These entries were lost and recovered. Something went wrong with this Journal and I had to try and keep what I could find….
Dec 1, 4:53 PM

2007.1.December

(PostTime: 16.53)

Cyndi Mack
Cynthia Mack
John Yeomans
JohnJoseph Yeomans
Joe Yeomans
Joseph Yeomans
Joseph Daniel Yeomans
Anthony Mack
Tony Mack
Anthony Michael Mack

2007.3.December

(PostTime: 11.43)

Do you know what it’s like
to stand on a street in New York City,
all the people rushing by,
with little space between them…
You are there,
you watch and see and hear…
but you can’t reach out
to touch and feel…
You are there,
but you can’t palpate
reality…
you’re removed
distant
detatached…

13 December – Thursday: Well, it didn’t take them long… IRS is at it again and I’m back into a physical state of complete burn-out.
Let’s recap for this event (Craate and Barrel, Madison Avenue):
25 Nov.Tue: Call fm. Kate
27 Nov.Thu: Interveiew with Spencer
29 Nov.Sat: Orientation
02 Dec.Mon: First real work day
13 Dec.Thu: Call on the 845 cell from IRS (19h29)
They won’t give up. They won’t give me time to get back on my feet. They won’t let me hit zero before coming after me with daggers and bared teeth. They just can’t wait to rip my flesh apart! This is the government of the US. I’m making 9,50 per hour and they WANT! Sorry miserable bastards! They should all rot right here, on this earth, for eternity! Death is entirely too good for them.
Last night I dreamt:
Some troubles at work. Personality conflicts and such. Called into the office. I said:
“How’s it going?”
M. replied:
“I don’t know… Bill… How’s it going?”
Death. The only way to Peace.
Death.

Margot's
1. deadartist Says:
December 20, 2007 at 12:06 pm e
My day begins at 6h30. I rise to make coffee in the kitchen, pee in the sink because I daren’t take the loo for fear she’ll need it and I’ll be THE inconvenience of the day. I’ll hear about it too. I take my little glass jelly jar from the Dollar Store at the Mid-Valley Mall (3 years ago!) and my instant coffee (my treat to me from the little Russian store in Brighton) with the plastic McDonald’s spoon. Hot tap water, gulp, done. Rinse the jar, back to the living-room, roll my balnket, stuff it into the blue canvas bag, straighten the sofa. Ptu on my sweater and flip-flops and out the door to a smoke.
When I return up-stairs, she’s awake and in a most grumpy mood. I’m in the way again this morning. She resents it. I can actually feel it. But I ignore he now. She puts on the TV, volume UP UP UP! THEN she asks me a question and claims she can’t hear my response and that I’m mumbling.
By 9h I try for the shower. It’s still inconvenient because she “needs” the toilet. No matter what time I go, it’s an inconveneince. When I come out she spews “Just in time…” 10h and I’m out the door to the library.
11h20 I’m out of the library and walk to the bus.
1 bus and 2 subways later, it’s 12h28 and I’m at work until…
22h and I’ve been on my feet, on the stairs, hauling for some 9 hours or so. I head to the subway.
2 trains and a bus later, it’s 23h35 and I’m back at the flat. She wants to talk and to do things that she hasn’t bothered with all day. She’s slept though. I can tell. The sofa is wrinkled. She’s slept during the day, I have not.
The hour passes midnight and she’s fking about the place, doing things that she could have done… SHOULD have done during the day but was too busy sleeping.
Finally, 24h30 or later or so, the lights go out. She whines in the next room. The radio is on. I can hear it. I try to sleep. I close my eyes and pray, with all that I am that I fall asleep tonight and don’t wake in the morning. Or, if I do wake in the morning, that tomorrow is my last day.
At 6h or 6h30 the following day… repeat.
Days “off”? Same thing only minus the job.

KalbahJournal - Wordpress

2007.20.December

(PostTime: 12.10)

I rush to get out of work
to get away from the store
to get onto the train
and…
There is no home to go to.
There’s only more work to be done.
There’s fetching for you and listening to you
and listening to you not listening to me.
And I’m exhausted and worn out and run down
and I rush to get out of work
and I rush to get to…
Depression takes hold as I approach the bus-stop.
My mind and body and soul know
there is hell waiting behind those brighlty lit windows
there is no peace
there is no place to go.
And I grow completely exhausted.
I want to sleep.
I cannot sleep.
You won’t let me sleep.
I’m burning out!
I’m praying to burn out.
I’m praying and hoping to die…
soon…
now…
just to
be
dead.

2007.26.December

(PostTime: 12.09)

I walked the beach all Christmas day
I searched for shells and sand to give.
You never made it to the beach
I brought the beach to you
on Christmas day.
No one spoke for all those hours.
No voice
save that of the sea
until…
As I was leaving
a lone woman passed
and in a kind and gentle voice
bade me
“Merry Christmas”.

2007.29.December

(PostTime: 11.49)

Where do people go
when they have no place to go to?
Where do the homeless go
when they say they’re going
“home”?
Where is it that I run to
when I have no place to run to
but many places to run
from
and
do you really care?

(PostTime: 11.51)

In the early morning hour
guitar music
from the room next door.
I hear it in the common hall
as I await the lift
for morning smoke.
He sings.
I am reminded.
I have no guitar
no songs
no lyrics.
I have no music
anymore.
I do not play, nor write, nor sing
I’ve no music in my mind.
I’ve no music in my heart.
I’ve no music in my soul.
It’s all beenripped away.
Why didn’t your just kill me
out-right?
07.29.12 – 7h46

(PostTime: 11.53)

Again
I sit at the farthest corner
of sofa
farthest corner
cramped
away from you
not breathing
farthest corner
silent
away from you
not blinking
farthest corner
in the dark
away from you
avoiding
farthest corner
where you put your feet
away from your
where I rest my head
farthest corner
away from you
cramped and silent
but you bitch anyway.
07.29.12 – 7h54