Ok, while im in a funk on the last train of thought.

I'm also writing just STUFF from a living experience that is hard to describe in a few words.
I moved out of Spring Valley to a place called Reseda, which i later came to understand was the very antechamber to hell. I moved into a trailer in the back yard of a five bedroom house, for no rent. I moved in there just before winter, coincidentally one of the rainiest winters southern california has had in decades. Beyond that, i moved there because of two people, Aengus and Melissa. Both had made me feel welcomed, warm, like i had sat in front of a fire with a cup of something hot and a good book. This is simply a testament to the ability of people to alter consensual reality.
Both Melissa and Aengus belonged to a woman we all knew as Madame. I had met her at a renaissance faire in Arizona, and had seen her several times that season. In arizona she invited me in, washed my hair and fed me. Grooming does not just belong to the animals as an act of affection, it touches people as something intimate and tender as well. I love having my hair washed by another person. Madame connects to people, she sees within that person and finds little strands of threads begging for contact, and attaches herself to them, or makes herself appear to be attached. regardless, one feels connected to her almost immediately and one feels as if they could tell her anything and that if she needed it, they might do almost anything for her. Feeling like this is only unnerving if one is opposed to connection with people, out of fear. I am not such a person.

When i moved out of my mother's house, I packed a thick, black trash bag of clothes and my playstation. I was moving out right before she moved to Ramona, and moving out really just consisted of me going on a trip to Ireland, coming back to the states, and my mother not showing up to pick me up. I stayed with my friend Tony for a couple of weeks, and then i moved in with a couple of leeches in Spring Valley. They were my friends, one still is, but i learned a very valuable lesson about money management while living there.
This lesson compounded when i had to call my room mate to unlock my bank card in the states because i was in the middle of the Irish countryside (Doolin) and had no money. I then learned that if one were to throw a hat down in the street, and juggle, one might make 11 euro in one hour. One can also get a table at a pub, and wait for the waitress to bring bread. then one can smuggle that bread into the hat as she walks towards the door without ordering any food.
In any case, i moved from juggling on the street to Spring Valley.
by the time i lived in reseda.I had a job in Riverside. It paid cash under the table, and amounted to about three hundred and fifty to four hundred dollars a week. About the same as an ugly stripper, and i was glad for the money. i took the train out on monday morning, and took it back to reseda friday night. I reveled in the independence and solitude of the train station at seven in the morning and the changes as the hours go by until the train leaves at 12:15. A haze of contemplation would fall over me as i watched the Los angeles gutters and landscapes drift by to the tune of Massive Attack,or bjork. Eventually, I would sleep.