Preferring Cats To Covid and Also Cigarettes

October 24, 2021 at 10:12 pm (Commentary, Life, Personal essays) ()

Well yesterday the homeless shelter I’m in suffered a Covid outbreak.

This is why I was leery of going into a homeless shelter in the first place (even one like this that has free WiFi for its clients plus only 4 to 5 people per room) because I had heard that homeless shelters are Covid superspreaders.

But once I had run out of money in my bank account for a hotel room, I had no other choice.

Alberta Social Services will only send me next month’s disability cheque until I actually have a place to rent.

So tonight a friend from the Spanish language Church I occassionally attend drove me over to a place to rent I had heard about from another acquaintance.

It was a trailer in a trailer court.

It was a rather nice looking trailer.

I’d have a couple of other roommates.

Plus cats.

Six cats.

I do love cats.

As soon as I entered the trailer, a cute little black kitten ran towards me, meowed and rubbed her head against me.

“I hope you like cats,” said the owner of the trailer.

“I do,” I nodded.

“That’s good because we have 5 others,” said the trailer owner.

I wouldn’t mind six cats.

The only thing that made me decide not to take a room in the trailer was the over 3 dozen cigarette butts I counted in the trailer’s living room ashtray which appeared to be recently smoked.

I have a terrible allergy to cigarette smoke.

So I’m still in a homeless shelter for now- and one unfortunately with Covid.

And trying desperately to find a place to rent so I can get my disability cheque from Alberta Social Services for next month and once again build up money in my bank account that I lost from having to rent a hotel room because the Wicked Witch of Voldemort threw me out of my community house.

October 24th 2021.

I think I’d much prefer attending the Mad Hatter’s Tea Party with Alice, the Mad Hatter and the March Hare than living in Calgary during a plandemic-pandemic.

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God Vs. The Void

October 20, 2021 at 9:28 pm (Life, Personal essays) ()

Please read the blog post I wrote last night called J’Accuse -The Calgary Dream Center-There’s Something Rotten In The State of Denmark (Calgary).

This isn’t a real blog post per se.

Just an emergency appeal.

Regular readers of my blog know that I was unceremoniously kicked out of my community housing association co-op community house earlier this month for no good reason.

I thought I had money in my bank account until tomorrow.

It turns out I ran out today.

Please keep me in your prayers as I don’t know what I shall do.


The above was how I started my blogpost this morning.

The title I called it then was An Emergency Appeal.

I had run out of money in my bank account.

I couldn’t stay in a hotel another night.

Wasn’t sure where I’d spend tonight.

Well a whole bunch of strange things happened to me today.

Including people coming up out of the blue and telling me, “Don’t throw yourself in the Bow River.”

How did they know I was seriously considering throwing myself in the Bow River and ending it all?

Anyways tonight I’m in a new homeless shelter in Calgary (one that didn’t exist the last time I was homeless in 2016 and 2017).

4 or 5 people to one room instead of a big hall with a whole bunch of sleeeping bags on the floor.

And they have free WiFi for their clients.

Something they didn’t have back in 2016 and 2017 the last time I was homeless here.

So I changed the title of this post to God vs. The Void.

A friend of mine in Bavaria- she believes in God.

A friend of mine in Los Angeles- he believes in the Void.

Although if he hangs around me too long (cyberspacingly speaking), he may have to start reconsidering his position.

October 20th 2021.

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J’ Accuse- The Calgary Dream Centre- There’s Something Rotten In The State of Denmark (Calgary)

October 19, 2021 at 11:10 pm (Commentary, Life, Personal essays) (, , )

As a geopolitical analyst who writes a vampire novel to serve as an instrument to teach people about geopolitical events and current world affairs, I could be writing about any number of geopolitical stories and current events tonight.

Poland is considering leaving the European Union (EU) having concluded rightly (in my opinion) that the EU is the USSR 2.0

Creepy Joe Biden in his most recent hair raising hair smelling video where he’s smelling the hair of a little girl says to her, “They won’t let me drive anymore so that’s why I like to smell your hair.”
What a creep! This guy should be nowhere near children. They won’t let him drive anymore. Yet they’ll let him be President of the United States.

The United States military is in a state of shock because Communist China just tested a low flying hypersonic missile capable of flying anywhere over the globe.

While the United States Military stand there looking stupified (much like their civilian commander-in-chief), Xi Jinping is probably already dancing and singing, “Taiwan, here we come.”

In Trieste, Italy, the Neo-Gestapo Police Force of Trieste brutally beat a group of peaceful protesting anti-vaccine passport dock workers who were peacefully praying the Rosary on the docks.
They fired tear gas and used batons.
A pregnant woman was beaten by police.
Tear gas was fired at women and children.

But sadly I won’t be doing any of these stories tonight to give you my latest run-in and bad treatment at the hands of the Calgary community housing association that I rented rooms from in the period from 2017 until earlier this month.

And this time, I’ll be naming names after the way I was treated today.

J’accuse the Calgary Dream Centre of acting like an insensitive obnoxious bureaucratic institution since the summer of 2019.

I’ve been watching TCM in my hotel room where I’ve been staying after I was kicked out of the community house in Marlborough where I had rented a room from the Calgary Dream Centre (and one TCM movie I watched was a 1958 movie where Jose Ferrer played Alfred Dreyfus the Jewish French Army officer who was falsely accused of espionage back in the 1890s. The name of the movie was J’Accuse taken from the name of the January 13th 1898 newspaper article entitled J’Accuse written by French writer Emile Zola in response to the Dreyfus Affair).

The money in my bank account will run out this Thursday so I won’t be able to rent a hotel room.

I have no idea what I’ll do then.

I’m not staying in a homeless shelter in the middle of a pandemic because those places are Covid Superspreaders.

I don’t want to end up dying alone in a hospital room as a ventilator is shoved down my throat.

For background I direct you to my October 6th 2021 blog post entitled No Sense of A Permanent Home Can Lead To Suicidal Feelings.

Also the October 7th 2021 blog post entitled Housing Crisis, Battle of Lepanto and Possible Chinese Communist Invasion of Taiwan.

I can’t copy and paste those links for you as I’ve lost my copy and paste function on both my ancient obsolete iPhone and my ancient obsolete tablet.

Anyhow the gist of the matter as I recall dates back to the summer of 2019.

Then I was renting a room in a Calgary Dream Centre Community House in the Calgary neighbourhood of Pineridge (where I had lived since November 2017).

The house’s social worker/case worker arrived with her boss another woman to consider the possibilty of renovating the house’s two lower floors (it was a 4-story house).

Since I occupied the bedroom on the house’s first lower floor, I was introduced to the case worker’s boss.

The case worker’s boss questioned me and wanted to know what variety of alcohol or type of hallucinogenic drug I was recovering from (as most people in the Calgary Dream Centre Community Housing Program are recovering alcoholics or recovering drug addicts).

I said neither.

I just suffered from a case of severe clinical depression brought about by the PTSD brought on by my father’s death from cancer back in the spring of 2010.

As soon as I said that, this woman looked at me with an expression of pure hatred on her face.

I guess she thought only recovering alcoholics and recovering drug addicts should be in the Calgary Dream Centre Community Housing Program to combat homelessness.

But I was told at the time I was let into the Calgary Dream Center Community Housing program back in February 2017 that they do let into the program clients who are just suffering from clinical depression not just those with alcohol or drug addictions.

For posts about that time in my life please read the blog post entitled Homeless and Suicidal In Calgary (from February 17th 2021).

Also read From The Rooftops You Can See: A Poem (from February 21st 2017), Snow Falls Like Raindrops: A Poem (from February 22nd 2017), Haiku About Homelessness (from February 26th 2017) and Kwan Yin: A Poem (from February 27th 2021).

Since that time of the summer of 2019, I noticed a change in the attitude of the Pineridge house case worker.

She kept on trying to find fault with the way I kept my room and my bathroom and everything else.

Finally in July 2020, she dropped by to say they’d soon be renovating my room and I needed to move all my stuff out of there.

I said, “I’d rather move. I’m feeling homesick for Edmonton. I’ll move back there.”

I was also angry at Calgary because Calgary’s then fat slob Neo-Bolshevik Communist Mayor Naheed Nenshi had just announced a compulsory mask policy (at the urging of Neo-Bolshevik Communist physician and demagogue Dr.Joe Vipond the 21st Century Dr. Norman Bethune of Alberta).

(Note: A Neo-Bolshevik Communist airhead named Jyoti Gondek was elected Mayor of Calgary last night to succeed Naheed Nenshi)

Of course a couple of weeks later Edmonton City Council adopted the same policy showing that Edmonton City Council is just as brainless as Calgary City Council.

But after that the house case worker was not so nosy around my room.

She must have told the Wicked Witch of Voldemort (as I call the woman who looked at me with pure absolute hatred back in the summer of 2019 when I told her I was not a recovering alcoholic or recovering drug addict) and the Wicked Witch must have thought I was moving out so laid out directions to lay off the harassment.

Then in September 2020 I was given a day’s notice to tell me that I needed to move my stuff out of my room because they were coming to renovate and put a new rug in right away the next day.

So I did it in a day.

When the house case worker put in another appearance at the Pineridge home, she asked me if I was still planning on moving to Edmonton.

I said no and a look of shock appeared on her face.

I said I was only considering moving to Edmonton because of having to move all my stuff out of my room.

If I was going to move all my stuff out of my room, then I might as well move out period I had figured.

But since I was not given several weeks’ notice that my room was being renovated and only given a day’s notice and then did it all under that timeline, there was no need for me to move I figured.

I imagine the broomstick of the Wicked Witch of Voldemort must have hit the ceiling of her office when she heard the news.

A month later a guy dropped around the house to give me a Skopec test or Skojek test or some name like that for the test where you’re asked a series of questions.

The only time I had such a test before was in the late summer/early autumn of 2017 just prior to my moving into the Calgary Dream Centre Community home in Pineridge (I moved into that house on November 1st 2017).

I thought it was strange at the time but I took the test.

Then a month later, the house case worker told me that I’d be moving into another house.

This stressed me out as I had lived in the Pineridge house for 3 years and was used to living there.

The only reason why I thought of leaving was because I thought it would take a while for them to renovate my room (it only took them 2 days).

That was November 2020 they wanted me to move out.

Then as it turned out one of my roomates and good friends in that house was becoming increasingly depressed because he was watching all the TV
news about Covid (I told him for the sake of his mental health that he should stop) and he had started drinking again.

The Dream Centre management wanted to move him into the infamous Room 502 of the Tower to dry him out.

He refused and moved into a hotel room where he began drinking really heavily.

He was taken to hospital with liver failure in December 2020 and died on January 3rd 2021.

Because of the situation with my roomate and friend, they decided I wouldn’t have to move over the Christmas holidays but could wait until sometime in the New Year.

Then in February 2021 they started pressuring me to move into another house again.

On March 3rd 2021, I was finally moved into a Calgary Dream Centre community house in Marlborough.

Then starting on October 1st of this month, they wanted me to go into a house in the Community Housing Program run by the City of Calgary itself.

I was finally given an ultimatum on Thursday October 7th of this month.

You can read about it in my October 6th and October 7th blog posts.

Today I received an email from the case worker for the Calgary Dream Center Community House in Marlborough.

So I answered her.

My email came back with the message MESSAGE BLOCKED and showed a sinister looking Orwellian 1984 style traffic light with a sinister looking red light.

What the- Let’s Go Brandon!

What was that about?

My house case worker had sent me a message.

I replied.

I never said anything offensive.

And for some strange reason, my email was blocked from reaching her and I get the reply MESSAGE BLOCKED with sinister looking Orwellian 1984 overtones.

That did it.

That was the straw that broke the camel’s back.

The gloves are off as far as I’m concerned.

J’Accuse the Calgary Dream Center of acting like an obnoxious insensitive bureaucratic institution.

There’s something rotten in the state of Denmark (Calgary).

And it’s the Calgary Dream Center.

The place is a nightmare.

-A personal essay
written by Christopher
Tuesday October 19th

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Orwell’s 1984 Has Arrived In 2017

June 27, 2017 at 3:41 pm (Commentary, Culture, Literature, Personal essays) (, , , , )

I’m currently sitting here in a coffee shop with free wi-fi having borrowed an honest looking stranger’s laptop to use for a while.

Hopefully he is honest and this laptop won’t remember my passwords.

I don’t know if he believed my story but I think to his shock he did.

Because the way I talked, I think he realized my story did have the ring of truth to it even though what happened to me 24 hours ago feels (and will probably read to you the reader) like a dystopian sci-fi novel.

Judging from his expression, I don’t think he thinks I’m a crazy person either.

He seems to be thinking “What the Hell sort of world are we now living in?” judging from the expression on his face.

Since I’m borrowing a stranger’s laptop, I don’t know if I’ll be able to finish this blog post today (I’m starting it just after 2:30 PM Mountain Daylight Time June 25th 2017) as he may have elsewhere to go in the next hour or so.

But I’m writing this blog post in the form of an email to myself which I will then save as a draft if I don’t finish it before the gentleman wants to leave.

The long and short of it is I can no longer use the computers in the Calgary Public Library- my only source for being able to use computers as I do not own a computer nor do I no longer have a smart phone (as it was stolen from me back in January).

The past couple of months as I’ve been writing, I’ve noticed I’ve attracted an incredible amount of new readers.

Since I don’t really like talking about myself much (I’ve always been an introvert), I spend most of my time at this blog Dracul Van Helsing writing the chapters in my on-line vampire novel, writing short stories or writing poems or haikus (as all my long time readers can probably attest to).

Only when something traumatic happens like not being able to find a job after months of searching, being evicted from my apartment, winding up in a homeless shelter or having my smart phone stolen off me while I slept on a mat in a homeless shelter and then what happened yesterday (which my mind still has trouble adjusting to- I feel like I’ve fallen asleep and can’t wake up- that somehow I’m trapped in the middle of a dystopian sci-f film about an Orwellian future).

Most of my new readers (who have joined my blog the past couple of months) would probably be shocked to realize that I am homeless and jobless. (that’s why I’ve had to use the computers in the Calgary Public Library to do my writing).

I’m currently living in a transitional housing facility for single homeless men (which is a step above a homeless shelter) and getting my rent paid for by a disability income supplement I’m now on through Alberta Social Services.

I don’t drink or smoke or take drugs (and that’s been the case all my life).

How I wound up jobless and homeless is a very long story.

But for those who’d like to know my background of how I’ve wound up in this predicament, please read the following past blog posts where I’ve explained what’s happened to me in the past:

(Please note that the bank account behind my GoFundMe page that I mention in some of those blog posts is no longer operational since that bank account has now been shut down plus I no longer own an apartment to pay rent to).

I hope some of my readers will take the time to read those blog posts.

To help them realize that all homeless people cannot be painted all with one brush.

I think the number of new readers I have who enjoy my writing would probably be shocked to know that I am homeless and jobless.

Well I’m now telling them.

I’m Christopher who writes vampire novel chapters and poems and short stories and haikus here in this blog post which I sign off at the end of each blog post saying written by Christopher and I then give the date on which I wrote it.

One of my new readers Aak fictionspawn has a friend and fellow blogger who wrote a short story called The Shoemaker Who Made Wooden Toys. I forget her name -the woman who wrote the story- but I strongly identify with her character.

Like the character in that story I’m just brimming with new ideas and insights but a world whose sole concern is with business and making money in the usual time honoured manner (no wanting to accept or hire people who think outside the box even though the great Steve Jobs of Apple started out as a man who thought outside the box), I don’t fit into this current world.

And that’s why I’m jobless and homeless.

Although someone somewhere has obviously taken note of my writing and doesn’t like what I’m writing and furthermore sees me as a threat to what they’re doing.

And that’s the reason why I can no longer use computers in the Calgary Public Library system.

And now we’ll get to the main point of this particular blog post:

First off, I’ll start out by saying that I do believe in God.

At one time, I wouldn’t have thought that people who believe in God would ever seriously contemplate suicide.

But after the sheer Hell I’ve been through the past 7 years since my dad died from cancer (the Hell I’ve described in the blog posts I posted above there), I’m sad to say that there have been several times the past 7 years where I’ve seriously contemplated suicide.

This may be due to the severe clinical depression I was diagnosed with by a doctor when I arrived in Calgary last July from Vancouver.

A clinical depression brought on by the PTSD she says I experienced after my dad died and then suddenly finding myself in a legal battle with my sister over his estate. That PTSD of course remained undiagnosed and untreated for years leading to the severe condition that my depression is in today.

Bearing that in mind with my belief in God, I’ve had this strong overwhelming urge to write and continue writing since last November.

When I got an eviction notice from the town house I was living in last December and spent a lot of time away from my writing to search for a new place to live (which I didn’t find since Christmas and the pre-Christmas season isn’t exactly an ideal time to search for new accommodation) and finally ended up again in a homeless shelter on January 1st New Year’s Day this year where my iPhone was then stolen off of me in that same shelter back on January 3rd.

So without an iPhone where I could do my writing using the free wi-fi in coffee shops, I was then forced to do all my writing using the computers in the Calgary Public Library.

I’ve not been able to afford a new smartphone and I definitely can’t afford a new computer (be it tablet, laptop or PC) since I have to use my disability income allowance (which is only about $750 a month) to pay for rent and food.

And of course one could only use the computers in the Calgary Public Library for a maximum of 2 hours a day (although that has now been increased to 3 hours in the summer when many people are no longer indoors using the computers but unfortunately I can no longer do that).

A friend and fellow blogger Daniel (a former employee of DARPA in the U.S.) once told me in reference to my writing that probably a lot of intelligence agencies throughout the world would be or are interested in my writing since Daniel says that even though I write fiction, I often show very astute geopolitical analysis in my writing and can often predict some major geopolitical events before they happen.

This can often happen in the medium of writing.

For example the 1898 novella The Wreck of The Titan by Morgan Robertson was about an ocean liner called The Titan which sinks in the North Atlantic after striking an iceberg. The Titan and its sinking was very similar to the sinking of the real life passenger ship RMS Titanic which sank 14 years later in 1912.

Both Titan and Titanic sank in the month of April in the North Atlantic and there were not enough lifeboats for all the passengers. The Titan was 800 ft. long and the Titanic was 882 ft. long. The speed of the Titan was 25 knots and the speed of the Titanic was 22.5 knots.

Both were triple screw propeller ships. Both were described as “unsinkable”. The Titan was 45,000 tons and the Titanic was 46,000 tons.

Aldous Huxley’s Brave New World has been described as a prophetic novel.

And as the title of my blog post suggests, George Orwell’s 1984 has seemed to arrive in the year 2017.

Although what happened to me yesterday (Saturday June 24th 2017) might better be seen as a combination of Orwell’s 1984 meets Ray Bradbury’s Fahrenheit 451. Although instead of burning and banning books, certain individuals are now prohibited from using the computers in the public library.

In terms of my own writing, I was shocked when I read the manuscript for my 1st vampire novel The Vampiress With Amnesia (which I wrote between April 2009 and July 2010) last year. The novel is now available for sale on Amazon.

Since I do not know how to convert text to a PDF format (which is required for upload to Amazon), my friend and fellow blogger Daniel (the former DARPA employee) did it for me.

He then emailed me the entire PDF manuscript to look over and check for corrections.

Which I did early last year (2016).

I of course had not read that novel in 6 years.

I was shocked to discover back in 2010 to see that I had written a chapter about a group of cardinals plotting to force Pope Benedict XVI to abdicate the Papacy. I even described the methods they would use to do it. And how the German magazine Der Spiegel and the U.S. newsmagazine TIME would be used for their purposes.

Because at the time I re-read my novel, there were stories starting to break in the news media about how that is exactly what happened with the papal resignation of Pope Benedict XVI.

(And that was a cliffhanger about Pope Benedict XVI because I had to stop writing and save this blog post as an email draft at that point because the gentleman whose laptop I was using finally had to leave. Today Monday June 25th 217, I found another honest looking person with a laptop and a mouse (because I only know how to use a laptop with a mouse. I don’t know how to use a laptop without a mouse) and I’m currently using their laptop to continue writing this post which I’m starting just past 3 PM Mountain Standard Time).

Journalists such as Antonio Socci and others discovered the existence of a group of Cardinals called the Saint Gallen Group who did in fact force the resignation of Pope Benedict XVI and promote the election of Pope Francis.

Bearing that in mind, I’ve often wondered whether something I’m currently writing is unbeknownst to me foretelling another certain geopolitical trend that someone very powerful wants kept quiet.

At first I thought this was just my own imagination running wild.

Brought on by the fact that a couple of months ago, the computers in the branch of the public library where I did most of my writing started getting hit en masse by viruses and hackers.

One day when I went there, there were signs put up on over 1/3 of the computers saying Not Available For Service.

I overheard one of the librarians remarking to a library patron that this was strange because none of the other branches in the Calgary Public Library system seemed to be undergoing the massive computer problems that this branch was undergoing.

So in my imagination (brought on by the occasional teasing I get from my friend Daniel and another friend Timothy who lives in South Africa that intelligence services across the world are profoundly disturbed by what I write), I thought that maybe the reason was someone powerful didn’t like what I was writing and so was targeting the computers in the Public Library branch where I do most of my writing.

But I didn’t really take it seriously.

I just used it as an imaginative fancy brought on by the pair of Robert Ludlum novels that I was reading at the time.

But that all changed last Saturday June 24th at around 4:30 PM just as I was about to post my vampire novel chapter entitled Belvedere Discovers His Enchantress.

I was in my WordPress editing function at the time.

I had just copied and pasted my vampire novel chapter from my email to my WordPress dashboard of posts.

I had just finished selecting the categories and my tags for my post and was about to copy and paste the URL for the photo I was using for the chapter when these two librarians with very sinister looking expressions on their faces walked up to me.

Said the female librarian with a Russian accent (and no I’m not making this up- she did have a Russian accent- by the time the conversation was finished- I was imagining she was probably one of Vladimir Putin’s most evil FSB agents), “We couldn’t help but notice that you’ve been sitting at this computer all afternoon.”

I didn’t know that it was a crime to sit at a public library computer all afternoon but maybe it is in this Orwellian world that’s starting to emerge in 2017.

“What time did you get here?” Russian Gestapo Girl asked me.

“2:00,” I said.

What business was it of theirs, what time I got there, I don’t know.

“We have had concerns expressed to us about the blog you’re writing on our computers,” said the middle-aged librarian with glasses and moustache who looked like the head of the most evil Black Ops operation within the American CIA.

“Blog? How do you know that I’m writing a blog? Are you monitoring what people are doing on their computers here?” I asked.

“We’re not at liberty to say,” Big Brother’s Little Brother answered.

“May I see your library card?” Russian Gestapo Girl asked me. (No doubt back in the USSR, she said to people, “Your papers please.”)

I handed her my library card whereupon she promptly pounced on it and grabbed it and said, “I’m canceling this card and blocking you from using our public library computers.”

“What? What for? For what reason?” I demanded to know.

“We have had concerns expressed to us by many about the blog you’re writing,” said the Russian FSB librarian.

“Who is expressing these concerns? And what are their specific concerns?” I asked.

“We’re not at liberty to say,” Big Brother’s Little Brother expressed the same brainless mantra over again.

“Shut down your computer,” the Gestapo bitch then directed.

“Let me finish posting this blog post first,” I said.

“No, people have expressed concerns about the blog you’re writing,” Gestapo Bitch was starting to turn that line into her personal mantra.

“And of course you’re not at liberty to say?” I said looking at Big Brother’s Little Brother who had such an intense look of stupidity on his face that one could almost take it for a strange form of beauty.

“That is correct,” he said sounding exactly like a robot talking.

“Are you going to shut this computer down?” Gestapo Bitch demanded to know.

“No!” I said looking directly at her.

Both Russian Gestapo Girl and Big Brother’s Little Brother stood there with stupefied stupid looking expressions on their faces.

Then they walked away.

No doubt off to call the cops to report me for defending freedom and liberty in Canada when of course enlightened people such as themselves knew that for the good of everyone, Canada should really be part of the Orwellian Brave New World New World Order.

I don’t know who or what didn’t like the blog I was writing.

What were their concerns?

Was I promoting terrorism?

Of course not.

I’m against terrorism whether it’s of the ISIS variety or of the neo-Nazi or Klu Klux Klan variety or of any variety.

Do I promote pornography?

Of course not.

Unless of course they consider posting photos of beautiful women (who are among the many loves of my characters Dracul Van Helsing and Renfield R. Renfield) pornography.

If that’s the case, then they’re very much like the group of women who called themselves The Anti-Sex League in George Orwell’s novel 1984.

So now I’ve finished writing this blog post.

And now I’ll have to edit it.

But the person whose laptop this is now has to leave.

So I’ll hopefully be able to edit this tomorrow.

And get it posted tomorrow.

To my readers, this may be the last blog post of mine you’ll be able to read for awhile.

Because I can no longer use the computers in the public library.

And I can’t keep borrowing laptops from people in coffee shops no matter how honest they look- because chances are I’d probably run into somebody eventually who would keep track of the passwords I’d use.

And I can’t afford to buy a new smartphone or tablet or laptop or PC of my own.

There is a program in Calgary called CLIC (Computers For Low-Income Calgarians).

What the program does is if anybody has a working smartphone or tablet or laptop or PC that they no longer use (because they’ve probably upgraded to a new one), they can then donate those to this program and CLIC will then give the smartphone or tablet or laptop or PC to a low-income Calgarian who can’t afford to buy one of their own.

I was told this by my social worker a couple of months ago.

The program has about a 6 month waiting list she said.

So I applied right after I was told.

That was 2 months ago.

So technically I have another 4 months to wait.

Of course if the waiting list at the time I applied was then even more than 6 months, I’ll have even longer to wait.

To be quite frank, I don’t know if I can wait that long.

The biggest antidote to combating my PTSD inspired depression I’ve found has been my writing.

My writing and my immediately posting it to a blog so I can judge reaction to my writing.

Judging from the number of Likes I get on my Blog posts each day and the number of new followers and new readers I get each day, I realize that my blog is making an impact.

It’s my writing and my blogging that seems to give me meaning and purpose in life.

If I don’t feel I have any meaning or purpose in my life, I don’t see how I’ll be able to successfully overcome my depression.

When my dad was dying from cancer, he made me promise on his deathbed that I would continue my writing (which I did).

“Continue your writing, Christopher,” he told me, “your writing is extremely important to the world and I really mean that. So continue writing, Christopher. Always continue writing. You may not realize how important your writing is but I do. Always continue writing.”

So that’s what I’ve done.

And in the past 7 years since he died, it’s been my writing and my blogging which has given me the greatest sense of relief from my despair and the greatest sense of meaning and purpose in life.

Now my avenues for that writing and blogging have slowly been erased away.

I was forced to abandon my PC and my laptop (with a mouse) in my Vancouver apartment when I was evicted because I couldn’t fit them into my small suitcases.

My smartphone was stolen off me while I slept on the mat in a homeless shelter this past January.

And now I’ve been blocked from using the computers in the Calgary Public Library because Person or Persons Unknown have concerns about the blog I’m writing..

What person or persons unknown?

The U.S. National Security Agency?

Britain’s MI-6?

Canadian Prime Minister Justin Trudeau? (Because I’ve written vampire novel chapters where I have an ET gray from the planet Nibiru called Gali-Gula (who’s possessed by the spirit of the late Roman Emperor Caligula) appear to him and give him advice whenever he’s smoking marijuana?).

Is what I considered fictional in that case reality?

Or maybe it’s Hillary Clinton?

Hillary: Bill, what’s that blog you keep reading all the time?

Bill: You mean Dracul Van Helsing?

The next day:

Hillary: Bill, is the reason you keep reading that blog is because you enjoy looking at all those photos of beautiful women in alluring outfits who are among the many loves of the characters Dracul Van Helsing, Renfield R. Renfield and the billionaire ancient Egyptian vampire Set?

Bill: Of course not. I read the blog to get Christopher’s insightful geopolitical analysis into the current world situation.

Hillary: The same as the time when I found all those Playboy magazines in your desk shortly after you were first elected Governor of Arkansas and you told me that you had just bought them to read the articles?

Bill (grinning): Exactly.

I do not know what are the reasons or who objected to my blog.

But it was someone powerful enough to get the Calgary Public Library system to ban me from using their computers.

My dad thought my writing would someday have impact on the world.

And I guess he was right.

Who would have thought writing a series of novels where I combine vampire legends and ghost stories with Greek and Norse and Egyptian mythology thrown together with current geopolitical happenings would get me banned?

But I guess it did.

And yet somehow I think my father would be pleased.

He’d say, “You’ve upset the right people, Christopher. You’ve upset the right people. And you’ve got the right people for your readers and blog followers.”

-A personal essay written by Christopher
June 25th, June 26th and June 27th

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Haiku About Homelessness

February 26, 2017 at 4:47 pm (Commentary, Culture, Personal essays, Poetry) (, , )

Without home no hope
People view you with contempt
that’s what really hurts

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Snow Falls Like Raindrops: A Poem

February 22, 2017 at 5:44 pm (Life, Nature, Personal essays, Poetry) (, , , )

Today a snow fall
The snow fell like raindrops in suspended animation
Not a typical snowfall
but a magical mystery show of snow flakes looking like raindrops
and hitting the ground
much like a film of raindrops falling being put in slow motion mode

Snow flake falls
slow slow
burst of bubbles in the frozen air
dancing up and down to an unseen melody
of joy and laughter

Amidst this snowfall and its silence
one hears the still voice of God
I have found a new place to live
Last week I thought I had become an outcast
Last night I slept outdoors on a park bench
in the cold and the snow and the wind
for the first time in my life
I had become homelessness
in its most feared fashion
Today a meeting with someone
and I’m moving into a new place tomorrow

How quickly life can change within 24 hours
As I told a friend in Germany yesterday via email
“I now have the feeling God wants me to spend a night
in the cold- the damp frozen cold
If it happened to baby Jesus in the stable,
why should I be spared?”

As I told my friend, perhaps after a night in the cold
things will finally change after 7 years of Hell
the cold northern Hell of Niflheim
and the burning hot coals of Hebrew Gehenna

And so snow falls like raindrops in suspended animation
doing a slow motion dance of bursting bubbles
and magic wonderland
heralding that after the darkness
will finally emerge the light

-A poem written by Christopher
Wednesday February 22nd

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Homeless and Suicidal In Calgary

February 17, 2017 at 7:50 pm (Personal essays) ()

My regular readers will notice that I haven’t updated for a couple of days.

I do not often talk about personal matters in this blog.

I mostly like to concentrate on my vampire novel chapters, my short stories and my poems.

I try to live on a housing and medical benefits income (which amounts to a little over $750 a month) since I was diagnosed by my doctor last summer as being medically unable to work.

I did move into a place of my own last October but unfortunately my landlady/roommate had an OCD (obsessive compulsive disorder) when it comes to excessive bathroom cleanliness and I didn’t keep the bathroom clean enough for her liking even though I tried my best.

I was handed an eviction notice this past December 1st which meant I had to be out on New Year’s Day this year.

Since I was unable to find a new place to move into, I had to go into a homeless shelter.

I decided to try a homeless shelter closer to the Church I attend rather than the homeless shelter I lived in from July until October last year (where I wound up after being evicted from my Vancouver apartment last July due to my inability to pay the exorbitant rents that Vancouver landlords now charge).

I entered this particular shelter at 2 PM New Year’s Day and by 9 PM, I had picked up my belongings and ran out of the shelter.and to the house of a woman who attended my Church.

I asked if she would drive me to the homeless shelter I had been in from July until October of last year.

The reason?

This shelter closer to my Church- 95% of its clientele were crackheads I could discern.

The shelter I had been in from July until October last year had maybe 2% crackheads.

This shelter promised on its signs A Safe and Sober Environment.

Although the shelter had changed somewhat since my return this past January.

Now I discovered they had a client population of about 5 to 10% crackhead.

Of course they won’t let you into the shelter if you’re stoned (I didn’t have to worry about that since I neither smoked, drank nor took drugs all my life) but for crackheads of course, the chemicals will stay in their brains long after they’ve been on their trips which makes them the irrational pharmaceutical and chemically created psychopaths that they are.

I discovered how the clientele had changed back on January 3rd when I had only been in the shelter two days and had my iPhone stolen from my left pants pocket while I slept with my pants on on my mat.

There was also a lot more aggressive behaviour among the shelter’s inhabitants as a result of the increase in crackheads at the shelter.

I tried to avoid the crackheads as best as I could.

I did observe their behaviour but at a safe distance.

Then this past Tuesday night- Valentine’s Day- of all nights this crackhead asshole attacked me on my mat claiming that I had stolen his drugs.

I told him, “I don’t do drugs, asshole” as I fought him off

We finally got up in our struggle and I punched him in the face.

He must have been more aware than I am of how the cameras operated at the shelter because he immediately started carrying on like a big sniveling crybaby, “Waaaaugh! Staff, help me! This guy hit me!”.

Because the cameras do not look directly down on the mats, they can only see what people do standing.

So of course since the only punch that showed up on the camera was the one I had thrown while we were standing, I was the one who ended being suspended instead of the crackhead asshole who started it all.

And then the really ironic thing was that while I waited in the waiting room for the staff to bring me my belongings from my locker in a bag, the crackhead asshole’s ex-girlfriend had a drug overdose (I remember when she was his girlfriend, he treated her really badly and she’d always run crying to her father who also stayed in the shelter) and so was also brought down to the shelter entrance waiting room.

When I left the shelter with my plastic bag containing my belongings to walk to the bus stop across the street, I looked back and a fire truck with a respirator unit and an ambulance were pulling up to the shelter.

The whole scene almost struck me as being a metaphor for Western society today. I was the one being forced to leave the shelter while the asshole crackhead who started the whole fracas was allowed to stay- the same asshole crackhead whose abused ex-girlfriend was being rushed to hospital on a drug overdose.

There really doesn’t appear to be any justice in the world.

I had a Hell of a nightmare trying to find a place to stay this past Tuesday night.

I finally had to rent a hotel room (the cheapest turned out to be $97 a night which really isn’t cheap in my opinion) because I didn’t want to go to any other homeless shelter which has a higher percentage of crackheads than the one I had just left.

I’d rather throw myself into the Bow River than do that.

I’ve been suffering with severe clinical depression ever since my dad died from cancer 7 years ago.

I was finally diagnosed with this condition by a doctor in Calgary this past summer.

I have been seeing a mental health counselor the past few months.

I already had an appointment yesterday to see her at 2 PM and I thought this was timely because I’ve been feeling very suicidal ever since I was thrown out of my shelter this past Tuesday night. I’d rather die than wind up in a shelter with even more crackheads.

When I got there at the clinic at 1;45 PM to see my mental health counselor (15 minutes ahead of my 2 PM appointment), I was handed this piece of paper by the receptionist, “Dear friends, I am leaving the clinic. I have found new opportunities elsewhere. Yours truly,Nikki.” She had left the clinic’s employ 3 days earlier.

So with my usual on-going series of bad luck that has been going on continuously in my life ever since my dad died of cancer 7 years ago, my mental health counselor had up and left her job just when I needed her the most.

So I checked out of my motel today.

I can’t really afford to stay there any more nights.

Sadly the people at my Church have lives and big families of their own and they don’t have the ability or means to let me stay at their places for awhile.

I don’t know where I shall spend tonight.

I have no idea.

I don’t really want to go to any other homeless shelter.

I’ve had it up to here with crackheads.

Maybe I will throw myself in the Bow River.

I don’t know.

This is not a work of fiction tonight like my other writings, my dear readers.

This is the grim God’s honest truth.

Although God seems to have walked out of my life at the moment.

And only the Devil remains.

If you’re a praying individual. please pray for me, my dear reader.

-A real-life personal essay
written by Christopher
Friday February 17th

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I’m In A Homeless Shelter

July 27, 2016 at 1:46 pm (Life, Personal essays) (, , , )

I’m In A Homeless Shelter

Well I’ve spent the past 5 nights in a homeless shelter in case any of you have been wondering where I am.

I got evicted from my Vancouver apartment last week because I had no money to pay the rent this month.

That was the end result of not being able to find a job for 18 months from January 2015 to last month June 2016.

So I begged money to buy coffee so I can be in a cafe with free wi-fi to post this entry since my mobile phone company cancelled my service last Friday July 22nd because I hadn’t paid them in 3 months (counting pennies to pay my rent).

-A painful personal essay
written by Christopher
Wednesday July 27th 2016.

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