Wow! I forgot about this, what, looking here for the first time in over three years,
reading it all. I like my line about tormenting the too-taught mind.
What has happened to me since then, are crimes against humanity.
I know I'm not capable of typing like this now, getting back to being fully functional.
And I did mail a money order for over three times the purchase price,
for Like a Flame, saying it's in appreciation for me time spent inside this domain.
But now, it's now seen to be an act of theft by a post office employee,
that kept my money order from leaving my home town.
Justice is nice, but moving on with my music is the most important for me.
Staying indoors too much, I started painting with Dollarama acrylics,
and sold the first two paintings to employees in the businesses on the ground floor,
before I was able to show them around town.
When I was showing a few around town, other people was taking photos.
I got a call from Rodman Hall in St. Catharines, a very old and very prestigious art gallery,
saying I could show in a community event in two weeks.
A man came to see me, talking about being an artist in residence.
I met the only artist in residence they ever had, in the late sixties,
when I would visit St. Catharines to go there and look at the art,
and play the full scale Steinway grand piano that sits along a wall.
And then I took a few more drug-overdosing hits.
A woman even put nail polish in a salad I was eating downtown,
burning my mouth. If I was singing as a gig I would have had to quit.
I'm saying nail polish, because it tasted like that, having a little of that before.
Now, I'm over 65, not that another year and a half is too much out of my life,
but being over 65 sounds too much like retirement age, what used to be legal,
having to quit your job unless you owned it.
But that's okay.
I've been walking around with my acoustic and hitting some karaoke stages,
and creating those kind of reactions and enervating others is still working for me.
But this is Welland.
Sitting outside downtown one calm and warm night, at a major intersection,
watching the cars go by after midnight,
a woman came over to sit beside me. She is someone I've seen around.
She put her arm around my shoulders, putting her head on my shoulder,
and told me about her boyfriend-pimp, and how she changed his medication,
just to teach him a lesson, but he went into convulsions and died.
This seemed like too wasted talk to me,
until I went to a social services agency and heard this man was dead.
When I saw her again that day, she wanted to talk to me about it,
just not in front of anyone else.
When I was playing up north, sitting outside after a bar gig,
a man who just killed his best friend felt compelled to tell me,
and he exhibited the same kind of strange physical behavior that creates,
for some people.
Staff and other clients were seeing this and saying that to me.
I called the police to unburden my too heavied heart, and they had an autopsy.
It's been over a week, and maybe today I'll visit and see what happened.
Does that sound like a musical life? No, it's not.
Welland is a deep, dark, criminal hole. It's time to pull the plug.
As only I can do.
Thank you again, Magle.dk, for being my only musical release,
during these very difficult times. I just kept walking and talking.
