’d made for Silas and the CDA5 and the 1$ from Huntington Gorge that was in the water when Silas and I went swimming (2011 Summer). AND the fortune from the cookie I got when I took Silas to Montréal for his birthday dinner in Chinatown. All I wanted to do was sit someplace quiet and hold them… melancholia. Indeed. But there are more paints waiting to be put to use. Now all I need is paper and t-shirts and such. Yesterday the “art” in me was dead. Today? I approach the idea of “creativity” with doubt. – Lyle’s sister wants to talk with me about making cards and selling them in MA. Lyle says I could sell them here in VT as well. I just need to focus. (I mean, I should be working on their Illumination but here I am. – Drowsy now. I think I’ll be napping in a bit. – Xmas eve… what a fuck. – 18.38 Nauseous. 1 tablespoon baked beans, 14 french-fries, 2 franks (1 on roll, one shoved down the throat, plain). Dinner. 1 Charleston Chew, 2 Milky Way (small). Intake. Now… Tired. Went out for a smoke. BITTER! – 19.37 Just reading last year’s entries: I helped Silas deliver his route last year today. – (I’m so tired. Ms.R. is in bed, has been for about 30 minutes. The house is quiet. I want a smoke and to get into bed and sleep… until I stop sleeping and just don’t wake up.) – Silas was logged-on Skype today. I still don’t understand why I miss him. It makes no sense. But I do. He’s a part of a time in my existence when, in spite of all the pain and suffering (I had the chance to review last year’s Journal… the reason I keep all of this on-line and truly need to back it up before it too gets tossed, like everything else before. They were difficult and terribly painful times, but he made them quite unique and there was a great deal of fun… and some love in them. And he was logged-on in Skype… Skype, something I’d completely forgotten about – And this evening I sat in the living-room with Bob and Lyle and watched “Nightmare Before Christmas” until the two of them had a tiff and Bob left, going off to the bed-room or some-where. And Lyle’s been in rather a snit of late. When Cubby tipped the sofa-table, I went to get him, by the scruff of the neck as usual and Lye went into another one of his “they say” bull-shit tirades. “They say…” and Lyle actually pays attention, eating and savouring every syllable… like some following idiot. So tonight, I simply told him “I’ve had at least 4 cats in my life-time and this is the way I’ve lifted them all. But I’m too stupid to know whats right and what’s wrong.” Bob chortled when I said it. – So I watched the movie and went to the kitchen, fed all the animals (they need food, just as I do… especially Dixie, the poor dear. She and I know hunger.) I got the dishes washed and poured me a drink… had two actually. Finished the one bottle of vodka. There wasn’t all that much in it to begin with but I indulged and enjoyed and finished it. Bob bought another, after asking me what kind I liked (he bought a cheap brand but… apparently I’m the vodka drinker in the house and it was done for my benefit?). So… who the fuck cares really? I had my drink… Vodka and ginger ale… and I brought it up to the room. (I mean, really… I should be able to sit on the sofa and enjoy? Perish the thought!)
Wed.25.Dec: 3.43 Christmas morning just getting to lights out. – I left Lyle watching the yule log thing on TV and wished him Happy Christmas at about 1.20. Came up to the room, hit the social media. Tonight I took the leap and sent a message to Silas via FB, primarily to ask if there’s a reason I should offer apologies, asking if there’s reason why he should be angry with me. I don’t expect to get a reply and if I do, I certainly don’t expect it to be kind. (I also took the precautions of blocking his “mommies”… both of the bitches.) – And… lights out. – And so this is Christmas… and what have you done? Another year over and a new one just begun.. Fuck it. Fuck me. Fuck them… all. Fuck the world. – Now I lay me down to sleep and pray I don’t bother to wake… ever again. – 11.12 Well of course, if I’m just getting to sleep at 3.43 I should be just waking at 11.12, eh? Bugger-fuck it all! The day is shot. Oh well. Who cares? Not i. Nothing to do, no-where to go… OH! I wanna be sedated. (Lovely thought… permanently.) – Warm bed though. i kept the warmer on last night and even the room feels not too bad. Must check the météo. The “DikRite” hill is still all sparkly, covered in ice. – MsR is up. Bob too, I think. Lyle and I? Oh well… – Sutton is Minus 19. No temperature from St-Armand or Freilighsburgh. Maybe they’re with-out power. – 14.04 WOW! Just when I thought I was the worst possible example of humanity… Just came up from a smoke (DAMN! IT’S GONE BEYOND “SNAPPY COLD” TODAY!) I find Lyle in the living-room, sniffing. He’s been crying. Christmas morning, he and Randy were in the kitchen, cooking all sorts of food for the day and, as he tells, he found apiece of paper on the kitchen table. He went to move it and noticed it’s a note… from Randy… informing the house-hold that he (Randy) is leaving. To leave a note like THAT… on Christmas day? OK THEN! Me? Not so bad-assed any more. I mean, of ALL the days and in all the ways… No THAT’S bloody-fucking miserable. Then again… this is Vermont, the land where drama absolutely MUST exist at ALL times, under ALL circumstances, no matter what or how the conditions, circumstances. There’s absolutely NO décorum. None at all what-so-ever. And in my book? THIS is THE definitive definition of “FAGGOT”! – Meanwhile, this room, even with the door open, is so cold that my fingers are almost numb as I type and my toes, even with socks on, are going numb. Winter… it’s here. – 20.18 Well, Christmas day is done. The dinner is done. The dishes are done. The kitchen clean-up is done. And, well… done. – I got to see the note from Randy. Indeed, it was written today and yes, it’s about leaving. Rather cryptic. Doesn’t say where he’s going, only that he’s bringing that little bit of shit he calls his “dog” back to his sister and that he’ll be gone. To where? Not mentioned. But, the reason for the leaving? Because that little piece of shit pees all over the house! Rather than take ANY responsibility, he tosses a note about leaving on the table! WOAH! What a fuck-tard! Let’s then add to this, Bob stayed in bed ALL day! Came to table.. in a bath-robe, ate in silence, finished the meal, got up and left… returned to bed. Me? I spent most of the day in the cold room, browsing through social media. (Tried phoning Fran after dinner but kept getting cut off so I gave up on that.) I went down to dinner, enjoyed the meal, almost shat right there because, well, my stomach’s not accustomed to having anything in it. Got up, washed the pots and pans immediately. – Now, I just thought: This is Lyle’s first holiday with-out both his parents, he’s just buried his father. He’s married… to Bob, who has his own bits of remourse, not having seen his children in 5 years. But Bob saw that it was perfectly in order to retire to the bed for the entire day, ignoring the rest of the house-hold, including his spouse, so that he could dodge and avoid his own personal issues in sleep… in the room… under the blankets, alone, removed. Randy has his issues, most of those are a result of immaturity and irresponsibility. Some of that is due to the fact that he’s been living on the dole for so many years, collecting an income for doing absolutely nothing but watching television and getting drunk at every opportunity to do so. Even to the point of not taking responsibility for his animal. Why the fuck he’d have any cause for any sort of depression is completely unimaginable. And yet, in accordance with the irresponsibility and immaturity, he chooses to leave a note, announcing his intentions to leave the house.. on Christmas day! – As I see it, I’ve spent my entire life-time watching my actions and words for the sake and comfort of others. Yes, admittedly, there are moments when I’ve spoken my mind and caused rather harsh feelings amongst those who have heard and those to whom those words were directed. But, for the most part, I’ve managed “décorum”, to maintain some modicum of peace, even at the expense of my own comfort and health. That is how I was brought up in this world and, to the best of my knowledge, that is how it is supposed to be. We all have our issues and troubles. We are all fighting a battle, and each battle is relative to the individual. None of us needs the issues and battles of those around us. So, it is inconsiderate, disrespectful to drop our own shit onto the faces of others. But that’s certainly not how this day went in this house. And it gives me cause to wonder and ponder: Why the fuck should I give a shit about what others think and feel of/about me? I shouldn’t. Bob is responsible to Lyle by marriage. Yet, Lyle has no trouble simply telling me that he requires my assistance at 22.00 with his IV meds. The unit he has is made for the individual to handle with ease. Yet, even last night I was required to assist because, well, Lyle is impetuous… and Bob was in bed. Again tonight, Bob, the spouse, the “legal” spouse, is in bed. It’s now 20.38 and Bob is usually in bed by 21.00… 22.00 at the latest, and so, the “responsibility” to/for Bob’s spouse becomes mine. Even Randy is back in bed! Me? I’m tired. I’d like to get into bed, under the covers, with the heated mattress pad going, and I’d like to have a cookie or two, perhaps with a glass of milk. There are MANY tins of cookies in the house… 11-plus pies that have been made for today… none of which have been touched. None of which will be touched. But I cannot go to bed, be comfortable because Lyle hasn’t the patience to deal with his own ailments… ailments which he, himself caused due to his self-neglect. I cannot go to bed because Bob, Lyle’s “legal” spouse, is wallowing in his own self-pity in the darkness of “their” bed-room. I cannot go to bed because Randy is too incompetent to handle the slightest bit of any responsibility other that those he chooses to accept, and those consists primarily of cooking… food… food that sits in the house so long that, like tonight again, so very much of it goes into the garbage! Yes, tonight, again, a massive quantity of vegetables… a salad… got tossed into the garbage to be hauled off tomorrow. And me? I sit here, typing, waiting for the bed and my pajama-sweats to warm to comfort, in this room that is so cold that my fingers are in a constant state of almost numb… waiting for 22.00 when I’ll have to take responsibility that’s not mine. – I am annoyed and I’m growing not simply annoyed but hateful of this situation. – Just before coming back up to the room, I stopped at the living-room. Lyle is picking at scabs in his beard… and eating them. His finger is covered with blood because of the picking. This too is infantile behaviour. And I asked myself ore and more of late: what the fuck have I gotten myself into here? And… how much longer will I put up with it before I simply walk out the door and… away… I will leave no note. No threat of departure. No cris du coeur. I’ll just walk out the door… and away. But for the time being, this is just insantiy… and one that I did not choose. – Merry fucking Christmas… bull-shit! – Seriously… BULL-SHT! – A notation:
There’s something about animosity with people that keeps us going. Long-term animosities and even hate become the same as love, over time. There is emotion, albeit considered “negative”. And when the object of our dislike is gone, through death or other circumstances, there is a void. The loss of the object leaves a vast emptiness in our life even though we may have not spoken with or seen the other, perhaps for periods of years, the sudden absence is a “loss” and there is an emotional disturbance in the general “harmony” that was our “life”. family members who dislike or even hate each-other for years have that “hate” to cling to. It’s a recognition of the existence of the other, the object of the “hate”. And when that family member dies, the separation causes the same sadness as what would occur had that person been loved, So I see, went this holiday in this house-hold. – 24.40 How cruel and hurtful and inconsiderate. I can’t help but keep thinking of how miserably faggot-ish that fucking bitchfag Randy actually is. But… none of my business, really. – Lyle and U watched some Dr. Who this evening. Randy and Bob in bed. Bob came down for a brief while as I was helping Lyle with his meds. They (Bob and Lyle) had some blueberry pie, I checked the pellet stove to make sure it doesn’t run out and shut down over night. It’s too cold out for that to happen and the furnace? I don’t know if it’s up and running at all. I’ve yet to hear it. I’m to understand that it was running whilst I was away in Maine. Isn’t that delightful? Warm the house in my absence. WTF? Makes no difference. None of it does… not in the greater scheme of all that is. just fuck it all as it all fucks me.
Thu.26.Dec: 0.17 BOXING DAY! AT LAST! CHRISTMAS IS DONE! The past two days of Journal are caught up as much as they will be. I’m rather hoping that I don’t get called in to work today. Back in bed rather late. I’m a bit hungry, not for sugar but for food. I always tell myself that I can make up for it in the morning, but when the time and opportunity are present, I don’t want to eat… something like last night’s “Christmas dinner” when the thought of eating made me want to vomit. That happens quite a bit of late. the thought of eating nauseates me. – Well, a bit of a check on the soc.med., post this to the on-line Journal and I need to have lights out. – It’s another cold night tonight but temperatures are supposed to be up to the freezing at some point in the next 7 days. “Freezing temperature”… and that will feel warm! – I’ve become so acclimated to the North Country again, wearing the same clothes for 5 days, no shower. Finger nails growing longer as the icicles do the same. Who would have ever thought this would come to this? Oh well. BFD as it were. The only one who notices is me and that’s of no consequence. I am of no consequence. – 8.25 And… awake again. This morning, 6.30, the barking woke me. It went on and on and on and… and Randy’s little piece of shit just wouldn’t stop and he did (as usual) nothing to stop or correct it. And me? Well, considering his inconsideration, I’ve resolved to return the kindness. I’d entertained the possibility of a chat, something to defuse. But fuck that. Really. Last night I’d asked Lyle if they’d come to a resolution. Lyle merely said “He won’t talk.” So? Fine. This morning I thought: he’s dealing with the “Master” of all of that shit. As I’ve said, to myself of course: Most people have a “Fight or Flight” response. I, unfortunately, never learnt the “Fight”, but I do have the “Flight” response down to a perfection. So there’s no sympathy or compassion here. You want to leave? Bob and Lyle brought you up here because they care very much for and about you. Repeatedly I’ve heard of what the conditions were in BTV and how terrible. Here, they’ve gone out of their way to bring you to BTV for trips, brought you on shopping trips, to medical appointments, given you free run of the house, the kitchen, they’ve included you in just about every house-hold event… and even to the point of sordid little “affairs” during the Summer, out in the yard (and who knows where-else). Me? I’ve taken the bike (8.33 Lyle came to the door. Bob phoned to ask if I’d take the garbage out. Randy did. OK then. Bob slept-in all day yesterday and couldn’t bring the garbage out? OK then. I wonder if he filled the pellet stove. But I’m rather impressed that Randy brought the garbage out. It’s been snowing, apparently for most of the night. And Randy actually brought the garbage out? My, my then.) So… me? I’ve taken the bike, through rain and bitter cold, to Richford, Enosburg, St-Amrand… I hitched back from St. Albans, walked through Milton when I brought the rental car back. I still have a black toe from that trip. I can drive and, well, to bring all to current, I didn’t ask for the car to go to Portland… it was offered. I have the coldest room in the house and go to sleep in sweats… hooded sweat-shirt, with hood up whilst you, dear fag, sit shirtless, playing computer games in “your” room. I’ve gone hungry whilst you feed your table food to the dogs. And you’re leaving. Imagine that! To this I say: One of us is a selfish bit of total shit and the other is a complete, unadulterated idiot. And it’s rather interchangeable. No… Consideration? Sympathy? Compassion? I’ve fed and tended your little piece-of-shit thing pet and you threaten to kick my arse? What a waste! A complete waste? And then you kick Bob and Lyle in the face…. ON CHRISTMAS MORNING? WOW! If I hadn’t seen, with my own eyes, that note, I’d say the whole thing is incredible. But it’s VERY CREDIBLE… I’ve SEEN! So fuck you, indeed. – So and then meanwhile… indeed the world is covered in snow this morning and as I type (fingers growing numb from the cold) more is falling. Snow, to cover all the ice. No more “Glass-covered Wonderland”. But at least the temperatures will warm up a bit. What shall I do with this day? I wonder… – 17.14 So, I got me together round about 15.00 and headed out the door to the PO to post the letter for FoodStamps and to return the library books. The snow must be about 20cm or deeper. But the temperatures are rising so it’s not too bad. There’s no clear path to the library and I’m wearing only sneakers, but that’s not the point. I got the letter posted, an exceptionally curt chat with Jen and a nice conversation with the librarian. Since I was out of the house anyway, and really in no mood to come into the depression pits, I decided to get to the shovel and so, I did and have done. The front steps are cleared, as is the side-walk to the mail-box and a path cleared to the back door. The back porch and the garage door are cleared as well. AND… I brought the garbage and recycling barrels back in. Nothing was picked up today. Now, for the funny-ha-ha: as I brought the barrels back I thought: Better to bring them in now than to wait and hear “Would you mind bringing the barrels back?” But, I thought as I was hauling barrels, since I’m bringing them back, I’ll hear “You should have left them there.” WELL!!! BINGO-BOINGO FOR ME! ZAPPEROO ON THE NOSE! I GOT IT! I came in, toes just about numb. Lyle is in the living-room alone. Bob’s taken Randy into St. Albans for a doctor’s appointment! (Yup… I believe I’ve just mention that about the bike and me and not asking for favours…?) The roads are a mess tonight too. Not plowed. But anyway… I told Lyle that the barrels are back and SURE AS SHIT IS BROWN AND FLOWS OUT OF ARSE-HOLES: “I would have left them right there. They might pick it up tomorrow morning.” FUCK-DITTIE-DOO ME! I said nothing. There’s no sense in saying anything. – And tonight again I think: People who are nasty, selfish, miserable, people who leave ‘fuck-you-with-a-long-shit-turd-down-your-throat” notes on Christmas morning, people who are generally nasty and fuck-all miserable, people who sit on their arses or lay in bed all day… THOSE are the people who are appreciated most. BUT… people who are considerate, kind, giving? OH MY EVER-LOVING FUCKING GOD! BANG-ZIP UP TO THE EYE-BALLS GOES THE FUCK-SHAFT! But me? I sit and vent on a blog and remain other-wise silent. – But Jack Malone, bless him, comes out of the detail garage across the street and yells over: “If I’d known all the benefits of a Star Border I’d’ve made a room available in St. Albans! Lawn gets mowed, snow gets shovelled.” So I replied “It’s a tough job but somebody’s gotta love it.” To which he replied “But it comes from the heart, doesn’t it?” I simply smiled and replied “It does.” – At least somebody sees and notices and appreciates the work I put in… and put out. – For now? There’s nothing being prepared for dinner and even at that, dinner wont be until Bob and Ms.R return. And I’m so tired right now and chilled that I do believe I’m going to go to bed. If i wake during the night, perhaps I’ll get some art work donw. I tried making the Illumination for Lyle and Bob today but that miserable shit-dog kept yipping and startling me so I cant work detail. maybe if I go to bed now, I’ll wake when the shit-fuckers are asleep and I can get something accomplished before they wake. 17.00 plus 6 hours… is only 23.00 but who knows? Maybe I’ll sleep until 1 or 2.00 or so?
Fri.27.Dec.: 3.47 Yes, that’s correct 3.47 I was in bed by 18.00 last night. just so tired a fucking fed-the-fuck-up with all the bull-shit in this house. Really. So it was another day of malnutrition… cookies. – I don’t know what time it was when Bob and Randy came back from the doctor but it had to be rather late. Then Lyle came to the door of the room… I mean… came to the door and knocked! We”re making sandwiches with the leftovers an the sandwich-maker machine; would you be interested?…No thank you… and next I hear through the floor is that I wasn’t interested. No, I wasn’t and no I’m not. – I’d wanted a smoke but didn’t want to bother going through all the shit of going through the kitchen and such so I stayed in bed until… I woke at round about 21.00 and then at 23.00 and that was about it until about 2.00 this morning. So there’s a long night of sleep. And this morning? Well, it’s 3.53, I’ve had my hot tap-water coffee and I’m off for that smoke. Let’s see if that fucking shit across the hall yips at me, fuck-it-I-don’t-give-a-shit. And then? A bit of art on the illumination, I believe. The room is cold this morning, of course, and there’ll be no opening of doors at this hour.. but we shall see what we shall see. – 4.08 Made it for my smoke… and silently too! I don’t know why I try to be so quiet. Ms.R. doesn’t make any effort. But that’s just me… the dumb-ass. – So now, on with this morning and the rest of the day. BFD! – Oh… the cuttings from the Christmas cactus that fell in the living-room and got stuffed into the pot hanging in my North window? BLOOMING this morning! I wonder… – 6.08 This has been a wasted morning. The room’s gotten so cold that I can’t sketch because I can’t hold a pencil properly. And I’m sitting here with my hood on my head. This is fucking ridiculous! Just fucking ridiculous! – 6.24 It’s gotten so cold in this room that I’ve taken to getting back into the bed with the warmer on. Just came up from a smoke. Bob was in the kitchen, having a slice of blueberry pie. He asked if I was going to work today (and if I’d worked yesterday). I don’t bother discussing the issue of work. I just don’t bother. (There’s actually a snap-cold draft in this room, blowing across my face, as I sit on the bed typing. Almost an actual “breeze”! And my fingers are going numb from the cold.) When he left, I noticed the pellet stove is turned down ever so low. Part of me wants to go turn it up, with the hop of warming this room, but there’s a stronger part of me that is actually happy, because the house will cool and the rest of them (the other 2) will feel the cold now. If only I could open this door some-how and let the cold in this room permeate through the rest of the house. But it would go un-noticed anyway. So I’m going to try to warm me a bit under the covers, hope that body heat runs through to the fingers and maybe get back to the sketch, the illumination I want to work on but can’t at the moment because of frozen fingers. Oh, this cold is just getting on my last nerves. – For the past 2 hours I’ve been on-line… social media and the likes. Wasting time… just wasting time. If I had my boots and scarf and gloves, I’d go for a walk at least. But… fucked again. – 7.24 I’m so cold. It’s snowing. I’m going for a nap… after what… 10 hours of sleep? I’M SO HUNGRY!!! – 9.35 Just back up from a raid on the fridge for 4 slices of bread and some cheese… cold. Some cookies. The phone rings… Alburg PO. They want me in for a couple of hours tomorrow morning! I said yes and now I have no way of getting there. Fucked! OK. I’d put my “loot” (food) in the room and left the door open for some warmth (I didn’t want to get out of bed because it’s so bloody cold in here this morning) and one of the animals got up and into it! FUCK! THIS is NOT going to be even a trace of redeemable day. – I’m sick angry and upset and now I have to figure out how, if at all, to get to fucking Alburg by 7.00 tomorrow morning! – It’s so fucking cold in here that my fingers aren’t working on the touch-pa on the lap-top! – 23 miles to Alburg and 2 hours by bike… and that’s in good weather. But that means leaving here at about 4.00… in the cold. And me with-out warm foot-wear. Oh this is going to be just great! – Weather for tomorrow: 20% snow showers after 1.00am then 40% snow showers before 15.00 tomorrow. High 33°F and low 21°F. It’s going to be tough but… it’s Saturday. Shouldn’t be too bad at all. And I have today to figure foot and hand wear. My two biggest concerns. And hey! I get to bike across CHAMPLAIN! – 12.42 OFF THE HOOK FOR TOMORROW! NO ALBURG! NO BIKING THORUGH THE SNOW! I can only replace PMs! (When it ws discussed with Lyle? Same shit as this morning with Jen about Kathy’s compassion for PMRs… NEGATIVE! “That really limits you.” not “How about that?” or “Well, you have a job.” Fucking nasty negativity. When I spoke with Jen about how Kathy and Barry both said that a PMR’s job is difficult because PMRs take full responsibility for an office with-out benefits and a considerably smaller pay, Jen immediately jumped on the “I’m surprised she still had her job. That’s so negative and talking-down about your boss.” Fuck these people. All of them. Really!) – And it amazes me: Somebody who hasn’t had a job and hasn’t even bothered to look for a job for so many years can sit and try their best to negate a job that somebody else has. The job might be meagre, but in this economy, these days, ANY job is a JOB! But NO! Some people can’t pass up the opportunity to be negative. I truly need … NEED to get the fuck out of here! Two of them, stay i n bed until the last minute, will sleep the entire day away on sofa or chair, make a huge matter out of preparing ONE fucking meal, and even then, can’t get it done on time, then will NOT wash a dish with-out making it all into a dramatic opera scene. And yet? The money comes in… delivered to the house or directly deposited into the banque so they don’t even have to move for that much! This is making me pissed the fuck off. I NEED to GET THE FUCK AWAY FROM THIS SHIT! – 14.34 It just really struck me: When I thanked Lyle for being so understanding about the phone calls from work this morning, he said “Just tell them not to call before 10:00 in the morning.” WHAT THE FUCK? WOW! If a post office opens at 8.00? Don’t cal before 10? Are you fucking… No, wait. Yes! He IS! Yup… NEED NEED NEED TO GET THE FUCK OUT OF HERE! – 16.04 The day-light is disappearing and so too, my energy. I’ve managed, for the mot part, to avoid the house-hold, but even so, it’s getting to me. Lyle managed to have 1/4 of a blueberry pie for breakfast and has slept most of the day away on the sofa with his little pal seated on the other sofa, both plastered to the TV. I went back to the PO to get my glasses case (I found the glasses in my shirt pocket!) and not much chit-chat there. I was hoping to talk, just to stay away from the house, but… The snow is still falling. I’ve corresponded with Zue a couple of times. But for most of this day? Shot to shit. And it’s time to start looking for another place… how I’ll afford it is yet to be seen, but if it’s not another place in which to reside? First good day and I’ll be HOME. (In reality, that’s what I’ve been waiting for anyway.) I hardly recognise me in the mirror today. Pale. Grey. Drawn. This place is starting to drain my energy. It’s been so cold and dreary and opinionated and negative. I think I’ll shovel the snow again and tonight, by about 18.00… back to bed. Sleep… the great escape. – (Yes, now I do suppose this is depression.) – 18.47 The front and back porches are shoveled. The snow finally stopped. (I think I damaged my right hand chopping the ice but the work got done.) The garage and recyc. barrels are in the “garage”. I “ate” with all at table: 12 green beans, about the same pieces of yam and 2 tablespoons of the ham salad. Just enough to say that I participated. Yes, I’m hungry. It doesn’t matter. I’m also thirsty as all hell but there’s no way to get to any of the faucets and besides, right now, after the issue of the telephone this morning, I don’t dare “take” anything more. It’s burdensome to feel as though everything is being “taken” and not “deserved”. This won’t go on much longer. So, I’m back in bed, in “jammies”, ready for lights out on this day. It’s about to be a long week-end if the weather doesn’t co-operate. I’m hoping to get in a walk… perhaps to HOME, perhaps to Home. But just not staying in the house. It’s going to be tough though. Not eating and going out for a day-log walk. But when one is not wanted about, one does what one can to not be about.
Sat.28.Dec: 9.57 This morning’s alarm sounded, I had to turn the bloody phone off to turn the alarm off. Piece of shit. And then went back to sleep. I was still awake at mid-night last night! But from about 19.00 to 20.00-something, there was riotous laughter in the living-room whilst I tried for sleep. Oh well. The focus is on getting a quiet place, a place where I can write, draw, paint, be at peace… in solitude again. Or… simply to go HOME. I prefer the latter thought. – This morning, Bob and Ms.R. are out on the road some-where and I think: Yesterday, I was planning on being on the road, on the bicycle at 4.00am this morning to get to work. Work. Imagine that! Work. Something I spend most of my waking hours thinking about and planning in a house of people (other than Bob) who spend most of my waking hours sleeping in various places about the house. As I shovelled the snow and chipped at the ice yesterday, a most disturbing thought: Margot… I’ve found not one but TWO of her reincarnations! WHY? WHY the FUCK do I get this dumped on me? No work ethic. And yet so fucking opinionated about those who DO work! Clueless to a complete fault and yet… opinionated. It’s depressing, disgusting. Then too, the rumours, from the border to the local folk, about “temper”, “tantrums”, “bad attitude”. I’m now pre-cccupied with the thoughts of when I’ll be the brunt end of it all. And I know, damned-well, that the moment is coming, lurking just beyond where I can actually see it. It’s the “Uloma Syndrome”: the job’s not good enough. Well. I must also keep in mind that the “not good enough job” at the Shelter, was the job that got me OUT of the Shelter; that I ignored the negativity then and must do so again. – And this morning, the thought of the manuscripts, the drawings in the Shelter Journal, the 55 Sketches… gone. “How can I help?” and how sincerely I was so thankful, so grateful for the offer and how, for the first time I actually accepted the offer, and put my needs out there. And how it boiled down to tossing a couple of dollars at me. Throw money AT. I didn’t ask for the money, I asked for a phone call, a few moments in time. WOW! There’s nothing lower than offering help and not even giving a few moments of time. And these are my morning thoughts. – Once again, the world turns ugly-sour. One of these days the weather and situation and circumstance will turn to favourable. POUF! DONE! END. And I sit, hungry and cold, confiding in nothing other than this Journal… silently. – Fuck you people! And I don’t mean that with any sort of romance or associations with any pleasure. I most certainly do not! – Note: the less I eat, the worse the bowel movements… they become uncontrollable and painful. This morning was another one. I grasp the vanity or what-ever is close to keep from groaning aloud. – How much more? I wonder. – ***** (1.39 on Sunday morning) *****
Just in from a walk, up the Morses Line Rd. to the Richard Rd. I heard the ice and snow falling from the trees. Off in the distance, across the field, in the woods to the West, I heard a large tree give under the unbearable weight of the ice and snow. It made a deep crackling and then a thunderous rumble… in the darkness there. The road-side is beautiful. Black and white. Snow still on most of the trees. It was so peaceful, so quiet. The complete contrast to the fracas in the house tonight before I went for the walk. The faggot started even more shit today. A day that I’d spent working on the velum illumination for Bob and Lyle. How strange… I was listening to music with the iPod and feeling so good and accomplished, having completed the illumination. I was looking forward to putting it in a mat and giving it to Bob and Lyle. I’d spent all the day working on it, planning it, sketching and colouring it. Gold ink too. And a spray of fixative on it. I used water-colour paper to back it. Working on it was a joy. But as joy goes… so did this one. – I’d gone down-stairs for a smoke, Bob said it was a night of eat what you can find. I went for the one left-over frank and what I though was mashed potatoes and carrots in a container. It turned out to be shrimp in butter and garlic. But, I ate it because I’d re-heated it. The shrimp were like cardboard, the frank was tough. But, I’d heated it… I ate. Had a couple of cookies after. Daily “meal”. And then I’d headed up to finish the work on the illumination. – Smoke break, out in the back yard with Bob and faggot. All seemed well until we got back into the house and Lyle met us in the kitchen. He wanted us to sit and have a “house meeting”. So, I sat, in the chair in the corner where I usually sit. Bob stood. Lyle sat in his chair. Faggot stood by Bob’s chair and Lyle let it rip…
Seems an old chat with faggot came up at some point and, as usual, got spun round and loaded against me. Third time this has happened. But tonight it just ripped open. Lyle went into a tirade… ON ME! Apparently faggot told Lyle that I’d threatened to turn him in, ‘have him busted’ for smoking weed! The conversation had with faggot was to the effect that I thought it rude for weed smokers to bitch at cigarette smokers when, as I’ve said all along, cigarettes are legal, weed is not… tobacco and weed are both plants that do about the same thing for both smokers… and I’d said that many times I’d been so tempted to turn in weed smokers when they get on my back. (Apparently, according to what Bob added at this “meeting”, I’d said the same thing to him and he was quick to point it out.) Anyway, Lyle held back nothing:
“You owe us a lot of money!”
“Your shit won’t leave this house until it’s paid!”
“You took our car to Portland!”
Bob tried to stop the tirade but I told him to let Lyle finish. And Lyle continued…
Something about threatening to turn him in, have him busted for smoking weed and such things. How much I’m in their debt, how gracious they’ve been to me.
I waited until there was a break and replied, with-out adding to the fire, that what he heard was just another twisted, inappropriate version of a conversation held a while ago, that this was the third time such a thing happened, that I knew that my talks were being twisted round against me. I added that there was no sense in me defending myself because I was the one of the four who doesn’t belong in the group. I’m not from Vermont (to which Lyle jumped right in and said “You’re more of a Vermonter than most Vermonters!” which, once upon a time would have been quite the compliment but tonight, not so at all.). I pointed out that I know that the three of them have a history and that I’m the odd one in the house-hold, the one who doesn’t “belong” and that I’ve known that for quite some time. I reiterated that I would not defend myself because of the fact that I don’t belong in the house and that what had been said about me was already heard and settled.
Faggot stood right where it was, still and silent.
Lyle then turned to it and said that if this is true, then it owed me an apology. I simply said that I wouldn’t accept an apology from “that, even if it was written in blood”. I asked to be excused and was. I went back up to the room to finish matting the illumination. I listened to more music and when the work was done, I took some photos and posted a good one to Facebook, another to my Tumblr and another to my Twitter. Then, I added the shot to my portfolio WordPress. It’s out there. Bob saw the one on Facebook, having no idea what it is. – When it was all done, I put my boots on, intending to go for a walk. I’d like a drink… or several… but I don’t dare! It’s not mine to have here. Anyway, I went down-stairs and gave the finished work to Lyle. Bob asked what it is. I told him. Lyle said it’s “beautiful” and then said “I’m sorry.” about this evening. I told him that I am too but it’s said, done and I’ not in the least surprised by it because this is the third and final time such has happened. I told him that in my humble opinion, “that is a faggot, an old lady, and I don’t deal with that kind of thing. I haven’t spoken or had a conversation since the last time he pulled the same shit.” and I asked “Where do I spend most of my day?” “In the room.” Lyle replied. “Where do I spend most of my night?” “In the room.” “There. As if I have so much time to create trouble where there is none. I keep very busy and out of the way. I eat only when invited. I drink only when invited. I avoid trouble. But the faggot can’t have it that way and makes trouble at all costs.”
The reply was something about how difficult these past few weeks have been for him (Lyle) and how he doesn’t need this. “I have a very heavy right foot and if this shit doesn’t stop, I have no qualms about putting it right in his ass.”
I simply said that things are out in the open now and we all know and understand where we all fit and don’t fit. We then talked about the movie on the television for a bit. When there was a moment, I left, presumably to have a smoke, but I wanted and needed to get the fuck out of this house! It was well past midnight, but at this point, I didn’t and don’t give a shit. I just needed to get out. What I wanted was a stiff drink. But…
And so, I headed out the door and… NORTH! Had this been Richford (OH! To be back in Richford!) I’d be half through Abercorn by now. As long as I walked North on the Morses Line Rd. I was fine. Well, as fine as could be. I walked. The night is foggy. Not as cold as has been. And I thought:
Cleaning the barn this Summer.
Bringing back the garden in the back and painting the sign for it.
Cutting the fire-wood and maintaining the fires on Friday nights when
the rest of them got stone-drunk, had their little mini-orgies and I had to help getting back to the house.
Bringing back the flower beds.
Lyle saying how I’d improved the property “500%” and
how much like “family” the house and we all are.
I thought…
Mowing the lawn.
Bringing in the wood pellets (which don’t help me in this bitter-cold room).
Shovelling the snow.
And I thought…
I want SO much to “go HOME”!
And I thought…
“You owe us a lot of money and you’re shit’s not leaving this house until you pay it!”
“your shit”… that’s all it is to ALL of THEM… “shit”! Just like that’s all it was to Nancy… “shit”. Just like everything I had, everything I have, everything I’ve done, everything I was and am… “shit”. That’s all my entire existence on Earth is and all that I’ve created and contributed… “shit”. Just “shit”.
And I thought…
I want So much to “go HOME”!
It’s Winter. I know where, I know how to get to where. I just have to figure the small logistics… primarily my BDMs. Once THAT’s done… know where and how to get to where. It’s only a matter of when now. I can walk the trip. Leave in the morning and head right along. Once across “the border” I’ll be HOME and from there I can go anywhere I want, at any pace, and I know “where”… JUST AS LONG AS I’M HOME AND NOT HERE!!! And it’s time… it’s Winter… it’s time. They can keep my “shit”. Fuck that. It’s not like there’s so much here, so much left that any of it is important to me any more. Obviously nobody cares to think about that. Nobody cares… that’s the point. So? So keep my “shit” and enjoy it. Keep my “shit” and toss it with the trash. Keep my “shit” and hide it in the barn (in the space that I’ve given back to you). Really? I don’t care any more or less than any of you do. Keep ALL of the “shit”… mine and your own. Keep ALL of the “shit” and keep it away from me.
2.30 and I have the alarm set for 6.00. I was asked to join the 3 of them for dinner at Olive Garden (today). They’re going to meet a “friend” there… the one in the Shelburne Rd. down by the Hannafords where I used to shop. The “friend” is tall, “Bear” and single (as Bob pointed out to me). I declined earlier saying that there will be 4 at table and I’ll be the 5th wheel, the spinster Aunt. Well, now I don’t feel I should be in the house alone so I’m hoping for favourable weather. I’ll get me up, get me together in a manner of sorts, and I’ll take a walk… HOME. That could certainly take the best part of the entire day. I’ve no money to spend when I get there, save the US$. I don’t know that Jo take US$ at the store. But… I don’t much care. I’m not going for the shopping… I’m going to be HOME… and find a bit of peace of spirit… for a while. Hopefully the weather will co-operate, other-wise I don’t know what I’ll do… save, go for the walk anyway. – So all are in bed. The house is still. Faggot has its door closed. The day should prove interesting… to say the very least. But? I don’t care. I want to go HOME!
Sun.29.Dec: 11.43 Over-slept this morning until almost 10.00! It’s foggy again. – I’ve just re-packed things, to get them together, out of the way, reminder that this isn’t “Home” and that I truly don’t actually belong here. That’s OK. I don’t want to be here. And this morning I thought:
Funny: “I’m so dreadfully afraid of being homeless.” says Lyle. But, it’s OK to tell some-one who has been Homeless things that make them FEEL as Homeless as they ever were.
I suppose it’s OK, perfectly acceptable to toss Homelessness at some-body who has been. They don’t care. They’ve been there, know it, lived it. They don’t have the fear or the trepidations. They’ve been Homeless and so, being Homeless again doesn’t matter. So it’s OK to remind them, OK to make them feel Homeless again. It’s OK. They don’t count… don’t matter… can handle it because, after all… Once Homeless, Always Homeless.
I’m still planning on the walk HOME today. It should be interesting. I’m sure to be interrogated thoroughly at the border. Not so much going HOME but (and this is only IF I bother to) the return. Oh well, give them something to earn today’s pay. I need to go HOME today. I need to get the fuck out of here and go HOME. – Packing shows me exactly how little I have left of anything. One toss into a fire-barrel and I’m gone… Gone, Gone, Gone. as the song says. Nothing. Just a whole lot of nothing. Hey! Maybe “they’re” right: Once Homeless, it doesn’t matter… Always Homeless. – 18.01 Bob just came in to invite me to dinner… hot soup! And do I ever need it tonight. I had the most WONDERFUL WALK! Up along the Morses Line Rd., took pictures. I’d left the house at about 13.00 (too late really, to go HOME, but I HAD, HAD, HAD to get the fuck out of the house). John was here so I got the chance to thank him for the “jacket”. Come to learn, it really isn’t a “jacket” but a liner for a jacket that he’d bought for him-self. He says the liner made the jacket too hot so he wouldn’t wear it. Ah… but I was wearing it when I thanked him (and indeed, it came in all too handy under the hooded sweat-shirts, on the walk). Anyway, the walk was rather pleasant. No music, although I did bring it with me. I just enjoyed the silence (or what silence I had between the trucks and cars passing… that road is rather well-travelled). The worst part of the journey was the return to the house. I truly have come to hate Franklin. The people, the place, the town… all of it. Along the walk, (I made it up past the ch. Dandurand) I went really weak from not eating, my eye-sight changed, focused, really, and the world became quite amazing! The photos turned out pretty damned close (I’m ever so proud of them!) to what I was actually seeing. At one point, by the Pidgeon Hill Rd. I HAD to pop off the road to pee! There’s still a great deal of solid ice under the snow and strong enough to hold me up! But what a relief it was to pee! As for the Morses Line Rd. itself, it’s so covered in the sand the town’s thrown on it that it looks like a dirt road now. Of course, that made the walk all the more fun. But truly, it was about the peace, and the fact that Bob, Lyle and the faggot were supposed to go to dinner in BTV this evening and I thought that, if I cold get out of the house, I could escape going along. Well, as it turned out, I came back to the house round about 15.00 or a bit later to find no car! BUT… when I came into the house, the faggot was sitting in the silence, in the living-room. It’s piece of shit yipped at me as I passed the living-room and came directly up to the room. (The room, by the way, is all in order again. I re-packed things and will get to the rest tomorrow, in preparation for the final “boot” out the door… which is only a matter of brief time away, I’m certain.) At first I thought that Bob and Lyle went, faggot bowed-out. Then I felt as if Bob and Lyle went but left faggot here to guard the house, lest I do something terrible… perhaps like move out? (If I had the where-with-all…) I hadn’t but just gotten my boots off when Bob and Lyle pulled up in the car… McDonald’s in hand. Come to learn just now, they decided not to go… but forgot to tell the “friend” they were meeting. HE showed and phoned! So, it goes along… it’s not just me who gets the bump-off. – Anyway, I’ve posted the pictures here ad on FB, a link to the FB “album” on Twtr and some images on Tmblr. I truly am amazed at the way they came out… especially since they were taken with that shit phone! – And so, the room is cold, my hands are cold. Faggot is in its room. When I opened the door to this room earlier, to go down for a smoke, the piece of shit yipped… through the closed door. – So, I wonder where this will all go. The way I see it (allow me to document this on this Sunday, 29 December 2013 at 18.17), it’ll come down to the “history” thing where-as the 3 of them have a history and I haven’t. Faggot has been paying its way with disability and FoodStamps and I’ve been eating my FS and not the house food but still… it will come down to ME being “asked” to leave, depart, go away, GTAFO. So it’s been documented. – I’m nodding here. Hungry. Tired. Exhausted… from lack of sleep, lack of food and just fed-up with this bull-shit! – I’ve taken the small Québec flag down today… to use as a shawl/scarf/bed cover. I want it closer to me now… since I don’t know what will b e happening in the near future. – Time to go down-stairs to ask if I can be of assistance. I can’t get over that Bob came up! I wonder if my having told them: “I don’t eat unless invited. I don’t drink unless invited.” actually got heard and was listened to. Still, I join them only for the sake of décorum. – 20.17 Bob gave me a serving of soup. Small bowl. I had about 5 tablespoons “ham salad”. “Meal”. Intake for the day. I washed the dishes. Peeled some eggs that they’re pickling. Faggot didn’t come to table. I don’t care. I noticed I’ve gone into “Shelter” mode. Shut-down. Don’t care. Tonight I’m actually in pain again… hunger. – The “new” growth on the orange tree is now dark green. Damned thing is growing. – Bob’s cleaning the pellet stove. Lyle’s on the sofa. Watching TV. Bob made a comment on the photos I posted to FB. Lyle made a lovely comment on the illumination. (I’d like to add to it… the more I look at it, the emptier it seems. But they have it now. I can’t care.) – Tired. In pain. Hungry. Tired. – Tomorrow I want to clean the bike, put it back into the barn. Straighten the back-barn, put it in order. – Lyle’s right: my “shit” will not leave this house. But they can’t keep me from leaving. The weather report is for “ice pellets” tomorrow. It’s raining tonight. Temperature to drop to 7°F. Imagine that. I’m re-thinking my trip HOME. No sense waiting for “good weather”. Now to figure how to get to where I’ll go with-out all sorts of difficulties. Enough. This is more than enough. – I need to re-pack things. Maybe move things to the barn. Just to get them out of the way. The plants… the little Christmas cactus from Richford, the ivy, the orange tree. That’s all of my “life” now. They’ll die here. I’ll die at HOME. We’ll die together, become part of the World. I can look forward to that. – The snow is sliding from the roof. The icicles out-side the window are beginning to angle in-ward toward the window. Nothing like the ice-claws of Richford. Nothing here is anything like Richford. I miss Richford. I’ll see about going through town on my way HOME. As I say: much to re-think, re-plan. – Just having a light, hot tap-water coffee, then into bed. I want to be awake early enough to put the computer on in case I get called to the PO. I’d like to get all of that shit out of the way. Why? No reason other than to keep things “normal”, get them done. Nobody will ever be able to say that I didn’t extend myself… of course they can and they will, but let them lie. It’s all been lies anyway. Nobody ever took the time to look and see… me. Fuck’em all. Makes no difference one way or another. – I’m just tired. Looking forward to getting to sleep. Hoping I will… – 21.34 Still awake. Bob got to cleaning and Hoovering. Oh well. So now I’ll pop down for a last smoke. – I put in a request to connect with Lois… Moe and Ev’s daughter, on FB. I wonder how that will pan out. I don’t think I have to be afraid, but with me? One can never be certain. People just love to hate me. (I’ve never heard a word from Silas… but then, he hasn’t, to the best of my knowledge, posted anything on his FB of late. As I say: Who the fuck knows?) JLW has been most kind with her comments and remarks and replies. Perhaps there are nice people to be met on this FB thing. Doesn’t matter much… just trying to make the time left pass nicely. – I’m SO BLOODY HUNGRY! –
Mon.30.Dec: 6.57 An inexplicable sense of “ill” for the day. I don’t know why. It’s just there. Minus8° with chill of minus15and as the day progresses, minus13 with chill of minus23. The winds are blowing this morning, but the day-light is beginning already. The days are getting longer. How jolly. The snow is sliding off the roof. The icicles are lower out-side the window. I’m just in from a smoke. I’ve one left and 15$ left to my name. Friday is pay-day. I have anxieties about that because I’ll receive a cheque and there’s much to cover with this one, particularly 200$ to TD to close the account with them. But the whole ordeal requires a trip into St. Albans to cash the cheque. Then, there’s a 1950$ balance due on rent. And I don’t even dare to accept a lift from the house since it was mentioned that I “owe” because “You took our car to Portland!” as was pointed-out by Lyle during his diatribe about my debts to them. So there are tough days to come. And, of course, this morning, my bowels are churning. That began yesterday on the walk up the Morses Line Rd. I can’t imagine why the bowels would be functioning. There isn’t enough food intake for such a thing. Oh, and the 1950$? That’s with a budget of 50$ per month to pay for the “food” I’ve eaten that isn’t mine to eat. 1,66$ per day isn’t all that much, but, in the first place, there have been many days when I haven’t eaten anything at all, and in the second place, my portions are rather measured… in the tea- and table-spoons. Considering the cost of what’s prepared… I’m not going to give it another thought. When it’s paid in full, then I’ll discuss… of course, that is, unless the topic is thrown in my face before that time. And, I’ve no doubt it will. In fact, part of my trepidations about the day is just that: I’ve no doubt there’s to be a “posse” to come at me at some point. The faggot and the lady of the house. Yes, I know that “legally” I have to be brought through the courts to be tossed. But this isn’t a “legally” sort of region. Indeed, the town has no fondness for the owners of this property. But really? I don’t want to be bothered. Although, I don’t know why I shouldn’t be. After all… it’s already been noticed and spoken on: this place hasn’t looked this good in a long while, and the town knows who’s responsible for the maintenance. But, in the words of “Evita”: “that’s not the point, my friend.” – I woke before 6.00 to power the computer up, connect to Skype, in case there’s a call to go into the PO this morning. It would be nice. I anticipate trouble from there as well. I need to complete those “courses” AT the PO and to-date, Jen isn’t doing much in the way of being very helpful. There isn’t much I can do about it at this juncture. AND… I’m still working out the logistics about getting to the “Window Academy”. From the looks of things now, I’ll be wandering about Essex for a couple of days… with a long walk to and a long walk from. To my way of thinking, it would make better sense to take the coming pay-cheques and put them toward a vehicle. But… I’m not exactly dealing with a “House of Good Sense”. – Honestly? I truly DO hate Gays. There are so few (and none I’ve met) who can actually think properly. Save, Bob. He has his “moments”… but over-all, the “non-Gay” influence in his life tends to lend a better sense of the World. (Which is why I anticipate the “posse” of the ladies coming at me… in his absence.) – I need to bathe. Not because of any noticeable odour just yet, but because I need to bathe. It’s been almost a week now. But… fuck it all anyway. No sense in bothering. – I’m tired this morning… and HUNGRY! And as I sit here, on the bed, under the blankets (and table-cloth), my fingers are becoming cold. Ah… Oh… and at about 6.15 this morning? Faggot’s little piece of shit yipping at Bob. It annoys me until I think: it’s waking Lyle too! So, let it be as it is. I’ll catch-up and get what I need to get the fuck out of here and they can all sit in this house with the yipping and the dog-shit in the carpet. Sometimes Life is miserably un-fair, and sometimes it hammers with what’s deserved. – Day-light… 7.31. – 15.39 It’s been another wasted day of waiting to hear from the PO for the exams that I have to finish. Nothing. I’ve got a strong feeling that there’s an effort at thwarting my completion of these tests. – It’s also been a wasted day as far as writing or much of anything is concerned. It’s been brutally cold in this room, even with the door open. And hunger is becoming increasingly painful. But I don’t dare to go for even one cookie at this juncture… “You owe us a lot of money!” There’s still 2$ oh the FS card and I’m about to break-down and go to the market and get 4 Ramen noodles. I’ve nothing to prepare them in though so it’ll be a lot of eating them dry. Still, it’s something more than nothing. But the hunger not only makes the brain malfunction, it actually hurts through the rest of the body. And the cold doesn’t help matters at all. And it IS cold! Inside this room and out-side the house. The sky is clear, of course, and the air out-side is a snap-cold again. There’s still so much ice on tree limbs and such. And too having nothing more than sneakers with soles worn smooth doesn’t help. – A thought, as I type: Faggot expected (so I’m told) to come to this house for a sexual holiday of constant satisfaction… it didn’t work out that way… because, I’m to understand, Lyle doesn’t “like him that way”. Bob tends to talk more with me, and of course, there’s the issues of going for rides and such. I’m certain that’s causing thoughts in the other-wise bland-and-bored minds of the “Loungers”. Faggot is probably jealous of the attention and Lyle is probably suspicious. This is such a losing situation that there’s no hope for change toward the actuality of any of it. How sad… how terribly, terribly sad. How stereotypically sad. I can’t help but think of how all of my adult life, I never “fit in” with the “culture”, the “society”, my so-called “peers”. “Too butch” or “passing for straight” or what-ever. And to think that I have no tolerance for the rest, even today. I have no level on which to communicate, nor to identify. And I will never understand why the others feel any need or draw toward relinquishing all traces of their masculinity. It’s especially disgusting in the case of faggot, being the proverbial “little old biddie”, always looking to cause conflict just to self-amuse. Again, the only word that comes to mind is.. “sad”. Pitiful, really… worthy of nothing more than pity. Too bad… I’ve none of that left in me either. – Meanwhile, my fingers have been cold all day, so too the rest of me. I sit here, with the hood on my head, a drapeau as a scarf, wearing the same clothes for about a week now (and have even slept in). My feet are cold. And the window beside the “desk” is completely covered in a frost. Winter. But this year, unlike last year, there’s no “romance” in any of it. It’s cold… air, atmosphere, and over-all in general. Just “cold”. I feel like shit, the un-wanted, the “regret” of the house-hold. Oh, and I’m now waiting for the moment when keeping the door of the room open will become an issue to be “tabled” some evening soon. That I’m letting the cold air into the rest of the house… just as I was told that I was letting the cold air into the room and down the hole in the floor. – I want to go back to sleep. That’s actually all I want to do is sleep… to escape the thoughts, the anxieties, the cold. Sleep… to rest… to escape… the pain of hunger… the pain. – 18.04 A cheque arrived in today’s mail. 596,88 for the travel expenses. I wonder, first of all, if I have to re-pay the 341 they already gave me out of this. I have to investigate into that. Secondly, that would make a nice payment on a car right about now. Thirdly, the fucking thing came to the house and Bob brought it up… BROUGHT IT UP to me. I wonder most of all if he looked into the envelope, and if so, did he “share” the information with Lyle. This “home-delivery” is NOT going to work out at all. IF I can get the money together, I’ll take what-ever PO Box I can get for now… here in Franklin (it makes me ill to think about it). But I owe Bob and Lyle and as much as it’s going to hurt, what-ever net I have from this cheque will have to go to them. I need to pay-off TD as well… and that’s about 200 there. With-out that, I’ll never be able to get a chequeing account and that means no access via card to any money… until that debt is paid. Also, this comes at a time when the temperatures are going to fall below zero… Fahrenheit! Walking to St. Albans in this cold is going to be just about impossible… but it has to be done. No two ways about that. That will probably mean that I’ll have to deposit the cheque first. Well then, come Friday and there should be a shitty little cheque for about 4 hours. BFD because I just learned my rate: 12,94. Well, I suppose it’s better than 9,00… not much better, but still not 9,00 and sure not 7,50. So? We make the best. Also, just noticed that the PO thinks I’m a female! I wonder if I should change it or leave it as is… hmmm…. So much to think about, including whether or not I’ll get my time tomorrow to complete some of the shit I need to complete. THAT I will go over there to find out. Anyway, what should be a joyous moment is now nothing more than another reason to lose sleep tonight. What a fuck. How typical. – 19.19 Ad so, I’ve just gone through the PO site to see about changing the incorrect information on one of the forms they sent. Can’t do it on the internet so tomorrow, I have to get me to the PO to see if I can change it on the intranet. Joy. I was going to go anyway. But… I don’t know if this will change my ID number or not. Told Bob about it though. I can’t do anything with the cheque until I find out about all of this. After all, this is the PO and there’s so much that I don’t know (and more that I don’t need to know and then probably more I don’t want to know.) So, again, what should be a time of celebration turns… shitty. – Meanwhile, it’s cold as can be tonight. Lyle’s complaining that the house is cold. Hey! It’s still not as cold as it was last Winter in Nr.19! Still, my hands and feet are cold… and I need a shower… or to bathe at least. Need clean clothes too. But I’m not going to give it any thought tonight. Besides, it seems Lyle’s in a miserable mood all of a sudden. I was invited to dine tonight… left-overs. But I ate ever so much (to my chagrin, because now I’m not hungry but I don’t feel at all well… there’s food in my stomach and my stomach doesn’t know what the hell to do with or about it. My system is all screwed up terribly from the starvation episodes). And, as I type this in, there’s an argument going on in the kitchen, in spite of the good mood at dinner. Honestly? Although it’s not for me to think about, I just can’t stand the constant need for some kind of… “drama”. It makes me happier that I’m not in a “relationship”, makes me dread “relationships” and makes me yearn for an empty place to call “mine”… alone! A.L.O.N.E.! (But, at the rate I’m going, the only way that’s going to happen is when I finally get HOME. And with this bitter cold, that’s not going to be happening with-in the next few days because if it’s too cold, me, walking across the border is going to arouse too much interest… and I have particular plans and such that don’t need to be discussed at border crossings. FUCKED AGAIN!) – I’m actually ready to crawl into bed for the night already. Just too much on the brain…the starved brain… the cold brain. And I’m just waiting for yet another confrontation for some reason. I mean, why they hell not? It’s already been started; why not just compound whilst the shit from the last episode is still warm? Eh? And I know… yes, “know” that there will be more to come. – Well, nothing I can do to stop it. What will happen, will happen. So for tonight I may as well just let the time roll by, let it all happen, what-ever it is that will happen. Tomorrow I’ll be in the PO when it opens. There are “modules” to be done and records to be straightened out. If I can hold this all out for long enough, the cheque for Friday will come as well. Hopefully not to the house! (I’m going to work on getting direct deposit tonight for the next pay-cheque. Then, I can take care of TD later and move on from there.) – 19.48 OK. Net to Banque is done and will be in for the next cheque. – 19.59 Bob just came in to give me a phone for the room… the house phone… in case the PO calls me (and so that it doesn’t disturb Lyle). Says he, Bob… he’s been through the “don’t call before 10.00am” too. As much as I appreciate it, I still think it’s causing trouble. Hopefully, one of these days, I’l be able to talk with him about it. But, for the time being, I’m not plugging that phone in and having it ring in this room… If it does, there’ll be hell to be paid, I’,m certain. Right now? It’s so cold in here that I’m shivering. –
Tue.31.Dec: 12.09 Being the little fucktard that I am, I’ve just bathed Ellie, who’s butt-hole and back were covered in shit. Then, scoured the fucking tub as Lyle sprayed Clorox Clean-up on my shirt-sleeve. But I said nothing. (Just this morning, on Tumblr, someone posted a “meme” that read along the lines of “Imagine being kicked in the face and toothlessly smiling anyway… Now imagine doing that 24 hours of every day.” That’s my life!) – NOTE TO THE FAGGOT: EXCELLENT CATCH ON THE DOG-SHIT IN FRONT OF THE REFRIGERATOR IN THE KITCHEN! YOUR LITTLE PIECE OF SHIT LEFT QUITE THE DUMP THERE AS I CAME IN FROM THE BACK PORCH. YES, I SAW IT. AND YES I NOTICED. NO I DID NOT CLEAN IT UP BECAUSE IT’S YOUR LITTLE PIECE OF SHIT… IN BOTH CASES. AND NOTICE: I’VE NOT SAID ANYTHING TO LYLE ABOUT IT. TAKE A LESSON AND LEARN SOMETHING, YOU WORTHLESS INSITGATOR. – OK. That’s out of the way. – I did go to the PO this morning, to try to get in some of the time on the “modules” that need to be done before the trip to Essex. Jen has conveniently managed to have me go into Enosburg to do them! SO… I’m looking at foot-travel to Enosburg… and being there at 7.30 or so every morning for only about 4 hours each day. How lovely! When I mentioned this to Lyle he simply replied “You tell her that that’s just not convenient.” THERE IS SO MUCH NEGATIVITY SURROUNDING ME! And I’m just too weak, from not eating and such, to deal with it all. Why? I wonder, does “Negativity” seem to blow in on the winds of time and always find ME? Going from “no job” and all the shit caused by Diane (or Dianne or Dyan) Olsen that kept me from getting work for almost 2 years, to getting a job, albeit not the BEST in the world, income-wise, at long last… and then to have all of this negativity thrown in my face. And me, sitting here, with a smile, keeping it to myself. You’re just “too busy being angry”. You fucking qunt! You lying bitch! You judgemental idiot! You and the rest of your ilk. ROT! And I send that as a prayer out into the Cosmos… a plea… a wish… a desire of the inner-most reaches of body and soul… ALL of you! ROT! May it be done in my life-time. – And so, I’m composing a bit of a message to the “superiors” of the postal service, informing them, politely, of the negativity at the office and how it certainly does appear that I’m being discouraged from keeping this job. I’m at the point where I don’t give a shit what the consequences may be. Fuck. I’m tired, hungry, cold and at the end of the rope. And there are 2 little jars and a bottle of pills… I’ve got my ticket out of town and the vehicle to ride. Fuck you all. – Imagine? The eve of a “new year” and this shit… all at once. Imagine. – 23.00 Showered and in bed from since about 21.30. Nothing much I really want to add to this tonight. Just so fed up with all the shit. Just so fed up. Contemplating seeing the old year out and the new year in with a BDM. Just so bloody-fucking fed-the-fuck-up. But I’m clean, my linens aren’t but the bed’s warm and I’m not in the woods or on the streets. So I suppose I should be thankful… but I’m fucking not. I’m just fucking not. – 23.02 Lights out, listening to the radio… from HOME.
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Much to get done right now but I’ll “note”:
