Monday, February 27, 2012


I took off from St. Francis House a week ago last Friday to work for a man at his ranch in return for a free private room and meals. It was hard work. I met a young man who had had a tough time. He was there before me. He had committed suicide. He was dead for 4 minutes and the first words he heard were those words they say when they are using the fibrilators. What? I've forgotten. Anyway, this fellow had lived a hectic life, smuggligng dope across the border at 18. He was from N.Y. like me and was speaking of going back there soon. The fellow he worked for had been robbed of his prescriptions which included narcotics. One of the other boarders was accused of it and that fellow had escaped them. But the suicidal young man appears to have been in collusion with him. He stole more, a TV from the "employer," and my computer. My videocamera and flatbed scanner were taken as well. I should not have been so gullible as to think these things were safe at this place.
I miss my computer. My references were stored there. I don't know any addresses and so forth that I can put on applications as references.

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