The last place I lived at had every tenent contain a broken spirit, so they'd fix it with drugs, sex, TV, cigarettes, crimes, and other vices practiced in that roach/rodent motel. The place smelled like socks and dope, and on good days, dope and patchouli. I have no reason to live in that old shack again, since some of the familiar faces died last year. Anyone still living there is a hopeless case, and I'm still one of them. "Get out of here!" is what I use to say to fresh-faced tenents, and if they hadn't moved already, you saw their faces change. No matter what kind of smile they struggled to stretch across their faces, their eyes leaked out their secrets. My cousin, christian girl she is, wanted to come out from Winnipeg to Vancouver and visit me, but I was embarrassed to have her see how her actor cousin lived. Worst of all, what sludge would saturate her good spirit as she'd be wading through the crack-heads, junkies, homeless beggars, pan-handlers, tourists, night-clubbers, and welfare bums. Having been a welfare bum, it's shameful to have the social workers look down on you like a piece of snot under their fingernail. They're just as bad as the student loan collectors.

Speaking of those bastards, I haven't heard from them lately. Never gave them my new address and phone number; they'll find me: I'm a student loan fugitive. Thanks to my dad's absent-mindedness, they couldn't get a clear answer out of him. He was telling them the truth when he said, "I don't know where my daughter lives out there", since my mom would send me care packages and money for rent. I don't envy then at all: there must have some guy in a black and white suit, dark sunglasses, and a pistol pointed at their temples as they harassed me and other victims.

Out here, I feel safe in my room, blanketed by my never-made bed, spooning my teddybears, hypnotised by my small TV, only to leave my room for coffee and/or other nourishment. I wish I could have everything served to me in my room: movies, food, the computer, but eventually I'd have to leave to take a bath. That's my other sanctuary.