then, i wake up monday morning, and extremely cold and windy the entire day, so i didn't get much done. but at least i made it through the day thanks to that dimebag. i stayed in the library and starbucks most that day. i froze my ass off that night, having lost a blanket, and the strong winds whipping over my body, at one point, i thought the wind was gonna blow me out into the street.
but i woke up twosday morning, and it was nice and warm, and no wind. so i thought i could enjoy the day, take it slow, do some thinking, get some extra rest. wrong. i went to the library around one pm. but i couldn't keep my eyes open, since i got little sleep the night before. and they don't allow you to close your eyes at all in the library (since when was a silent place of education such a fascist nazi concentration camp... pardon the pun), so i went outside to take a nap. laid down thin little cloth sleeping bag with smaller blankets in the end of it, and started to take a little nap. within an hour, two horse cops came up harassing me, and wrote me a ticket, which i burned as soon as they walked away. five minutes later, two other horse cops walk up, and arrest me. for laying on the sidewalk.
they arrested me for laying on the sidewalk.
i told them that in seattle and portland, laying on the sidewalk is encouraged, because they know homeless people have nowhere to lay down. he said 'well, this is los angeles', and i said 'and you think that's a legitimate excuse?'. so around three pm, i was carted off to jail.
they put me in this big van. and drove around town, with both sets of horse cops going around harassing all the homeless people. they drove this van around... packing it full of homeless people like a fucking sardine can. i was the first in, they fit three others, and took us to jail. i asked one of the cops...
when you go through your training, do they teach you what fascism is?
my mother would have been proud of that question. one time, when i was being taken to a mental home, in the back of the cop car, i called the cops 'totalitarian fascists'. apparently he had never heard that one before, so he had to drive back and tell my mother. 'your son called me a totalitarian fascist', and she says 'yup, that's my son'.
during our... i don't know if i would call it a 'discussion', but... during our little communicative monkey shit throwing fit... he asked me if i knew about... some fuckin' name, and i wish i could remember, but not really. some spanish sounding name that he later said was... and i forget the word he used, but basically involved with hitler and stalin. i looked at him, like 'buddy, how stupid are you, who the fuck do you think i am'. i took a second to think about that one. rodrigo rodriguez or something like that, i can't remember the name, i'll google it later. anyway, i said 'no, but i know about che guevara', he immediately says 'oh, fuck che guevara, you don't know shit about che guevara'. i love how they assume i'm stupid, and treat me as such. make me look like a real moron, but only in their eyes. as if it matters. just because, no telling when the rapture might happen, and armageddon, and everyone gets judged, he might have five more minutes to treat me like shit and get away with it. goat turd.
anyway. after i mentioned che guevara, and he said that. i saw which way he was leaning. so i said i was actually a bigger fan of alex jones. well, he of course didn't know who that was. and i forget if there was another name mentioned, but i listed them off later. so i said i was laying on a sidewalk at one point, and he tries to say 'well, there was this one time, at band camp'... (i'm paraphrasing, but...) 'where this homeless dude was laying on the sidewalk, and this other homeless veteran in a wheelchair couldn't get around him, so he fell out of his wheelchair. what do you think about that, huh? nothing? yeah, that's what i thought'.
i said 'no, the dude in the wheelchair should have died, he was dumb enough to fall out of his wheelchair'. and i was thinking 'and you should have been an abortion', but they always interrupt too quickly. oh, yeah, and the other name mentioned, was zack de la rocha, however the fuck you spell it. i don't speak spanish, it's my least favourite language. sounds like turds falling out of a meatgrinder to me. i mentioned rage against the machine at one point. a popular middle finger to identify my opposition in their tiny minds. and he tells another one of his 'stories from the force aka band camp'. says 'yeah, well, zack from rage got his car stolen once, and had to call the cops'. i said 'yeah, that's his only option because of you, jackass'.
anyway, when they were loading the last homeless person in the van, i did my little rundown of who he is compared to who i am. oh, yeah, and i forgot this part. the asshole old fart closet retiree that arrested me, said 'turn around and i'mma learn you somethin''. oh, wow, okay, i'm learning from you, yes, sir, master'. my wife got me a poster once of a hot, barely dressed girl wearing a short shirt that said 'teach me a lesson'. i loved that. anyway. so i said to the bald fuck in the van...
so, you don't like rage against the machine, you don't like che guevara, you don't even know who alex jones is, but you do like hitler and stalin... you better figure out which side i'm on, son, cause it'll never be yours.
later, at the jail, i asked another cop, during a short conversation about my displeasure with a monetary society that's a monopoly. i really don't think they understand the hypocrisy of that concept, i truly don't. i think you could get a psychologist to agree. whether intentionally, or unintentionally, they're blind to it. permanently. but i asked a cop...
what do you think comes after a monetary society is no longer necessary?
without hesitating, he said 'chaos'.
so without hesitating, i said 'is that all you're really capable of thinking? you dumb, paranoid, panicky, fearful creature! what the fuck is wrong with you? you don't think there's anything wrong with that?'. i wanted to continue saying 'it reeks of neanderthal shit to me'.
these are the people in charge of what our future is, and what becomes of us, they dictate every day of our lives, and we don't even wonder why ever day is the same. why we see no future.
those are the things that i actually got to say. not very much, but when you're spitting a high iq through the attention span of a straw, it's not easy to say everything you think. and it's not easy to remember a fucking fragment of it when you have ptsd. but i was proud i said those things.
they made the whole process take for fucking ever. but i spent the night there, got some actual sleep. plain cheerios for breakfast, which wasn't bad. i don't often get to have cereal. couple bites of nuclear rat sausage, orange juice. around five pm whensday, i talked to my lawyer finally. he said it was such a stupid charge, they were throwing it out. i just had to speak a little gibberish first. which i've always been curious about. if you kill someone, they go into this immediate pull and take debate using these fucktarded words, speaking some stupid alien insect language, cricketing back and forth someone's future like two mimes juggling one ball, or frogs playing catch with a goat. i've listened to and studied the words they use, the legal terms, and i get it, trust me, i do. let me enlighten you for once, instead of you assuming you're smarter than me like every other neanderthal. pay attention to this, i'm going to put this legal shit in a really tight perspective for you. keep in mind, you're a living organism living on another living organism that's much bigger than you, and has plantlife all over it. keep that image in mind, please. i don't want you falling into the black hole of delusion during this little lesson.
okay. you kill someone. depending on the intent and the legalities of who was involved, and who saw, and how it can be proven... as soon as you talk to a lawyer, and in the first hearing, they decide what they're initially charging you with before any debate at all. you're just guilty, so you plea guilty... first of all, this part right here, if anyone with a third eye can analyze it... guilty, not guilty, no contest. it just means you did it, you didn't do it, or you don't fight what they say. you immediately have to say, in their language, that you did it. i don't think people realize that part, you're admitting your guilt right there. anyone remember 'innocent until proven guilty'?. that never existed, if you studied your history. as long as court cases have existed, that has been the language. think about who created that language, and what their intentions were, and please don't be so naive to trust them.
after the plea is entered, then they get the whole jury and trial thing going, or... if you're guilty (or poor) enough, there's no trial, you go straight to jail. the judge decides the time, you get a letter in your cell, and stay there. now pay attention, through all that shit, and hearings where you're never heard, where other people are speaking and taking up time with their speeches, and you don't get to say much at all, other people decide what they think happened according to everyone involved being honest except you, you're assumed guilty by the judge immediately, even if you do defend yourself. so if you kill someone, you could verbally work your way through a room full of ignorant lawyers and a judge that never get sunshine, and go home quick, being charged with some half ass charge like 'vehicular manslaughter'. or, on the other hand, you could not kill anyone, and go to jail for eighteen years, due to the same ignorant courtroom full of human snails. both cases have happened. i don't know what world you think you're living in, but both examples i just mentioned, i have researched personally, and i know for a fact that they are real, actual occurrences you probly don't fucking know about. do i need to mention the names involved to convince you that your system is fucked from the word 'guilty'? i think i will anyway. for my own satisfaction, cause i also like making people feel stupid. the cops taught me well. see if these names ring a bell. the first one might, but i have a feeling the second one will go right over your head, and you'll have to look it up, but you never will, because you're lazy, and according to your leaders, you don't have to. but let me shove these names in your ear and see if i hear a bell a ringin'.
that's a little nod to gabriel iglesias, by the way. okay, pulling name number one out of the rabbit hat! drumroll!
anyone remember vince neil? singer of motery cwoo? sorry, for the white people in the audience, that's motley crue with soy sauce.
okay, you got that one, but can you guess name number two?
slave, bring the rabbit hat! drumroll!
the west memphis three! ladies and gentlemen we have a loser!
yeah, do your fucking research, asshole. your system is fucked, and you're in denial. guilty.
anyway. back to my thing. the lawyer said that my charge was so dumb that they're just throwing it out and letting me go home. why they're arresting people for these seriously petty charges, when they're dropped and let out the next day, is just harassment. plain and simple. because they can fuck someone's day up... they do.
and depending on how much money you have, you don't even need to pay them off, you just get to walk because of how shiny your name is. but if they can label you satan worshipers and get away with it, you're fucked. and you don't think there's anything wrong with that. so if you think i don't understand what's being said during that legal suffocating stagnant horseshit, boy, you're just looking dumber and dumber. but i'd like to keep this going, because i'm not satisfied with your position on the intellectual ladder of life yet, i wanna kick you down a few more rungs. remember, i'm an intellectual supremacist. choke on that one right now, and i'll get right to the next bit.
they said they were releasing me, but first i had to be assimilated, and treated like a prisoner, a criminal, an animal, in rooms full of criminals, i'm shuffled in. and they all can look so cool can't they? especially when they're trying to be social. the movie 'human nature' always pops into my mind when i see shit like that. grown men playing 'basketball' with the jail raisin bread they give you and a toilet, and half of them dragging their pants on the ground. moving on.
chained up. handcuffed. chain gang into the bus. transported all over while listening to rap music in the buses. oh, i see the mind control and conditioning everywhere, i smell it. you forget, i'm also synaesthetic. i'm a whole lot of other shit you don't know the definitions of. like an audiophile, look that one up, i'll give you a second...
and we're back. i don't end up getting out of jail, walking out into fresh air, until it was dark whensday night. i had to walk three miles to another building to get half my stuff back. my phone, wallet, and a few other little things. and found out i had to go to another building to get my laptop back. a cool guy who got released with me, was nice enough to give me ten bucks for a pack of smokes, but then some other idiot came in later and demanded three for the bus. so i bought a new lighter, and a pack of smokes, and started walking. four percent charge on my phone, but i google mapped the direction at least. it said it was a two and a half hour uphill walk, basically back to my side of town, west hollywood. i kept asking people on the streets for food and money, but there weren't many people out, that part of sunset is apparently pretty dead on a whensday night around ten pm. but i managed to get four dollars, four free tacos from a taco cart, another seven percent phone charge at one point, just before catching the number two up to sunset and wilcox, by where my laptop was. i walked to the building, and it was open, but the property idiot wasn't there, and would only be there on thursday at twelve thirty. i told the guy they had my sleeping bag, but 'there's nothing i can do'. you're a human with legs, walk the fuck back there and get me a blanket, asshole. why does daddy have to give you permission, you fucking slave. adult, my ass, you don't even use adult language like a man with fully developed balls. i see so many weak men on the streets. but i won't get into that.
i made it back to my spot, panhandled for a bit by the seven eleven, got two ones, and then asked some really cool lady by the happy endings bar... had a really cool conversation, actually. at one point, she asked me what really makes me angry (implying on these streets), and i quickly said 'drug addicts, methheads, if you knew how many times a day they come up to me asking me for their shit...'. she cut me off quite a bit, but that's okay, she was getting to a point. i appreciate that. anyway, i wish i could remember the rest of the conversation by now, but she was really cool, and ended up giving me five bucks. i got a hot chocolate, and went and laid down for the night. i was woken up by a cop. yes, another one. i said 'jesus fucking christ, i'm fucking sick of you pricks harassing me! leave me the fuck alone! i just fucking got out of jail, and you're already harassing me again! fuck off!' he quickly said 'what did you get taken in for', i screamed at him, 'for laying on a sidewalk!'. his speech gets very insistent at this point, for a moment, and he says 'i'm actually very sorry for that, i apologize, laying on a sidewalk is not a crime to me'. and asked who it was, i said the horse cops, and he looked unsurprised. he said he was just checking people in the area for warrants and probation and crap. asked me, and i said no, i don't have any warrants, i'm not a criminal, but if you keep fucking with me, i'm gonna start racking them up, or worse, you could trigger my ptsd and make us all have a really bad day'. he walked away half way through that, and drove off. at least he was nice enough to apologize for the arrest, and actually kind of made up for it. then, i sat up, and decided to head up to seven eleven for a hot chocolate and to warm up/thaw out. when i picked up my signs and thin white blanket i acquired last night, i saw five bucks laying under where the sign was that i was laying on, down around where my waist was. i thought it was mine i got from the cool lady last night, so i picked it up and put it back in my pocket. but it turns out, when i got to seven eleven, i found the other five, so that was a five someone tucked under me while i was sleeping there. fucking awesome. whoever that was, people like you make this concrete stay alive, you bring the spirit to this boring plastic existence, you're all that's left of 'christmas spirit' or anything else that ever really made us unite. i hope you know that. i wish i could tell you.
so i got my hot chocolate, and sat panhandling, got a little charge on my phone at starbucks, just enough to have music through the day, and i was waiting till noon to get my laptop. i also had to buy back my lighter leash, cigarette saver, sun glasses, and a new pipe, and still try to get weed with anything left, and weed's the most expensive thing. didn't use to be. i could have five bucks left at the end of a day in my home town as a teenager, and that would get me a decent nickle bag, but not anymore. the idiot government has gone and made weed the top priority on the shopping list just because of such a high price. or last priority, depending on how you look at your day. so, i started off the day with a hot chocolate, and ten bucks in my pocket. i forget what, if anything, happened between then and noon, but around noon, this cute girl named carol walks by, and asks me if i know where to get weed. i said yes, i do, and i took her to meet my friend gabe. she ended up giving me three bucks at first, before going to get the weed, and after getting the weed and then getting back to her motel room, she gave me another twenty, and a ganesh crystal (not like the meth that i get asked for twenty times a fucking day, real crystals. the last one i had was in san francisco).
so, this was what all i had before i was arrested:
laptop/bag, mouse, powercord, phone charger, sunglasses, sleeping bag and blankets, cigarette saver, lighter leash, compass and pocket knife (from the redwood forest with my mother's name on it that i got just after she died, there's a picture of it on my facebook... that's how sentimental i am these days, if i'm gonna lose something, i get a picture of it at least. memory is just as good as having it. i once had it, and i can still remember. maybe someday get it again. try losing an entire collection of movies and never having written down the list, and repurchasing them all from memory. see how many you can do. sorry, rambling), safety pin (the good kind)... and keep in mind, i have a whole philosophy about traveling light these days, but i can always count on the cops to lighten my load once in a while. anyway, i had a bunch of papers in my laptop bag, my pocket comb, my water bottle, half a pack of smokes, my pipe, thankfully i had just smoked my last bowl of weed that claudia got me. assorted pot stuff, scrapers, a bottle, etc. my marker to make signs with, which is an important necessity at all times. i also had a rather important business card, thankfully i remember some of the name on it. wings of laughter with monique something. mcfadden, i think. i'll google it later, but she was going to help me get on stage. that's vital right now. they took that, my comb, my sunglasses, papers with homeless information on them, assorted shit.
here's what i got back:
laptop/bag, mouse, powercord, phone charger, phone, compass (without knife), pen, wallet. that means that my sleeping gear, paperwork, sunglasses, cigarette saver, lighter leash, comb, pipe, half a pack of smokes... yeah, i'll get you a calculator.
but after today, and thanks to some awesome people, i got a new pipe, a little weed, two packs of smokes, chinese food! (thank you, carol!), a crystal... i'd say right there, i've made up for the loss. lighter leash and cigarette saver are easy to replace, even got some new sunglasses for eight bucks, pipe for eight bucks, and i've still got five left to eat with tonight. and i need to get to the free dinner to see sarah and try to get another sleeping bag and some socks. my feet are so blistered up, i keep thinking i'm hearing screaming cats while i'm walking down the street. is that bad?
oh, yeah, one more thing. when i mentioned 'fascism' in the van, the cop thought i was talking about 'fashion'.
so... all in all... thank you to claudia, carol, sarah, and whoever the lady was last night at happy endings, and the mysterious sleeping five bandit. without you i probly would have snapped and stabbed a security guard with a banana by now. you know as well as i do exactly how not smart that would be. thank you.
and if i'm forgetting any events in there, i'll try to add them later. also, thank you to sandra for the emails. my new york friend. and i'm hoping to hear from cecilie, my blue haired norwegian friend. i miss you, sweetie.
i need to email monique mcfadden and carol and follow up with claudia's emails. i need to make a bunch of calls in the next few days about overcoming homelessness. i need to see sarah at the food line tonight. i need to text a few people who have given me their numbers in the last few days, including jack in north hollywood, devin and al from jail, and i'll try to remember the rest. preston the metalhead from seven eleven last night. a lot of happenings, i feel like energy is finally moving around me, a little closer than usual. i can feel the current of societal waters noticing me like fish in a dream. things are swirling. i can feel it through my skin. but i also feel like someone else is finally taking notice. i'm hoping that's not the case. if you don't know who i'm talking about, then you don't know shit about why i'm here, and you should do your research.
i want to go to the human rights building down the street, and ask them...
high. i'd like to stop being harassed by cops and security guards. i want them to understand, i'm not some piece of trash they can kick further down the road.
i want to make a panhandling sign that says 'poverty is not a crime. stop harassing the homeless'.
but most of all, i have to start my religion. i know that's the answer to all this. once i do that, they can't touch us. and if they do, from that point on, they just prove themselves dumber and dumber. i can't wait to see it. it's gonna be springer worthy.
my mama taught me the best lesson of all. she said son, don't just learn from your own mistakes, watch the show cops. i have certainly learned that lesson well, mama. thank you. you'd be proud. you raised your boy right. that picture of you with your middle finger up, i can see in those eyes how proud of me you'd be. i know who you were. i miss you, mama.
if you have learned a lesson from this, you get a psychedelic point.
if you haven't learned anything from this...
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