I did have an excellent run on the mountain of love.
I always feel at peace when I run on the back trails.

But just recently I have been feeling that perhaps my
time in Montreal is coming to a close. I would not be
able to find another apartment so close to Mt. Royal
for such a low rent. I have been here for 12 years.

I do not want to try accomodate the loud guitar-playing
of the idiot neighbour. If I am the only one in the bulding
complaining it does not look good. My neighbours are
reluctant to make complaints, for whatever reasons.

I was living as a homeless man in Halifax about 13 years
ago, and in different poetic ways I realized that I could
find some peace there, as a volunteer with poor people.

I went there when I had a delayed reaction to the suicide
of my massage teacher. Nothing made sense to me. The
ceiling and the floor both collapsed. I spent many hours
wandering alone, talking to the Atlantic Ocean. Finally I
became convinced that my massage teacher wanted me
to return to Montreal to try one more time to do his standard
of massage work here.

The ocean was saying that if I felt unsafe or unwelcome
in Montreal that I could come back to Halifax and make a
new home there.

I have some very good memories of Halifax. I met some very
soulful, sincere people. I think maybe I have had enough of
wealthy glamour people --- look at me! look at me!

I might have to admit defeat and move on.

The psycotic guitar god is giving us a free concert on his electric
guitar right now. He sounds hostile and angry. Definitely not
playing in his expensive recording studio. Pathetic, needy
and useless. He is one fucked up princess, lonely & lost.

Now we are getting another free concert from the idiot neighbour. Definitely not playing within his soundproof studio. Louder and louder.

We are getting little mini-concerts again this evening from
the psychotic princess himself. I cannot listen to my own music
without earphones/earplugs. He believes that he owns the
acoustic space of his building and our building.

A long time ago he told us that it would be war if we phoned
the police. Lonely, frustated little shit, so needy and so useless.
I have to turn volume way up to not hear him.

Pathetic little man.

Normally I am knee deep in donations of clothes, linen,
housewares, books, etc. all Sunday morning. But this
morning I was in the local Protestant cemetery which
is on the mountain of love, the big wooded rockpile
right outside the door of my shack. It is called Parc du
Mont Royal. Together with both universities, two
hospitals and three cemeteries it occupies more than
600 acres of rugged woodland.

The cemetery sponsors tree tours & historical tours
every year. This is the third time for me to go along.
We do have some spectacular specimens in very
beautiful settings. This is one of my favourite places
to run and walk. The terrain is very sensuous and
dramatic and peaceful. Contemplating the 3-dimensional
existence of trees is a serious mediation for me, since
forever.

My legs were stiff and sore when I started out this morning.
Yesterday I ran hard and did 213 pushups in 3 sets, spread
out during the run. Three hard sprints during a 90 minute run.
It is already too chilly on the ground to get down on the grass
for doing abdominals. I did 260 - 270 crunches, twists &
reverse situps, back at the shack, naked as a blue jay.

Also, Friday at the street mission where I volunteer I carried
many heavy boxes of food downstairs. I could really feel the
combined effects of the heavy chores and the hard run today.
We had 2 or 3 good blasts of rain during the tree walk but
nobody complained. We are all dedicated tree lovers. I think
there were 25 of us.

The mountain of love is just beginning to show the change of
colours. Ridiculously Beautiful.

Fucked up Princess wants us to know how important he is.
He started wall-thumping last night and continued all day
today. But that does not really satisfy his need to find an
audience.

So now once again we are getting some serious bass-playing
for free. I think someone made a complaint, likely our landlord.
He has been showing the apartment above me to prospective
occupants. You would not want to sign a lease when you
hear this pathetic ssshole trying to take over the acoustic space
of the whole building.

So needy and so useless. Fucked up angry headcase.

Idiot psycho guitar god neighbour wants us to listen
to him play his bass guitar. Pathetic, lonely little shit.
Soon the apartment above me will have a new occupant.
It is hard for the landlord to keep that place rented because
the fucked up princess in the next buliding really does
believe that he owns the acoustic space of this building.

Wealthy glamour people who have their heads up their
ass are impossible to live with.

The idiot psycho guitar god is giving us another free concert
on his bass guitar. He wants to be heard. He is not using his
expensive soundproof recording studio. He has been turning
up the volume gradually over the past 20 minutes, thinking
that we will appreciate his great skill.

Pathetic little shit, so needy and so useless. So desperate for
attention. A long time ago I told him that he should go downtown
to one of the stipper bars. It does not cost that much. He is
certain to find someone willing to pay attention to him.

He is behaving like a fucked up princess.

The psychotic but wealthy idiot guitar god in next building
has been playing his bass loud and superloud and quieter
again all afternoon long.

I have no idea how it feels to be so frustrated, so needy,
so desperate for attention. For fuck sake! He used to boast
to me that he had a soundproof recording studio in his
condo.

Unhappy little man.

Here we go again. Pathetic little shit next building playing loud
bass for us. He sounds hostile and unhappy.