The next 50 years

oIt's a funny place to find oneself.  Halfway between gratitude and existential anxiety with a dose of moral outrage.   So let me break it down backwards. The outrage is about how my country is failing it's people in their times of need. Ordinary people being let to fall into the streets. If you survive a life threatening ilness with disability, expect to be unable to afford housing on what is available to the public disabled.  I guess the privileged folks all have these fancy insurance packages that pay out a handsome tithe montly to let them live like humans.  How else could this stand? The anxiety.  Well the bus had a few mechanical scares.  We've been visited a few times by officious persons.  One pair of ladies came on as street outreach and for the cost of two cheap school lunches were able to draw way too much information out of me.  I'm kicking myself for it.  Now it's possible they'll get back to me in January with usefulness, a...

       We got kicked out of the parking lot at the social center.  The officer told us we'd had complaints.  We can't idle there and we can't stay overnight.  It's so frustrating.  I feel ever more paranoid and hated by the day.  I feel dehumanized.  I feel hunted.  I hunch over in tension and fear and it's giving me back aches and stomach trouble and poor sleep. The constant high speed traffic on every single street of this insane city doesn't help. Now I"m running out of fuel and money and it's only a third of the way through the month. Dan hasn't had any more interest in his ads.  He's out of funds too, I think.  He did fuel up today but I suspect he's got not much left.  I don't know his details and it's not my business but  I do know he took out a credit card with way more credit than he can afford and it's going to come back and screw him further.  Money mismanagement is honestly the reason we're homel...

 What does holding space mean?  It means giving someone the respectful permission to feel uncomfortable feelings.  Being willing to feel awkward, even sad, so someone else feels heard, felt, cared about. This is incredibly rare, I believe.  I think about all the miserable conversations I've had and how they all fall back on the other person's inability to do this.  Because no part of my life is not touched by some form of sorrow, honestly, it isn't possible to get through a conversation about myself that doesn't get stuck in the weeds.  Or maybe they're doing it by their questions?  Honestly I still don't get how it goes there every damn time. Well it seems it does.  Somehow we're talking about me and what I should be doing. In some context.  I know I don't ask for advice.  I often assert as much to the person asking them to stop doing it. They often refuse to stop. It gets to where I feel on the defensive and delivering way more self in...

 Sitting in a parking lot of a hiking trail after being copped out of the last squatting spot.  I knew we couldn't just stay, Dan didn't agree and so we wound up there again.  It's frankly extremely  challenging to find parking.  You can see there used to be spots everywhere, and they're all blocked off with rocks or concrete barriers or giant locked gates.  The whole atmosphere of hostility here is making me feel defensive and solitudinous. When I go to shops, people just seem miserable.  One place we were at, they were smiling and relaxed and it was like a breath of fresh air. I don't remember if this was normal back east, but it just seems so depressed and self centered here.  Dan says this lot is reserve land, that's interesting.  I would rather deal with a first nations person, but it'll be a cop no matter what, guaranteed. I'm hoping nobody cares enough. What happened at the last spot was overstaying our welcome plus setting out chairs ...

 November 11th 2023 Gotta leave gabriola and can't come back till january.  Don't want to anyway, it's a shitty place for us. We aren't rich enough, old enough or connected enough. It's clear this place is quite hostile.  I really did know it would be, although not how it would be. I am not surprised, though I am saddened to see how it is here.  The hatred is deep and owns the law and the law hounds houseless people around like rats. You need permission from someone to exist?  I don't know.  I just know I can't go anywhere else.  I get so scared, though.  Terrifed of how deep this takes me. Do I wind up homeless on the street here in a year?  Dan still keeps trying to insist he's above the law because he doesn't respect it, and I keep having to outline how that attitude has put us in this situation, how I can't work legit work, travel across the border, own a bank account, and etc. He is responsible for this and can't seem to grok the concept...

 Gabriola island.  We are here.  It's exactly as difficult as it seems it would be and I'm not surprised about it.  But I am distressed and discouraged.  If not here, where can I go?   We arrived last night. The facebook responses were very positive but now I'm thinking it's more of that canadian hypocrisy. They don't want to seem intolerant and self centered. But a lot of canadians are very much so.  They just know the right phrases to pretend otherwise. As with everywhere in Canada, homeless people are not allowed to exist.  We aren't allowed to sleep in a vehicle or on the street or in a park or doorway, we aren't allowed to exist.  But we do.  So we get hassled for it. I haven't been hassled here yet, but neither has anyone given us useable advice on where we can go. Well, the stupid provincial park where I can pay for the privilege of parking in the darkness doing fuck all.  Too many trees. We got chased around nanaimo alr...

 heh, we did it, we came across the water.  I have left north american soil and am on an island in the pacific.  Granted, still politically connected, and on the continental shelf of Canada, but heck, it feels so cool to be off the continent, and for good this time. I will have to go get my car somehow, but damn, I need to get established here.  See, importing this bus to this province is currently not possible. Much more work needs to be done to accomplish it.  That means maintaining nominal residency back there is needed until I accomplish said repairs.  However, there is now time to work on these things, and to find work also.  Dan found an ad for work that looks really attractive, and is putting out an ad.  I've been on the local listings from the mainland and there is a lot of work around for a man who can move.  "have bus, will travel."  I do need to check listings around here but let's see if that island gig happens, if we are abl...

 I want to quit this area.  It wasn't great feeling with all the trash and permanently stuck homeless people but when I realized there is no way in or out except raw freeway?  Well that tears it. I can't go anywhere on a bike, I don't want to be here.  I don't like the feel of this place.  Is it the general attitude of despair or of stubborn resistance?  Is it that with all this enterprise they still can't seem to get away from here?  I dunno.  Maybe it's too many tarps and winter coming.  I follow my instinct and it screams "go anywhere else."  Plenty of nomads don't make the choice to squat in a homeless camp waiting for the inevitable eviction. My wheels turn, my engine runs, we will leave here. 

 Wow, what a wild road it is, that old #1.  I loved it.  I mean, it was absolutely terrifying at times, but that was part of the good. Best part was all the tunnels with their old entrances, second best was the crazy curves overlooking miles of deep valley.  The part I didn't like was climbing hills.  Poor Mackay had to work so hard.  her manifold gaskets arrived, though. But I'm wondering if we should order head gaskets too and prepare for a bigger rebuild.  there is absolute an oil leak off the main engine block where there's a seam I presume to be the head to block joint. Well anyway, we are in the lower mainland now, so that's amazing.  We are down to a scrap of remaining credit and need to earn some dosh to continue.  It looks promising, lots of ads.  The bus's batteries are getting tired of running the diesel heater. The solar batteries are getting far too little charge to even run the laptop now.  I run the bus periodically t...

 You were born a thief.  You stole your mothers womb to grow and broke your way out expecting 20 years of freebies.  Freeloader!   I posted about my travels, saying I was a freeloader for not paying to camp. I camp in parking spots, truck stops, empty land.  But I got all a whole pile on for it calling me a thief. I don't even understand. I'm "as bad as americans."  I'm "what's wrong with this world."   Well I handled it by deleting the post and leaving the group with the harassment/bullying report.  Thing is, it isn't so easily wiped out of my mind.  I didn't double check to see why they thought I was stealing and what they thought I was stealing.  One guy was "if [our fan base person] camps at a campground he always pays" and I never once showed or mentioned campgrounds.  So huh?  It really felt like I was being called a thief for being a freeloader and I've run into that before.  It may even be a majority opin...

I always talked too much because I didn't know how much information I was supposed to give. I didn't get it that everyone  was lying and would rather not have had to ask in the first place.  They certainly didn't want me to answer the questions.  Whether it's "how are you/things," or something else like that, they actually don't want to hear what I have to say. They feel obligated to ask.  I finally understand, I really actually am not being rude ignoring the question if I launch into one of my own at them. So I'm learning to figure out questions to throw back.  "How are you?"  "Hey, good to see you, is your car still acting up?"  Or whatever.  Leading questions if possible.  Turns out they don't want to carry the conversation any more than let me carry it.  Ohhhhhh, they aren't interested in talking at all, they're probing for paranoia sake.  Am I hazardous to their wellbeing?  So I'm learning to be shallow and dish...

 I have no interest in talking to anyone specifically, but really want to talk out my thoughts on the madness in the middle east. It's safe here. I can't get in trouble for having opinions here.  Nobody comments, and you don't know me and those who do, don't know this blog.  (that's what it's all about, eh?) So first up, let me say I've become an antisemite over the last few years and remembering that the average jewish person is absolutely innocent is a constant need.  I got that way from noticing the credits in all the media that has shaped our world.  I already knew the financial world was a favorite occupation for that community, as well as law, but hey, so what? Doctors too, whatever, if your kid can do the work and you can afford the schooling, it makes sense. No, it was realizing how few of the people in big business media at the top levels weren't jewish origin that kind of freaked me out. Ok, so that's the tone I have in my head, and I do no...

 I don't think I've ever experienced true grief before. Wendel comes close, I still get sad.  But Timmy, OMG, it makes me cry still. I found myself starting to substitute the felt doppleganger I made years ago.  I sniffed his blankets and smelled him and have been crying a little since.   Mind you, crying on a rainy day isn't odd for me.  Rain can as easily bring me down as cheer me up depending on how my state is generally.   Speaking of which, let's go. Bike is returning.  That is something I need to keep remembering, I'm getting something back.  It'll be here by tonight I think. The police found it intact and Dan is on the way to bring it here.   Here is Calgary. I arrived last weekend? I forget, actually.  Friday? Thursday?  Well I've been here nearly a week.  I tried driving around the other day and it was terrifyingly stupid. Whole areas are built designed to prevent large long trucks and similar vehicles f...

 First the house, then the dog, then the bike.  I've lost three very dear things. I am not bereft of shelter, dog, nor indeed, a bicycle, but I am less rich, I suppose you would say.  It feels rotten, anyway.  Plus the bike includes the hitch attachments for two trailers and two baskets and I don't know how replaceable these things will be.  I might be able to fabricate them? Well anyway, that's the place my head is at. Plus it's cold. I did pull my head out of the grave, anyway. Baking cookies was a smart thing to do. It really did lift my spirits. I can call that a ladder rung, building a ladder to climb out of the hole. Today sees me on a street parking in a place that is too busy but seems ignored and therefor ok to park. It's just down the street from the first errand of the morning too. My anxiety is peaking hourly because its so damn cold now and I worry about using the heater and killing the coach batteries. I've got Rene in a warmer outfit now, that hel...

 Yeah, I don't care that I don't slide through life in a single mood to make others comfy. It's what it is and the least of my worries. Feeling so damn miserable today.  It's friday. I feel like I lost a day. Yesterday was fine, got lots done, but wasn't feeling good mooded.  I mean, they stole my bike wednesday morning and it's still gone so that is eating at me in all kinds of ways.  It's not just a bike.  It's not just the sentiment.  It's also two trailers, the bike leash post and two basket accessories for which I no longer have the attachments. It's the $60 lock I no longer have.  It's the fact that I can't replace the bike anyway because I am so tight to the wire with money.   Oh and the solar system going kaka and finding out I need something nobody sells locally and getting it mail order is challenging and now Dan is saying he can't figure out the website anyway so I have no electricity when sunday comes and I leave this camp...

 Whew, ok, now I finally appreciate why sometimes I want to spend on a campground.  $225 later and I can relax until Sunday.  I can shower, there's electricity.  We were shopping and they gave us a free butterball turkey.  I thought I was going back to the farm so could share it with them. Then I said, well, Dan can take it back and she can use it.  He checked and she can't, so here it was still in the fridge. Doing a great job pretending to be ice in a cooler. But I did indeed get it plugged in soon enough and now I have the leisure to pull out my big burner and run my pressure canner, my stew pot, etc.  I will use charcoal to roast the meat after deboning it and share with the neighbors here.  That's the best approach. Then boil what Rene doesn't eat and concentrate it then can it with my tiny jars.  Just coming here and parking has reduced my stress level dramatically. I called police about the bike and they actually came round, collected ...

Nevertheless, I can't keep going without complaining and I can't complain to humans. Lemme see. Solar system broken, no power. I need a $700 charge controller which is on sale for 400 but I dare not buy it because my brakes need major money. And I need campround fees because I don't have power and need to stop driving lest my brakes fail without warning. And superstore gave us a free turkey that is going to spoil because I can't process it. Maybe. I am likely to slice it up into jars and pressure can it, actually. If it doesn't spoil first. I need power to run the fridge for that. And the campground isn't answering the phone. And my bike beautiful bike got stolen last night while I slept. They cut the lock! Dan is being typically frustrating. Every time I am on the phone he turns up wanting attention. Ok, well, this was unsatisfying. Dan interrupted me again.

 Hummm, so I got my brakes diagnosed.  Firstly, they have to outsource it so they're working to help me find another shop to do the work. Secondly, it's really rather dangerous and the drive back and forth to the farmhouse might be stupid AF.  I'm camped out at Walmart, not sure how long they tolerate or if I need to shift slightly on the daily.  As long as the brakes stay cool, they won't catch fire.  As long as the line holds, they won't freeze shut. But it's leaking badly enough to cause the beep, the fluid loss, and so on. I forgot about the fluid loss.  Yeah, so one of the wheels has a badly screwed brake cylinder.  It's not something we can't do ourselves, actually, if we have large enough tools.  So if everyone says flat out no, we drive gently back to the farm and figure out how to elevate the one wheel in question. What bugs me most right now is there's two wheels there, where is the brake drum?  I am not unfamiliar with the things a...

I wonder why I feel lonely tonight? Doesn't always bother me, but sometimes I can't put it away at all.   I don't even know what I think I want out of it either. It never does much satisfy anymore. Well, now and then, a little, I suppose. Mostly it seems flat and irrelevant and fraught with social peril. I did get the commissioned wrench wrapper made for the house. Not sure how she likes the orice but the cotton fabric aline is worth $25 so I realky am only getting $25 for my time of four hours. This includes the generstor fuel and two broken sewing machine needles plus half a spool of thread. Soooo,I might be breaking even or making a bit, but it is a cheap price and I am not making another unless someone else supplies the fabric, except maybe for myself. I don't think she liked the price. Saskatchewan peeps are cheeps.

 Yeah, I know, it's racist. That's why it's here.  I just hope it's not considered insulting, and gets a pass for being interesting.  I was thinking about the Asian type face.  Epicanthic folds, round cheeks, small features. It's very similar to babies, very cute.  We see the full cheeks in all the races, they appeal, I presume, to people who like babies.  People who love babies. They're geared to respond to that feature set.  So, why would a whole chunk of the planet fill with that dominant feature? Why not the whole planet?  I thought about how humans migrated from Africa, and that meant across the Himalayans, the high cold deserts, all those terrible places.  To get through those terrible places, a population would take a very long time, and only those who took the best care of their children would make it into the future. Because harsh conditions test children so very much.  So they are people who love children.  No, I am not ta...

 When I am happy, I feel paranoid.  I feel like I don't want to be witnessed being happy.  This is an odd sensation which took some time to perceive and yet longer to believe.  See, I get it, I was trained not to be seen happy.  Not obviously trained, but subtly. If I was witnessed in a good mood, my mother, my siblings, school bullies or Dan, yes he too participated, would immediately act to bring me down. like I'm not allowed to be happy. So I learned subconsciously to keep it to myself. Which means that around others I am not myself, I am a misery person because I was trained to show only that side, to focus on it in conversation, to present myself as already so pathetic I'm not worth hassling. Damn that's sad. And outrageous. I do want to change it but I don't know how. I mean, sure, I can tell myself to aggressively be cheerful but I already DO, and it does nothing. Yeah, dead end.  No idea how to address this one.

 We arrived at the rural jobsite on the edge of a tiny village and the night sky is unimpeded like I haven't seen it since last century. I missed the stars so badly.  It's hard not to try and sleep out under them. My neck hurts from craning up. The whole of Draco, my name for our galaxy, is displayed above, misty cloudy bits and all. In fact, I read somewhere recently that this part of the continent is sparsely enough populated to qualify as a dark sky preserve.  Whew, it sure is!  As a child I almost took it for granted, but of course, one cannot stop being awed by the night sky, regardless how often it is there.  It's better than TV.  Just lay there looking up and your brain never stops having interest in it.  Wipes away worries and cares of the day and just leaves me inspired.  It was a very short time ago that I wished to see them soon, expecting to wait until we boondock in the mountains. Here it is, though. Wow. I really should get out my ca...

 I waited an extra effing month because of Dan, primarily, although the death of Timmy played no small part. So I gave him a deadline.  So he decided to blow it.  So I'm on the road without him.  I'm only about 2.5 hours down the road, so he can easily catch up. I fetched up in a terribly desolate mud lot. dust, debris, barbed wire and scrub weeds behind that with a pile of dirt like a pimple in one spot. the wind is blowing like it's out in Saskatchewan and has zero obstacles to slow it's journey across the land.  Luckily it's not blowing in from the waste water plant just over the way here. My bus was overheating on the way here but it was being asked to try and haul everything up hills at 90km/h and once I settled for 79, we found a nice niche and I even used the throttle locker to put her on a steady throttle so I could bounce my feet. As to music, I still have not found a good solution.  All my speakers are dead or dying, really, same with my mp3 playe...

 I drove the bus down to see a mechanic.  Dan said he's really matured, wizened, stopped drinking two decades ago and really got a few clues. Figures I'd hear that from Dan who is three clues short of an idea at best.  Sure enough, Gaynold is not better, he's as nasty as ever, just sober, and with a passel full of phrases to virtue signal like a pro.  It wasn't long before I was exhausted trying to just get a conversation finished about fixing my exhaust manifold. Dude can do it, yeah, but he won't and frankly I don't want him to, not even for free.  I can see it now, my bus barely stuffed in his yard, him bitching about the trouble. Bitching at me about being everything he ever hated in life.  Spending far more time trying to get my head "straight" instead of getting the work done.  All the while I'm trying to be kind to him, he's just lost his long suffering wife of 40 years.  God, that poor woman, no wonder she died young, but WHY did she st...