Void Where Prohibited by Morality

A NorEaster is coming on Sunday.

What kind of shit is that. One day after Christmas and it turns into a white nightmare. 11-16 inches by tomorrow night. Shit, that's higher than my dick is long. You ladies don't have such a barometer. If snow is higher than my dick is long, then there's too much snow, and baby, it's always too much snow out. Now what am I going to do if I get snowed in tomorrow. What do I have to do tomorrow? Hmmm, nothing. Nothing at all. I can sit in my home and look out the window and watch the white stuff fall.



Oh wait! I have no real food in the house. I have to get the fuck out and head up to the Associated Food Store up the block that's open twenty four hours. You gotta love this shit in New York City. I went food shopping the other night at 2:00am and NOBODY was outside, in the hallways, or even taking skeksy rides up and down the elevator. It was absolute fun! Tonight I did the same and in this huge, huge grocery store, there was only about five people that I saw, and then only briefly.



I don't know why, but I would love to live in a world that all life had gone. I don't know where. Maybe picked up by aliens or died out by some plague. I would just like the entire world for myself. Like Wil Smith in I Am Legend. I would like to roam the barren city of New York, not running into anyone. Have everything, and I don't mean material possessions. I can live without those. When I say everything, I mean air and space all to myself. I'd love to not see another soul...well that's kind of a lie.



I do love my friends. I would exclude them from being picked up by aliens. And one person. One woman. She can spend every waking day of my life with me and I'd not miss the world. She is the world, and sometimes even Hobo's miss that point. No man is an island, no matter how hard he may try. I think that I can really try, but I'm sometimes glad that I would not succeed.



You have to admit, such thinking is tantamount to suicide. Who really wants to be alone for the rest of their life? Why do I want to withdraw with greater and greater intensity. Do I feel that humankind has done me wrong too often? Maybe. Do I distrust humankind? Maybe. Is that why I like writing, poetry, music? Maybe. Have I been writing poetry? Sometimes. Do I want to get back into the poetry circuit? Not necessarily now, but eventually. I want a body of work before I return to people again, and my return to people will be once again through the poetry circuit.



My problem is that before, I was sort of pressed into service by OBSIDIAN. I wanted to do the SHOUT OUT again just as much as he did, but after awhile my old personality tics and tacs began to re-emerge, and slowly I developed the desire to flee. It's what I do. Anything that places me in front of people I am wary of. I'm not the spotlight kind of guy, and I hate to say how relieved I was that OBSIDIAN did end the OUT. Not that I didn't love it, I just couldn't integrate myself with it. Because of my normal, reserved personality was in torment every Saturday, to ease the screaming in my head, I started to resort to the bottle more and more to cope.



This is similar to my returning night after night to a job at Ground Zero, drinking my fool ass off every night that I should have been working. OBSIDIAN will tell you, I spent more hours at the topless bar every night watching free roaming tits run amok than holding a tool and building computer networks. I guess you can say that the tool I was working with was hard, but not THAT hard.  However, I have to say, it is all because of the need to be away from things that cause me distress that I drink so much. When I'm locked away in my own little world, I don't need alcohol, and so I don't resort to it at all. I have a cool down period, and then once I feel safe again, I stop.



I don't feel safe around people. I don't feel safe in crowds. I don't feel safe unless I feel safe with you. There are those, and you know who you are, that can say that I've confessed to feeling safe around them, and that with them, I can do a lot of things that I wouldn't without. But I'm not one to go hop skipping and jumping with them willy nilly in any event. If I do, I'm drinking like a fish. Sorry, but that's the way love goes.



I was asked what I did for Christmas and who did I do it with. Ha ha ha! I did crossword puzzles with my Alters. Yeah, I sat around and me and my alter-egos worked on crossword puzzles. Then we wrote a seminal piece of work. My memoirs. My life story from 9/11 to now...or maybe the foreseeable future, depending on the outcome of one relationship. Stop wracking your brains, you will never figure out who, what, or where. You may think you know the Hobo, but until you realize that the Hobo is different than most mentally unstable people that you may meet, you'll never understand what the fuck is going on.



You'll never understand the purpose of this fucking blog, the reason why it existed for so long. The reasons why I started it. The reason why it didn't stop when I got this SRO and people began mis-naming me SRO-bob, as if I'm Toolboy-bob, Slappy-bob, Afro-bob, or Welfare-bob. A hobo is not a location, or thing. It's a moniker that I have accepted. I have not accepted Tool-boy or Slappy. I am not an SRO. These are things that those that don't really like me have given me as punishment. Such as the SRO moniker that is picked up by so many as funny. It wasn't created to be funny. It was created to be spiteful, and then propagated to show despite. But that's alright. I know the majority of you think you're being funny, so it doesn't bother me, but to you, and you know who you are, the hobo knows more than you think.



Ahhh, it felt good getting that off my hobo chest. But it's people like that who make me very distrustful of individuals. I do not place myself in position to be done in or hurt by those who smile in my face and then, as the O-jays song goes: "They smile in your face, all the time they want to take your place. The backstabbers, the backstabbers." So all you faithful readers, watch out for those that treat you that way. They are what they are, and they never change. It's a slow acting poison, like a cancer, that slowly consumes them until they act. And it's never to your benefit. Those are the breaks.



But I've separated myself from the majority of you, not because I distrust YOU, I have social anxiety - Slash - Dot - Bam, so I distrust the WORLD. It's just the way I'm built. Just because you haven't put in the time to get to know the hobo, doesn't mean that I take you as a bad individual, or do not like you. No, on the contrary, your slate is clear to me. But I'll still avoid dealings with you, especially if it involves large groups of people. I just like the peacefulness of being alone...with just one person.



Well, that's the deal. So now that it's going to snow like a bitch in heat tomorrow, myself and my alters will get together and either do more crosswords, or write my memoirs, or blog. One or the other. And I'll sit in perfect solitude and answer emails from friends and relatives and just be the all around hobo, in the world that I have constructed for the time being. I like it here, and I like being me. I am happy boys and girls, but don't count me out. I've finished another book of photos and Haiku that I have put up on my blog site. I took it down to work on it a bit more, however it'll go back up again once it's available. It's a coffee table book, hardcover and full color glossy photos of my life in the streets as a homeless person. All photos are mine, which you might find surprising, along with Haiku and my own designed and created poetry form called the Paraxi. If anyone would like to know the rules behind writing one, let me know.

So now, it's time for me to call it quits, and get to work on other things. I'm doing a great deal of study now on book proposal construction, Query letter creation, Synopses and treatments for movies and television. It's an interesting body of study on a subject that I've been interested in all my life. Now it's time to harness this curiosity and make something of it. So all play and no work makes the hobo a dull boy.


Besides my AADD is starting to kick in.



You take care and stay out of the snow if you can....
and if you can't, please stay warm.

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