With the legalization of Marijuana in its current state, Canada has opened the gate-way to becoming one of the world’s leading contributor of single-use plastic pollution.
“Cause you’re the joke of the neighborhood…Why should you care if you’re feeling good…Take the long way home,” SUPERTRAMP. (1ST concert Mother went to in the summer of 1979, Lansdowne Park, Ottawa.)
I feel sort of sorry for some People. Continue reading “A Dog’s Eye View – Take the Long Way Home!”
Note: I started to write this story immediately after having a vivid dream in 2012, scribbling words down upon awakening on that Friday, April 13th, typing it up a few months later when someone gave me the laptop that I still use to this day. It has been edited and viewed by myself on numerous occasions over the years and is now four pages in final embellished state. As are the recollections of one’s dreams, the memories are not perfectly clear, hence the abundance of fragmented sentences within. This was back when I first moved into a Toronto Housing unit from the homeless shelter. With nothing of personal or monetary value left, aside from my dog Keeba, it wasn’t what you would call a home for me then, as it is now. It was a barren, lonely, and scary space which I quickly filled with anger, grief, and guilt. As always, the demons that had haunted my soul for decades, consuming my thoughts and controlling my movements, they rushed inside too, (joining the others already residing with-in the building). Little did I know it, suffering as I had been, this was the brink of the beginning of a long passage to wrench free from tightly grasping hands and negative energy. Slowly, one crooked grisly finger at a time.
I am lying in a comfortable double bed; obviously not mine since I sleep on a mattress on the floor in my current dwelling. Someone is curled up beside me. Our bodies do not touch, but I immediately sense a naked backside and catch a glimpse of pale pudgy skin and well-worn boxer shorts. Not a lover. Perhaps a friend? I myself might be naked, not sure, but I am carpeted and warm in a white duvet and there is a soft pillow under my head. Laid still, with dawns light breezing through an open window and fluttering sheer curtains, I survey the environment. Continue reading “THE DREAM”