My return, is now complete.
my story home. or to the road home.
I had moved to a cheaper end of town where I lived with my best friends. togeather we did loads of acid. There I forced my self to study some bits of every thing. I was working at a seady little place on johnson st. I hated every minute of it. I'm to off most of the time to like kitchen work. Its long and petty doesnt pay any thing. Makes people alcholics and wastes all my energy. I was constantly quiting work to go off on random drug releated excursions with my friends and equipment. I never leave my laptop, or a sketch books out of a drug experiance. Though I let go a lot wile doing drugs, Its kind of hard to come down at times. I eventualy made some far off plains with people from out of town with mutual intrests. I exiesed my funds and reason to make it work. Insparation the discovery of where we were going. What did that back door entrance look like from there vew. Are any of these animals like my self trying to be to some use. is this all just a wonderfull and obvouis blur of my youth, drugs, girls and highrise. eventualy when i came home I was also crashing. that day I woke up like this.
only 45 minutes of reconstructive surgery and 4 days on morphine. I got out because I was locked out late one night knowing my friends only live a few blocks away my medicated self wondered all the way from royal roads to esquimalt in a hospital gown. I climbed a 5 story apartment building in flip flops then called the hospital to say I was ready to collect my things. I made 6 trays of pot brownies 2 dozen muffins. and filled up my bags. I took off to the gulf Islands and did acid till I was ready to deal with putting my act back together. but not much was going to get better. I came home too medicated and gross looking to get a job right away so i had to move in with some family that was still living out west.
My sister... she had just given birth to her second kid and after a week with her I had found a good job and was sick of her paranoid freak outs on me venting her deep headed hatred for her husband. A military failure, a misfeature to his parents and the contested father of a illegitimate black baby boy, who's background I have no interest in. I just wanted to get out of there gated clockwork life on the base. I told my sister after having an argument I was going out for a walk to calm down. that she was continuing to step over the line, an I was just trying to get some sleep for work tomorrow. any way the next morning I decided to pack up and leave. at the door she grabbed my bags and tossed them back in the house screaming and having a fit. in front of her two children she screamed at the passivist black sheep of her tattered family the only family that was hesitant to alienate her after several instances in Quebec years ago that I never considered judging her on. so after picking my things up she started wailing at me I hit back. she jumped on me and continued to hit some one who just had there head put back together. From that I called the cops. the mps showed up and because of a crossed wire in the dumb things ear the arresting officer was under the impression that I was a drug rehab patient... some thing I miss here I get attacked trying to leave a copulate up home. I'm already recovering from some thing messed up enough I can barley work and some dumb honky hick girl attacks me. I show restraint to a point. I'm being charged with assault. she did eventual come to her senses and dropped the charges though the word is out if shes going to actually say she was wrong... dear god, over money, money she could have gotten if she had behaved like a human being and treated me like one. over 100 dollars, I had moved out of my house in ESQ and moved there, next was couch surfing wile I practiced a job as a skilled printmaker. I was just winging every day, but I got to make my own assembly areas and program CNC cutters. worked with imaging experts and instructors. it was pretty hard to do wile homeless. eventually i went back to the kitchen. found a place. learned how hard its going to be in Victoria and to go to school. I think when that hole mess is over London Ontario, Ottawa or any thing between. education is the answer. cant do messed up fun stuff with out knowing more about the outcome. or at least a bigger scope first.
where ever the hell home is. I'll get there soon.
