If It's Gonna Be...

I finished that library book, today, without skipping to the last page.
I can start on the second one. It's called "The Dime Box."
By a Canadian author. I thought I'd give it a try.

The one I just finished reading is called "The Lucky Caller."
It's about some teens who have a radio broadcasting class.
There was a love story in it. 

There were times I hated reading romance stuff.
It kinda got me depressed.

Anyway, was a nice story.

The next one is supposedly a thriller, so we'll see.

Still writing every night, and trying to get it pulled together...
It's taking me a lot longer than I want it to, 
but I think it'll feel satisfying when I get it tied together.
All the links, all the pages and posts, everything.

And sometimes things get so damn slow that I may as well be
going backward... That's frustrating. 

I can go back to the library soon, maybe tomorrow,
to bring the book back.

I don't have to pick up another one, I've got the next one.
Maybe after that one, or I'll just read my own.

Why is it easier to read books from the library?
Than books I already have?

There's a book series that supposedly has a box case or something
and came wth some guide thing...

But when I got the set, didn't have that with it.
Someone just left them in the laundry room
with a sign that said free.

I took them with the thought of trying to sell them.

I'm thinking about bringing the set to that "book place"
that has that cafe in it. I'll ask for a suggestion from the dude
if he doesn't want to buy them.

I took them to a few places and I don't know why they wouldn't.
They aren't damaged at all, look like "new."

That's something I was thinking of doing. 
And I'm thinking about talking to the vintage guys from that shop.

The jackets I have that I want to try to sell might not be "vintage"
but if they can sell them, that'd be cool. 

Then we could figure something out for future transactions.

That way, I can make a buck here and there.
It all adds up.

What I'd like to do is sell some of my stuff.
Well, I'd say more than 80% of the things I have
I don't actually need. 

And I could be happier knowing that I don't have to move 
EVERYTHING to another location, 
because that day will likely come, 
and probably sooner than I think.

It will take some getting used to, living somewhere else.
Can you believe I've lived in one location
for half of my life?

It's like when my grandparents lived
in the same house for over 50 years...

And that house, was my very first home.
I lived there, as a baby.

Up to when I was a teenager...

My Grandmother moved from there before 2003.
And before 2002. 

My grandfather passed away a few days before Christmas, that year.
In 1998. I was 14. 
That was really rough. 
We had his funeral on BOXING DAY.

Hard to enjoy Christmas with a funeral the next day...
My Grandfather made Christmas feel special.
Christmas just hasn't been the same.

And the other memories I have, 
I wish I could keep, but stuff happened
that changed that, too.


Anyway, that was leading up to my Grandmother
moving from that house she had lived in
with my Grandfather for 50 years.

Living in ONE place, for 50 years.
I loved that house...

I used to have a secret place, behind the chair
in the "sitting room."

Nobody would think to look for me there,
and I could just quietly be there.

And my Grandfather had a collection of Zane Grey books.
Those were like westerns, but they were pretty well written.

I read a few of those. Behind the chair.
In the "sitting room"

The "sitting room" was kind of a "front room"
with a couch, loveseat, and a couple of chairs
the chairs were in front of the bookcases...

So I had my little space, behind the chair.
Between the chair and the bookcase.


From what I heard, the people who bought it, 
they turned the downstairs into a yoga studio and 
I think they renovated the upstairs...

I go to that house, in my mind, a lot...
And have walked by, many times...

A lot of good memories, there.

But definitely a presence there.
That was the first time I had seen anything like that.
The door that opened, and closed, in front of me
as though someone had walked through the door, 
closing it behind them...

It freaked me out, and I was so...
Not really "scared" but kind of like "what should I do?"
It took me a while to get up from my bed, 
where I was sitting, to open the door, to look...
But when I did, nothing there.

Which I would prefer
over something being there... Y'know?

Not sure what made me decide to look, though.
It was just, knowing that it had to be something...
That it was most definitely not nothing.
I know what I saw and that I actually saw it.

But that was the place, that was the first time.
All through my life, though, when I was there, alone, 
I COULD FEEL IT.

And I wrote in other posts why that ONE room
was a safe-zone, and I kept the basement door closed.

My mother told me she was the same way, 
but when I was a kid, I didn't talk to her about it, 
or anyone about it except a few friends.
People I had over WHO COULD FEEL IT, TOO.

Other than that, I didn't talk about it.

Anyway, that was the house that the stuff happened at.
Sometimes I want to ask the people who live there, now, 
if they feel anything there... If they saw anything...


Also, I wonder if whatever was there followed me
to other places, throughout my life.

There's something in this place...
I can feel it and others said they could feel it, too.

And that dream I had... About the light turning on...

But there was other stuff at other places.

A couple houses I lived in had those dirt floor cellars...
I never would step foot into those.

There was only one time I got close to going into it...
At one of the houses.

My stepfather had gone in there, 
and he was talking to me, from in there, 
to kind of say "you don't have to be afraid of this place."

That was the only time I even got as close to it that I did,


Just that I can feel stuff when there's something there.
Sometimes I get names and dates that have a link, somehow,

but other times they try to "talk to me" and "show" me stuff
AND IT FREAKED ME OUT SO MUCH
THAT I HAVEN'T "TRIED" TO IN YEARS.

The first time, it really freaked me out.
I was at someone's place... I had just taken a shower.

I could "see" two people but they weren't actually there...
All I can really describe it as... A projection of some kind.
Because it kind of looked like that...

But it was a guy trying to dr0wn a woman in the t0ilet.

I didn't get any or have any info about what could have happened there
or why I even saw that...

I didn't even know the address of where the place was.
But it was somewhere in Quebec.


That was the first time... That I saw anything like that.

The last time I saw something like that, it was like a "thought"
crossing my mind because that's what I thought it was.
I thought that it was just a disturbing thought.
About a murder.
AND IT FREAKED ME OUT WHEN IT HAPPENED.
THE WAY I SAW IT HAPPENING.
EVERY DETAIL ABOUT THE SCENE.
IN ANOTHER COUNTRY...
AS THOUGH I WAS THERE, SEEING IT.

BUT IT HADN'T HAPPENED
AT THE TIME I SAW IT.
IT HAPPENED AROUND 3 MONTHS LATER.

But after that, it just freaked me out pretty bad...
AND I GOT SCARED OF WHAT ELSE I MIGHT SEE.

I know I can pick up on energy, I'm just not a expert at translating it.
Because, yes, energy has to be translated.

It's something to do with the electromagnetic fields.
When I was "seeing" stuff, I didn't know it'd happen.


Was the projection something that had already happened?
Someone trying to "show" me how they died?

That one guy, he told me how he died.
He got sh0t in the laneway and I got a confirmation about it.
Without trying to get it, someone just told me about it
as we were passing by the area.

I never told him or anyone about that guy.
I COULD FEEL THE GUY THERE.

At first, it was just really unsettling... The feeling.
Of the guy... But I felt like he didn't want me
to be afraid of him. He didn't feel evil or bad, to me.

I can just feel energy that's kind of "lingering" around a place.
And names will pop into my head, sometimes.

Like the name of the kid who used to live
at my Grandparents' old place
before my Grandparents moved in there, 
BEFORE I WAS BORN.

How could I have known that?

When the name came to me, 
it was though it had been written on a brick wall.

And I told my grandmother about it.
She told me that was the name of the kid
who used to live there.

And I knew the name
of my grandmother's brother who'd dr0wned.
And that he was a twin.

Stuff that I don't talk about with anyone.
Because it makes me seem crazy.
It's enough to FEEL crazy, for sure.

I got spooked, I guess so I haven't "tried"
to see anything because I don't know
if I'll "see" another murd3r or something
SOMETHING I DON'T WANT TO SEE
And if I saw something:
WHAT SHOULD I DO WITH IT?
WARN SOMEONE?

"Hey, I saw something..."
Then try to explain that stuff...
HOW DO YOU EXPLAIN THAT STUFF?

So whatever's here, I haven't "talked" to it.
I try not to "feed energy" to it.

That dream I had that whatever it was, 
turned on the light...
That freaked me out.

And I could easily freak myself out
if I feed it my energy...

Hard to explain that...


So I just give it its space and I have mine.
Co-existing kind of thing.

But all that stuff is very real. 

I just don't talk about it very much.
Besides, who would I talk to about it?

It's not like everyone believes in it, 
UNTIL THEY EXPERIENCE SOMETHING

And not like many people
EVEN LISTEN TO ME AT ALL...

So why not keep EVERYTHING to myself?
Except for what I write on here?

If it wasn't for blogging, I'd keep everything to myself.
Most of it doesn't really matter.

Even stuff I feel like getting off my chest...


Will it matter 50 years from now?
Will I even be alive 50 years from now?
I'd be 90 years old... 

Someone had said that I'll live to be 84.
I guess, we'll see...


Gone are the days I learned how to play games on SEGA.
My neighbors had a SEGA. And I learned to play Sonic
with them. We'd take turns playing it.

I still remember the first time I played Nintendo.
There was a kid maybe 4 doors down from me.

We used to play on his front lawn...
There was a tree on it, it's not there anymore...
I went by there a few years ago...

They even took out the little hill that was in the middle
of our "square" or "court yard" type thing.

So anyway, the guy had a tree in his front "yard"
and we'd play "cars" under the tree, 
because it was dirt, not grass.

My brother had one of those plastic pumpkin things
that had a handle and it was for collecting Halloween candy.
Just kept the "hotwheels" cars in there...

And I'd play with the "boys" cars and marbles.
And climbing trees, and building forts...

The girls wanted to play "barbies" and they mostly
wanted to play with each other.

Like acting like my friend one day
and the next day it was like I didn't exist.

Around that time I was learning how to knit.
So knitting and reading kept me busy.
And I outgrew my "barbies."

But another thing we used to do was collect stickers.
Yes, I used to have a sticker book.

I'd be excited to get new stickers and we'd trade them.


There were even "scratch and sniff" stickers lol. 
Stickers were a "thing" back then...

I'm talking about the 90s.
I was in grade school in the 90s.

When kids played outside and made up games...
And there were skipping games.


I had a hard time with double dutch...
There were sisters who lived a couple doors down from that guy...

The guy we played cars with under his tree...
That was the guy who had a Nintendo before we got one.

That was the first time I saw The Mario Bros.

The guy's mom had two Rotties.
I remember them. 


Anyway, there was a big fight one night. 
I forget what it was actually about, 
but someone threw a beer bottle
threw the guy's front window...

Something to do with his mom.

Oh, something to do with her dating the brother
of one of the girls I knew...

There was always something going on, there.

One guy got smashed in the head with a crowbar....
I don't know if the guy died or what...

But I remember the cops were all over...
And one of them didn't want me coming into the courtyard thing.
It happened a couple of doors from me.

Our place was in one corner, the other house was in the other corner.
With one place between my place and the other place.

I told her, a female cop, that I lived right there, 
but she wanted me to stay away until they left.
I think that she didn't want me to see anything.

I didn't see the guy, only heard a bit about what happened.
But what little I heard was very little.

There was a really high fence that separated the land
where the houses were from the property of the hydro company.
It spans a distance.

I remember the time I "crossed the tracks" for the first time.
There were tracks that went behind the houses, too. 

I could see from my window, the tracks, 
but obviously, I wasn't "allowed" to go there...

I used to have a bike and I rode it everywhere.
Around my old 'hood...

I'd gone to the 'hood over from mine, and there were paths
behind those houses and I made it to "the tracks."

I crossed them. Not far, though. 

There was a little "swamp" thing and I caught tadpoles.
On the other side of  "the tracks."

But the houses, on the other side of  "the tracks..."
I could see them from my window
and a lot of the time, I wanted to know
what it'd be like to live over there.

If my life would have been different, 
and how much different, 
if I lived over there...


Anyway, there used to be a little "fair" that came by
every summer...

There used to be a couple of big fields by there...

Well, one, closer by the DQ I met my father at...
That field is where they used to have a little "fair."
With a few rides, nothing big, but we looked forward to it.

But now, they build a bunch of newer houses there,
NEXT TO THE GHETTO...
NEXT TO "H BLOCK"
WHERE THE FAIR USED TO BE...

The other field, I'd cross with my mother
when we went to the grocery store at the mall.


I remember the first time I went to the mall on my own.
I wasn't supposed to, but I did.

There was a little restaurant place called Combos.
I remember going there...

It was such an exciting thing, at the time.
Going to the mall by myself...

I went to the pool by myself, though.

My mother made sure I knew our number
so that I could call if I ever needed to.

But I was just always, outside, mostly.
I had to come home for dinner, 
and I could only go out for a couple of hours after dinner.

Because when "the streetlights" turned on, we'd have to go home.
That was the rule.

And staying out after the lights came on, the excitement! LOL.

And back then, my bedtime coincided with when 
Unsolved Mysteries came on or Rescue 911 came on.

When you're a kid, trying to sleep...
With those theme songs playing...

When I was around 7 or 8 years old.

And I had ALF pajamas. I loved ALF when I was 7 or 8.
I got to share that with my son. 
We watched shows together that I loved as a kid.

Introduced him to some things...
And we found out that there was an ALF movie...

The series kind of ended on a weird note
and kids were having bad dreams about what happened to ALF.

So they made a movie
to tell all the kids that ALF was okay etc.


It took me back in time...

Sharing some things from my childhood with my son, 
I loved that.

My favorite shows with him. 
It was something to bond over.

He loves math, but math isn't something I'm great with.
So we can't exactly bond over it...
I'm talking about calculus and stuff like that.

Once I didn't have to take math anymore, 
I stopped taking it. After 10th grade.


My son was telling me that the teachers were
accusing him of using chatgpt for his math assignments, 
he wasn't. 

My son's loved math since he could do addition and subtraction. 

I used to take him to the library and let him pick out
whatever book he wanted to borrow...

I showed him where the math and science books were.
And just let him pick out 3 books.
Whenever we returned the books, he could pick 3 more.

And he'd just be preoccupied with his books...
He'd copy the equations from the books
until he taught himself what the equations meant.

He said he made his whole life about academics...
I get it, but there's so much more to life...

I want him to get to experience that.
And just be happy, for once...


And I just miss those times, with him, 
that I got to share things from my childhood with him. 

One time, a parent of one of the kids at his school...
The parent asked me if I had a tutor for my son.

I told him that I just take my son to the library.

I miss reading to him before bed, and I sang him songs.
One song that I wrote for him.

I don't know if he knows that I wrote it for him.
I sang it to him every night, if I was there.

Anyway, those days are long gone now.

Sometimes it feels nice to remember some nice things.
Even if it "makes" you miss the nice things.


Anyway, I'm starting to feel "alright" now.
Being "on my own" doesn't "make" me feel "alone."
I'd rather be "alone" than be around people who...

COULD HAVE DONE BETTER.

INSTEAD OF LISTENING TO PEOPLE
LIE ABOUT ME ETC.

It was like "pulling teeth" just to have a conversation.

WHEN IT DIDN'T HAVE TO BE.
ALL THAT BS THEY NEVER HAD TO BE ABOUT...

Why try to turn conversations into a fight
just to avoid having the conversation?

Like what kind of BS was that?

If it's gonna be that "hard"
when it doesn't HAVE TO BE...

WHY WOULD I CONTINUE?

Then why BE MAD that I don't want to, now?

DID THEY HAVE TO MAKE IT "HARD" FOR ME?
TO HAVE A CONVERSATION?
ABOUT ANYTHING?

NO? THEN THEY DID IT
BECAUSE THEY WANTED TO
OR ELSE WHY WOULD THEY?

Then jealous females trying to come at me
OVER WHAT? A GUY WHO DOES THAT SH*T?

Anyway, that was a good chunk of my childhood...
When I used to live in "H Block."

Just bugs me that they built that little sub division
in the field we used to have the fair in...

And the field I used to cross to go to the mall with my mother...
They built houses there, too.

Behind that one building. I had heard someone jumped...
That was the story going around when I was a kid...
From a kid who lived in that building. 
She went to my school.

Anyway, that was a really long time ago.
Around 1992 -ish... Or 1993.

I went to that school for a bit then I went to a smaller "school"
and I was the only girl in that class.

The only other class I was the only girl was in the 7th and 8th grade.
The guys in my class would always be fighting.

I don't remember if I wrote about this before, but...
One of the boys pushed the other boy through a front window
at a restaurant during lunch break...

Like pushed him THROUGH the window. It shattered
And the teacher was pretty pissed off.

They had to pay to repair it, the boys.

I was the only one in the class not fighting...
I didn't fight much.


The last fight I was in, where I hit anyone...
Was the time some guy grabbed me by the throat.
I forget why he even did it, but no matter why
no excuse for that...

So it pissed me off that he even would...
I got his hands off my throat and I kept feeding him my fists.

It was across the street from a gay bar...
And some fellas were cheering me on:
"Go girl, go!" Was too funny...

He followed me afterwards...
And I was walking away from the guy...

He tried to "bounce my head" off a light post.

There was a guy, I didn't know him...
I just started walking with him...

The dude I fought f*cked off after that.

That was the last "fight" I was in...
I don't like "fighting" but I could, if I had to.
I just tend to avoid "having to."

I know that if I really tried, I could hurt someone.
That's why I try to avoid doing that.


I remember the first time I ever punched someone.
I was in the first grade and there was a kid
who used to pick on me all the time.

Calling me a "baby" or whatever...

I waited until he was right behind me...
I turned around a popped him in the face.
I broke his nose. He started crying.
And I said "Who's the baby now?"

I remember apologizing to the kid, afterward.
He accepted my apology, 
but he never bothered me, again.

But, after my suspension. 
I got suspended from school because of it.
It was my first school suspension.


He lived in one of the buildings near where I lived
and we went to the same outdoor pool. 

That's when I apologized to him.
At least I did. 

I guess I felt kinda bad that I broke his nose.