Friday, 21 February 2014:
It's been a while since my last entry into this journal. Things... “life” has taken a turn for the more “busy” side and much writing has been put aside, I'm sorry to say. But that doesn't mean that all things have come to a pause and writing will recommence in short order.

Meanwhile, something of interest has been brought to my attention with regard to the work “Bitter-sweet Bitterness” and I'd like to comment on the discovery.

It would appear that certain members of what would be considered my “family”, and only because of a commonality of parents and nothing more, are under the impression that my publishing endeavours have resulted in some sort of financial boon for me and, as it would be had I won the lottery, the sloths are plotting and scheming on what they think to be easy money. Yes, they are mentioned in the book, and only in factual references. And those references are not exactly pretty, fanciful nor are they favourable. But they are, indeed, facts, nothing more nor less. However, this doesn't seem to deter the functionally illiterate from perusing what they envision to be the garnering of yet another easy dollar.

Only just very recently was I informed that there was a posting made to a public forum or bulletin board that I had opened many years ago where-upon the politics of a small New York State town could openly express personal opinion on matters ranging from local politics to general news without fear of retribution or censorship. The posting in reference was a call for others to buy and read my book and to do so in the hopes of opening litigation against me for ... “slander”. Well, well, well. First of all, I would be remiss if I did not address the misuse of the term “slander” which is a verbal means of expressing and disseminating negative and/or false information about another person. Had the poster of this message known better, the term “libel” would have been used. But that's mere semantics and an absence of intelligence of which I have been aware for many, many years now.

To address the issue merely at face value, it behoves me to reply, openly, to the poster, here and now and to say that it's obvious that the guilt the poster is experiencing is caused by the incontrovertible issue: that which I've included in the book is nothing more than truth and fact... and nothing less. You, the poster, are guilty, beyond even a shadow of a doubt and are now angry that someone has not only confronted you, but has made your transgressions a public matter.

I could be-labour the point, the matter, the issue. But quite honestly, it's not worth the time, the effort, the typing nor the space on this server.

I will merely say, here, publicly; If you truly are prepared to take your psychoses to the halls of justice, and present yourself/selves in front of a jury and appointed judge, then simply have at it and have done with it. I more than welcome the opportunity to air your personal filthy laundry in the eyes of a vast and general public, divulge even more of the sordid details of failed marriages, children, forgeries, abandonment, and the likes. I am fully prepared to prove the statements of my publication and assure you that I will, in the final out-come, be quite exonerated and will respond to your actions in kind... in a court of law... against you. And I have been assured, since I have already taken the liberties of discussing this matter with several competent attorneys, you will not only fail in your attempts to “slander” me, but you will pay, for a very long time, for your own transgressions and accusations.

You have ridden the tail-winds of a great many in your past, and it is quite well known. It will become better known, should you wish to make it so. And I am more than happily prepared to ensure that the sordidness of your own past becomes even more wide-spread, should this be your wish.

See you at the bench, in the court-room, in front of judge and jury... at my convenience, you may rest well assured. Meanwhile, I have my notes prepared. So, to put it in the vernacular: Let's rock'n'roll!

Friday, 21 February 2014:
How strange, I sometimes think, that the experience of Homelessness, even after so many years, is still so deeply ingrained in my mind that, even as I lay in a bed, with the warmth of a heated mattress pad, under several blankets, snow falling out-side the window... the pain is still as fresh today as it was the very day I walked out of that Homeless Shelter with a dream of returning to a "normal" existence. Tonight (at about 10:00pm), I composed what I hope will become yet another book, and if it does, and it is published, another book that I hope others will give a crap about and read, and pay attention to and learn to be true "Humans"... with all the care and compassion that term encompasses. It would be a delight to allow myself the luxury of entertaining the possibility, and the possibility that Homelessness will be obliterated in my life-time. But I might be ever so silly at times, however, I have, to the very best of my knowledge, been "stupid". The new material of tonight can be read by clicking here...



It is one thing to not be cared-about and lied to. It is quite another to face the reality, directly, and acknowledge the fact that one is not cared-about. Never mind not being cared FOR, but to not be cared ABOUT?

I often wonder if people in general, others, as they are, realise the impact on the soul, when some-one stands at the entrance to a Homeless Shelter. And, as often, I wonder if any of those people actually care at all.

Having stood at the entrance to a Homeless Shelter, in the dark, after having spent many months sleeping under the stars at night, sitting alone on beaches by day, talking with and to no-one, I know, all too well, the pain of suddenly being forced to acknowledge the “alone-ness” that becomes the prevalent reality of one's existence. And, after passing those months, rarely speaking with anyone at all, and listening to people spewing statements such as “How terrible it must be for you...” and “I don't know how you do it; I certainly couldn't...” and all the while knowing that they all knew that the only real “need” I had at that time was a little space, shelter against the elements of Nature, to suddenly wake from the surrealism of days and nights alone, save brief interludes with people who feigned compassion but only to the extent of their spoken words, I know, ever so well, the sound of the “crack” when the reality of your personal worthlessness comes crashing into the brain and slams against the human heart.

When a person is driven, only by the innate survival instinct, to seek the help and even pseudo-caring of complete strangers, the most basic of shelter against wind, rain, snow, cold, heat of the sun in a public place called a “Shelter” it is a moment in time when the most base notions of sanity and reality strike like fine-honed knives, and they pierce the mind, the body and the soul, directly and deeply to the core.

For all too many in Shelters for the Homeless, and those who will not or cannot avail themselves of the “luxury” of the Shelters, there are, on this planet we call “Earth”, those who have been called and those who call themselves “friends”. For ALL who are in Shelters AND those who exist out in the elements un-sheltered, there are, some-where on this planet, on this “Earth” in this “world”, those who are known as “family” by blood. Yet, at the moment a person, a human-being stands at the door, the entrance to a Homeless Shelter... there is... absolutely... NO one... no one at all... not even one solitary soul who is either “friend” or “family”. There is one person, one single, solitary, living, breathing person at that moment, and at that moment, he and she are absolutely “alone”. There is nothing and no one around him and her. He and she can cry, laugh, sigh, breathe, and no one else sees or hears. A heart beats in the chest of that Homeless person, and no one hears the heart-beat, no one senses the heart-beat and truly, incontrovertibly, not one other person cares, even in the least, to try.

That reality, that emptiness, that moment of absolute, total and complete solitude thrusts itself deeper than any weapon known to all of human-kind. It is sharp, serrated, rips at spirit, soul, and even mind and flesh. It twists, causing searing pain. And the wound it causes never heals, it leaves no scar, it remains open... forever. And the mark it causes is indelible. Over time, the “Homelessness” may become some part of a recent or even distant past. But the wound opened by the emptiness and the reality that not one other living being in a world as vast as that in which a Homeless person exists, cared, at that moment when human compassion became tantamount to ALL other needs, will never, ever heal.

One tends, over time, to with-draw deeper into one's self during Homelessness. The bitter reality of not being cared about becomes a shroud, a protective safeguard against further infliction of any more pain. And for those who are fortunate enough to find the companionship of other Homeless, the identity with and camaraderie of those of like spirit creates a society split and very distant from all other societies that people, humans create.

Those who survive, against many odds, a term of Homelessness of any length, never return to the “person” they once were, nurtured in a “home life”, perhaps by parents or loved ones. In that one, almost negligible moment in time, in the course of one's life-time, the term of companionship of “friends' and “family” is negated, obliterated and the results are, for all intent and purpose, permanent... until death. The memory of that lonely, empty, frightening moment embeds deep into the mind, the psyche, the very cellular structure of an individual, and there, it replicates infinitely... until, as in death itself, all “life” ceases, even to the “end” of the very matter of which the organic brain is composed.

For those who have never experienced true “Homelessness”, these points, these facts are nothing more than mere abstracts. The salve for those who have never experienced “Homelessness” is to dismiss the Homeless as being mentally ill, drug-induced insane, abnormal, or simply “faulty” or irresponsible. Those who have never actually experienced the loneliness, the bitter, dark emptiness of facing their “un-wantedness” can try and will succeed in finding rationalizations to protect themselves against experiencing the brutality of the pain caused by being Homeless... even IF they make the simple effort of trying to ponder it.

It is all too simple to dismiss the Homeless as being sub-par, deranged in some manner... something (not some ONE) to be dismissed. And, as it is often done, when one leaves “Homelessness” and experiences future hardships, to make patronising and condescending callous statements such as “Oh, you've been through worse.” and again, abandon the person, the human-being standing there, often silently searching for a hand to grasp, and all the while remembering: NO one cared then... NO one cares now... and believing with all reality in the human soul... NO one WILL care... ever.

And I wonder, I often wonder if people in general, others, as they are, realise how brutally un-caring and selfish they are, daily, even from moment to moment in their entire existence because, one very basic, very plain and simple fact exists, and that is: if anyone did care... no one would be in a Homeless Shelter... no one would be Homeless. (21 Feb. 2014... 21.57)



Wednesday, 12 February 2014:
The weather in the North Country has been brutally cold this Winter which is good in many respects and yet, almost painful in other. For one thing, "they" (those people to whom we generally refer with-out any particular object, person or group in mind) say that the cold is killing-off all sorts of viruses and nasty insects that have plagued the region in past years. This is a "good" point. As for the "bad"... it chills the house right through the bricks and mortar and so too, the fingers. A touch of hypothermia just insists upon returning to the blankets (any-where between 3 and 5 layers) for a "warm-up"... but that usually leads to extended naps and, well, un-productive days.

BUT... the really "good" news is that this Winter cold has kept one author quite busy and today, the next book is well under weigh. No specific dead-line set, not the one that was originally expected to become the "next book". But this one is rather interesting in so far as insight and a bit of "sharing" (a term I've grown to despise because of it's general abuse and misuse) of the life and times of an author. If you're curious at all, I invite you to get in touch ( that's what the contact page is for ) and I'll be happy to "divulge" what I can.

Meanwhile, it's back to the job at hand here and another attempt at dodging the urge to hide under the blankets until July. (Rumour has it that, since the State has recorded weather, there is only ONE month that has NEVER had snow... August!)

Thank you for coming by to check-up on me. And DO, I encourage you, drop a note or a line. (Somebody who means the absolute WORLD to be recently did... That story is material not only for a book but a screen-play as well!!! * Hi Lorts! * )