SLAIN

The New Year caught me, as usual, having a drink with my friends. Those friends being the members of the church I have been visiting regularly for over 4 years, maybe over 5 years, and the drink I was having is communion wine, “Jesus’ blood shed for me”. Since I began the re-dedication of my life to Christ, I have found myself to and in church, every New Year’s Eve. And, unbelievably, to me, this is my 8 year, starting at Church of Ascension and now at St. Andrew Parish Church. The journey started at St. Mary Parish Church (but I left St. Mary before the end of 2008, the year this re-dedication began).

I’m going to Ocho Rios later, though I haven’t secured a hotel room as yet. Right now, I think I should get some rest. I had a difficult time getting a bus home, but thanks be to God, in the name of Jesus, I eventually got a No.75 and reached home safe after 2am. Its 2:59am right now.

9am. Year starting off very bad. Depressed. Now even the room at Reggae Hostel is gone. Some checked-in last night. I should be on my way to Ochi, instead I’m laying down depressed in my bed. Fed up. Feel constantly let down by God, though I’ve tried to trust Him and give Him thanks no matter what. This God thing not working out.

9:30am.
“he has made me a laughingstock”
Job 17:6, GOD’S WORD® Translation

“You have made us the butt of their jokes”
Psalm 44:14, New Living Translation

This is how I feel right now. Like God has made me as a laughingstock and as a joke.

9:45am Part of my New Year’s resolution was to once again (like in 2014) go to church every Sunday, but this time, to go early. However, after this morning’s everlasting waiting on the bus and the walking up and down looking for transportation plus the news from Reggae Hostel, the second loss of a room in a week, I’m scrapping that and all the other prospective spiritual-related New Years resolutions. I don’t think they mean a thing to God, or He would have been quick to save me. I’m tired of the nick-of-time living and tests of faith, and giving thanks in vain. I been looking at some late 19th century to early 20th century Russian history for something I’m writing, and, on March 1 1881 (I think) Tsar Alexander II stepped from his carriage, unscathed, after it was attacked by a bomb-throwing terrorist. He gave God thanks not knowing that other attackers were also present and the second terrorist, shouted something like (I’m writing this from memory) “It’s too soon to thank God” and threw a second bomb that this time killed the Tsar. In about 1917, the Tsar’s grandson Tsar Nicholas II (I think) and his entire family, his cook, his children’s nanny, his valet and his doctor, were taken to cramped cellar and executed by the Communists. The nanny, Anna Demidova (name similar to the current dancer) regained consciousness and realizing she had survived the execution openly and verbally gave thanks to God, but the executioners were still in the room, heard her thanksgiving and proceed to finish her off. Those two incidents really makes one wonder about the benefits of giving God thanks.

That said, I continue to give Him thanks because I don’t know what else to do. Like Job I continue to trust Him though He slays me, because I have no one else to trust in. And like the disciples, I have no where else to go, except with Jesus. And the truth is, I love Jesus more than I love any human being. I live for Him and without Him I die. And dying is not such a bad thing if we live for Him, because then we shall live WITH Him. Nonetheless, I’m still depressed and disappointed. But I give Him thanks still and trust in Him still, for David says “Blessed is the man that trusted in the Lord.” THANXb2GOD. It is 10:20am

I’m going nowhere. New Year messed up.

Lord, to whom shall we go? thou hast the words of eternal life (John 6:68). Though he slay me, yet will I trust in him (Job 13:15). O Lord of hosts, blessed is the man that trusteth in thee (Psalm 84:12). In every thing give thanks: for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus concerning you (1 Thessalonians 5:18).


Psalm 84 (KJV) - How amiable are thy tabernacles, O LORD

1 How amiable are thy tabernacles, O Lord of hosts!

2 My soul longeth, yea, even fainteth for the courts of the Lord: my heart and my flesh crieth out for the living God.

3 Yea, the sparrow hath found an house, and the swallow a nest for herself, where she may lay her young, even thine altars, O Lord of hosts, my King, and my God.

4 Blessed are they that dwell in thy house: they will be still praising thee. Selah.

5 Blessed is the man whose strength is in thee; in whose heart are the ways of them.

6 Who passing through the valley of Baca make it a well; the rain also filleth the pools.

7 They go from strength to strength, every one of them in Zion appeareth before God.

8 O Lord God of hosts, hear my prayer: give ear, O God of Jacob. Selah.

9 Behold, O God our shield, and look upon the face of thine anointed.

10 For a day in thy courts is better than a thousand. I had rather be a doorkeeper in the house of my God, than to dwell in the tents of wickedness.

11 For the Lord God is a sun and shield: the Lord will give grace and glory: no good thing will he withhold from them that walk uprightly.

12 O Lord of hosts, blessed is the man that trusteth in thee.

King James Version (KJV)
by Public Domain

https://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=Psalm+84&version=KJV

11:00am :(

11:49am: I call Fisherman’s Point. Claudia says there are no rooms available there but they have another hotel (or two other hotels) where rooms are available. Its $10,000 a night. I started with $7,500 at Turtle Beach Towers, lost that room, because the occupants were extending their stay. Then I got a room at Reggae Hostel but they only did online booking. That was $8,850, but it had a fridge, tv, wifi and air-conditioning. The $7500 studio at Turtle Beach Towers, had all of this, no wifi, but had microwave and stove as well. But the money keeps going up and I only have $22,500 and staying two nights, and about $1,000 of it is for transportation. All these hotels are on the beach, but I wasn’t certain if Claudia said Skycastles or Sandcastles and if it was that hotel located between Turtle Beach Towers and Reggae Hostel. In any case, probably because I was still in a dazed and depressed miff, I called Rooms on the Beach, which is on the same stretch of beach and used to be a standard US$99. After some transferring, I was put onto a pert-voiced young lady who gave me a figure of US$300. I don’t know whether it was for one day or two but it didn’t take much calculation to determine it was way beyond my budget. I quickly call back Fisherman’s point. It’s 11:59am.

11:59am: I call Fisherman’s Point and get Claudia again. Note: it’s 10 minutes exactly since I called her. I’m trying to get more info on the hotel she mentioned, including location. She says someone walked in and took the last room she had there. 10 minutes!
I call back both Ms. Walker at TBT and Shanique(?) at Reggae Hostel to see if there are any changes. There are none. Ms. Walker is apologetic as usually (and should be, I think, as I had booked early as she told me and then lost the room). [I had also e-mailed Gillian who I had met at Turtle Beach Towers previously about availability of the apartment she owned. She had replied: “Already booked til Jan 2 - sorry! Happy new year when it comes!
Gillian”]

12:10am: A voice in my head (I know now is God’s) reminded me about Silver Seas, a hotel, whose location (James Avenue in the hustle and bustle of downtown Ocho Rios) I was familiar with but never stayed there nor wanted to stay there, because of its location as well as the poor reviews it had on the internet (though there are some fair reviews as well). I remember their rates were similar to the Reggae Hotel rooms that had no fridge or air-conditioning, in the region of $7500 (which still made the TBT studio the most economic choice, with all its amenities).

12:13am: I call Silver Seas. The pleasant young lady does not even give me her name, but she says a few rooms are available and for $6900. The price sounds good, better than all the others. It would leave me with spending money of $7,700 (maybe I could even return to Kingston with some funds still left in my pocket). However, like Reggae Hostel they weren’t doing over-the-phone bookings. I eat, shower, packed, get dressed and leave for Ocho Rios but by that time it’s approximately 2pm.

 4:30pm (approx): I’m in Ocho Rios. I’m in Ocho Rios after two JUTC buses and a cramped mini-van ride to Ochi (plus I’m carrying my knapsack, with my snacks, Ole tortillas, Coronado corn chips and pretzels - a mixture of which I munch on, on the way down; cheese, processed jerked chicken slices, Pita bread, 3 tin sausages, 2 cup soups, mayo, 3 bottles of varying pepper, 4 packs of seasoning for the soup, and a quart bottle of Appleton rum and 1,5 litre of Pepsi - a mixture of which I also drank on the way down; I’m also carrying a huge laptop bag stuffed with my Fliptop, dvd external player, dvds, which turned out to be all blank, and my clothes). I went down James Avenue, which seems to have two entrances from Main Street; and I was on the wrong one. I couldn’t find Silver Seas and two little boys on bicycles directed me to go to the end of the road, then around the corner. I didn’t feel safe, but I rarely know fear (though I’m well acquainted with “caution”). The place they directed me to seemed very run-down and it said something like “Ocean View”. I remember one review saying not to judge Silver Seas by how it looked on the outside. But this looked bad. A couple was parked in a car outside. I went in. Even the counter in the lobby area had a makeshift look to it. I asked the lady behind the counter if this was “Silver Seas”. She seemed quietly surprised, I think, that I could think this was Silver Seas. She smiled and said “No… further up the street”. I left and went back the same way and met the two boys on bicycles again. I think they were encouraging me to go further up the road. I told them that was not Silver Seas and that I knew where I was going. I then asked an older man and he sent me in the same direction, the boys sent me but said, it was a chain and a half up the road on the left, then he changed his mind and said “Two chains”. (From I was a little boy, whenever we visited the country, any place we asked for, the rural folk would directed us that it was “just around the corner, a few chains”. Everywhere was just around the corner. I’m almost 56 now and I still don’t know what distance a “chain” is.) Anyway, I went back past “Ocean View”? (I’m not sure I’m recalling the name properly). A little place named Marine View was on the right and a kind of matchbox, fowl-coop-looking, tenement-yardish hotel on the right as well (I saw the name but just can’t remember it now). The two boys on bicycles joined me again. A white man with a mop of too-much white hair was also walking in the same direction. I felt a little more comfortable, though foreigners sometimes go places in this country that angels would fear to tread. Silver Seas had a huge lobby. An older man who was either security or a porter, and who had a retired police officer look, wearing a jacket, was sitting on a high chair, one foot up on something. He asked me, with his eyes what I needed.
“Checking in” I mumbled.
“Checking in?” he repeated, and I reiterated, “Checking in”. He silently directed me to the check-in counter, where an unsmiling man said “no rooms available”.
“I had called -” I started but I didn’t even have the name of who I spoke to.
“All booked out” he repeated, then looked down to whatever he was looking at when I came in. I walked off disappointed again. This was the fourth room I had lost.
The “old policeman” - let us call him that - as I passed him, offered “Try Marine View down the road”. Immediately, as he said that, a middle-aged man appeared on a bicycle. I asked him if I could get back to Main Street by continuing up the road, and he said “Yes” but was obviously leading me back to down the road to Marine View. He stopped at the matchbox maze of rooms and spoke to a rastafarian at the entrance (though there was no real entrance, just an open expanse).
“You have rooms?” he asked the Rasta.
“Yes” the Ras answered, and my escort, asked if I wanted to stay there or still try Marine View. I nodded to Marine View.
“If they don’t have rooms, we can try back here, ok?” he asked/said. It was “we” now - we were in a partnership it seemed - but I didn’t mind since I use “we” as well when I’m talking to my customers and seeking a resolution to their problems. At Marine View he went in and inquired if they had rooms and even showed me a back gate that led to a lane and short cut to the part of James Avenue I had originally entered from.
“Just follow it, then make a left, then Main Street just up the road,” he said, then my good samaritan disappeared on his bicycle.
The receptionist was Jean. I don’t even remember how much she said the rooms with air-conditioning and cable-tv was, because ones without, were an amazingly low $4800. She took me an showed me two of the $4800 rooms, though I thought she was carrying me to show me one of the a/c rooms as well (as I was still pretending - maybe even fooling myself - that I was interested in those). None of the rooms looked impressive. But then for $4800 that didn’t matter. I chose the room above the lobby and near to the outside stairs. I had to pay $500 key deposit (like I used to do at Pier View Hotel, now Reggae Hostel), but she couldn’t take it off the debit card but gave me the key anyway and trusted me to bring the money later, and I did, before she went off duty. She told me about the pool, the bar, the restaurant and that the beach was nearby. A gentleman came while I was checking in and seemed to ask her if I had been recommended here by Silver Seas. He was probably the owner (and sort of reminded me of the late Mr. Goldsmith who originally owned Pier View, a man I always liked. But this man didn’t look european-Jewish, though he looked middle-easternish). The shower had no hot water (I thought) and I couldn’t find a light switch for the room. I had to screw the bulb for the light to come on. The bathroom light had a string on it to turn it on as well as the overhead fan and the other, rotating one, mounted on the wall, that sounded like a loud, small-boat motor. There WAS a tv in the room but Jean had told me I could only get few channels on it, and no cable channels. I tried and could get NO channels on it. The Roof nightclub (which I visited, about 15 years ago with Trudy, my then 18 year old girlfriend, during my supposed mid-life crisis romantic years) was nearby. The loud music sounded like it was being played in the bathroom and would go on well into the morning, as would the many conversations taking place below my closed windows. It definitely wasn’t Turtle Beach Towers but I had $11,900 left in spending money and I was in Ocho Rios.

I begged God forgiveness for my earlier behaviour and gave Him thanks. I was in Ochi after all.

A throwback to ten years ago: January 1 2016

Thursday January 1 2026 12:05AM

The trouble continues. A new year doesn’t make a difference. Unable to apply for refund of 2018 contribution. The list stops at 2017. Government needs to update their website. Don’t fool yourself. We’re still living in a Third World Banana Republic, governed by Small Island Mentality. 

   Should we blame President Trump, even though we live in Jamaica. It seems that’s the person everyone blames all around world. I would say “poor man” if it actually bothered him or if he cared. And in fact, he’s a very “rich man”.

For all that’s been happening to me from mid-year last year until now, I try to say mea culpa  and blame myself, but it’s obviously not my fault. It would appear it’s really God’s fault, though this fuck-up with the Contributions Refund site is most likely and most definitely the present Jamaica Government’s fault. I still want to blame Pat, but I did say I would stop that.

I feel like Peter  Finch in Network. I want to stick my head out the window and shout “I’m as mad as hell, and I’m not going to take this anymore!”. More than that I want to aay “Fuck off!"  to all the abovementioned entities.

Sunday December 28, 2025

This loud church next door really annoying me now, especially the terrible amateur piano playing. The person plays the piano like a clanging symbol.

I eventually got $5000 I had transferred but by then I had transferred another 5000 and impulsively transferred another 4500, both of which haven’t come and though I want to check, I don’t expect them to come over the weekend. If they don’t come by the end of tomorrow, I’ll have to visit probably both institutions on Tuesday.

I am not blaming Pat anymore. But God, in the namemof Jesus, I’m praying, why can’t I have just one good day, where everything goes according to plan, rather that this one battle after another (I watched that movie a few days ago on HBO).

Wednesday December 24, 2025 (Christmas Eve)

Can’t tell the last time I’ve had a good day. Once again, I transferred 5000 ftom my CWJ Credit Union account to my National Commercial Bank account on Monday December 22 and it still hasn’t reached. Thanks be to God, FLOW sent us a GiftMe card and I used it to buy a chicken meal from Chicken and Tings or else I would be starving right now. I have a few thousand left on it. I bought a few items earlier from the supermarket to test it. Have about 7000 left on it. Planning to go back to the Supermarket so I have something I can munch on tomorrow (my very worst) Christmas Day #thanksb2God

Monday December 15, 2025 (uncompleted)

This year started out so strong. Financially I was doing well. Ocho Rios really became the place where it’s always better, as I’ve said for years: “It’s always better in Ocho Rios.” Whenever I ended up in Ocho Rios it would be like a heavy burden was lifted off me. It’s the place, where I find myself with $3000 (different from my fare back home) and wanting to have my usual fish and chips platter and a rum and coke at Ocean’s 11, but knowing I would need at least $8000, including tips. I would put my desire to God (who may not agree it’s up to them) and passing by the casino, decided to give up on the food and try my luck with the $3000 and be walking out and down to Ocean’s 11, less than half-hour later, with $40,000. And this has happened more than once. Or turning into my favourite bar near the hotel with $5000 and leaving less than an hour later with a profit of over $50,000. Only in Ocho Rios. But I’m really there most times, not for that but for relaxing on the beach and forgetting about the stress of town, home and work. This year every month for the first 5 months I was in Ochi for some time, but some people, specifically 1 person did not like seeing me enjoying myself. The lady I was staying with. She raised my so-called “contribution” over the few years I was there from $10,000 to $22,000, saying she would add 5000 every 6 months, which she started to do. But when she saw I was still able to afford going to Ocho Rios whenever I got paid, she sent me a WhatsApp message that basically said, she can’t stop me from enjoying myself but she wanted me to find alternate accommodation. It was a last ditch effort to prevent me from going to Ocho Rios but having to pay rent somewhere else, knowing I could never find a suitable place where I could pay $22000. And it worked. So here I am paying $55000 every month and from May until now I haven’t been able to afford even one night in Ochi and this second half of year has become one of the worst times of my life (though I’ve been through worse that this a few other times in my life. This month is not looking much better either. Usually I’d be getting pay today or, since I’ve switched to the Credit Union tomorrow. This year for the first time in my entire life, getting a monthly paid salary [45 years] I understand we’re getting paid not today but by Friday and with the Credit Union, I may get it the Monday after, 3 days before Christmas. More hungry days ahead.

Although I always say Mea Culpa, I always blame Pat and sometimes God for my present situation. Cal said when she saw me last Friday, tears came to her eyes, because I looked so meager and extremely aged. This is from eating only one $100 raisin bread each day. That’s like eating two thick or three thin slices of bread per day.

Anyway I encountered by chance this excerpt from a novel A Little High by Paige Dearth:

“Because the devil entices us to be with him. We learn from when we’re young it’s so much easier to hate than it is to love. We’re taught to look out for ourselves and so we have a lot of negative thoughts that center around jealousy and anger against other people. If we give in to that way of thinking, we become the people that do the hurtin’ to others and being hateful becomes a source of power.”

It spoke to me. I decided to stop blaming Pat for my current circumstances. Mea Culpa. And I hope things change for the better for me next year.

Pray for me. If God will hear.

I have a long wait til payday, with no food and six hundred dollars.

I’m just remembering barely a song I wrote about 40 years ago with a chorus that said something like:

I’ve got 6 dollars in my pocket

29 in the bank

1 torn jeans and a tattered jacket

And the shirt on my back.

Right now I actually have $600 in my wallet and 53 in the bank, but that was over 40 years ago, and I was still living with my late parents and in a better paying job, if inflation is factored in. I could afford an airline ticket then (1984) because shortly after that, with my mother’s encouragement and my father’s discouragement, I left my job and went to live in New York for 6 months. My mother was worried about her piano, which she thought I was playing too hard, especially the more miserable I got.

”

Tuesday December 9, 2025

Dying of sleep. Hope I’m just not “dying”. Hungry.

Praying to God, in vain, it seems, for some money or food, most likely in vain, in the name of Jesus.

Am in serious pain.

Just message Chev to see if she had 2000 can lend me.

Waiting.

And sleeping.

Lunchtime 

Chev responded. Not possible. Dry as well.

Back to sleep. 

Can forget about God. No help coming from Him.

12:55Pm

Alarm

Awake again. #thanksb2God 

Otherwise nothing else has changed.

Still have no food or money.

As expected.

2 sides, same coin: God and the Devil

Haven’t eaten since yesterday and I only had a small raisin bread.

Can barely get out of bed because of the pain.

Thursday December 4, 2025

Such a letdown

Today is

God is

And that means

It will be the same tomorrow

But most likely

Worse

Makes one wonder if he

Even exists.

Even though I’m hungry right now

I did not really starve today

But I’d really like to eat a proper meal.

I’m trying to prepare myself mentally

For going three or four days

Without food

That’s if

If God doesn’t exist

Or if he even cares 

9:36PM

I blame Pat

Wednesday December 3, 2025, 9:37PM

Because of this dark-night-of-the-soul desertion by God, I’m skirting with and courting Agnosticism, thinking of myself as an Agnostic Anglican. But Im not alone in that arena I realized after browsing the net. But then am I still even an Anglican? I have always thought it was the most doctrinally sound Christian denomination in the world, but I read somewhere today that that is a bigoted point-of-view, but not, because I don’t believe like some religious bigots I know and have met, that only members of their church can be righteous or go to heaven. I believe even people who are not Christians can go to heaven, if it exists. I believe the only determinator for getting into Heaven is God and his grace and not some action or belief we do, nor some religious belief we hold on to, like speaking in a language you yourself don’t even understand or worshipping on a particular day etc., etc. I have my own beliefs of course, though it is only one belief. From my reading of thr Bible, especially the New Testament and more specifically the words of Jesus, the only thing I believe in is Love. I really believe God is Love which would slso mean that aversely, Love is God. And I think all God wants us to do is love one another. Regarding righteousness, I think the Jews understand that more than other religious people, though they sometiimes miss the mark too. But read the Old Testament and you will see that Righteousness is imputed by God. A lot of people have created their own religion, their own denomination and their own God and their own Jesus too (with long straight hair, lily-white skin and  green eyes - I hear - a Caucasian living in the middle-east. Really? God has a long time ago forgiven them. And you too Mr. Da Vinci, even though you knew better.

 So I rambled and strayed a bit. I have rarely been to church since Covid, and maybe only funerals  and to my surprise there was no wine with the communion, only bread. Out of fear, the Anglican Church in the Province of the West Indies had become agnostic. I’m really just feigning surprise. It has been agnostic, without bearing the label, ftom well before Covid and probably long before I discovered they were, which was 2008. I settled into a church eventually that seemed to hold on to original Anglican doctrines (St. Margaret’s in Liguanea) and also the St. Andrew Parish Church which was most definitely a High Church, so I as a Broad Church Anglican had to utilize the tolerance that Anglicanism (especially the broad church) is known for, because I was, and still a little bit am, slightly anti-Roman Catholic. I mean Church of England  Archbishop Thomas Cranmer labeled the Pope as the Anti-Christ just before the Roman Catholics burnt him at the stake. I have never forgotten that but I’ve been learning to forgive over the years. However, when I started accompanying Pat to her SDA church, I saw, met and heard prople who really hated the Roman Catholic church, and with such passion - that is passionate hatred - that it was spiritually and physically sickening to me, and I’m not a Roman Catholic. Living in Pat’s house for these 6 years and constantly overhearing tthose sermons turned me completely off all churches and preachers, regardless of their denomination and I never went back to any church after Covid, except maybe the St. Mary Parish Church, which is a special Anglican church and maybe that Methodist Church in Ocho Rios. You can look it up but all the early founders of the Methodist church, inclufing the Wesley brothers and Whitehead, died as Church of England priests. The Methodist Church is a religious monster that grew so out of proportion, its creators lost control of it. A kind of religious Frankenstein, if you would have it. But its not a bad church to attend. But they are really just warped Anglicans at heart.

Anyway all that said, I’m not really feeling pleased with how I’ve been treated by God so I may be drifting. Gradually. To agnosticism first. If God doesn’t grant me a financial miracle by tomorow without me begging for loans.

Two Sides of the Same Coin: God and the Devil. That’s the title of something I’m going to work on, but I don’t know what it is yet. Maybe it will just remain a title.

Wednesday December 3, 2025

Had said to myself over the weekend that December would be a better month. But I was wrong. Still getting a beating from God and the Universe or whoever or whatever. Yet I’m still thanking God. I only have a few coins to my name until I get paid again, which is most likely in 2 weeks time, but I found three slices of bread in the fridge, which I just ate, so thanks be to God. #thanksb2God. And also for this mini-fridge I also got last week, which I gave God a myriad of thanks for, though it wasn’t free. I paid $25000 plus delivery costs for it, but I think that was a reasonable price (from JADEALS) but others disagree. I planned to buy a microwave and a hotplate later in the week but the funds got used up.

Monday I transferred my last $20,000 from my Credit Union (CW&J) account to my National Commercial Bank (NCB) but it appears to have disappeared mid-transfer, for it should have reached yesterday afternoon but my bankcard declined at the supermarket this morning and when I checked the ATM it said the same thing. Tried to get to work before that, and could not get a JUTC bus so could not. Three passed me but they were all not working. But I don’t think they are on strike.

I am so depressed, I messaged Cal and explained to her that I was not mentally, emotionally and physically up to work today, so she gave me a PTO (paid time off) day.

Chev just called so I’ll try again at the ATM. She is a goodluck girl. I called Credit Union to see if I transferred it to the correct account (for I still had Tresh’s info in my account at the time, but it sounded to me like people were taking the call and putting it on hold. Finally the automated vouce told me I was being transferred to a rep, who immediately hung up the phone and disconnected the call.

An elderly man (like myself) passed me at the bus stop today and I wish him a good morning. He was drinking a boxed juice. He walked a few yards (or metres if you wish) then turned back and began to tell me his plight. I realized the I had seen him a few times before and even spoke to him that time. I was at the ATM (the same one I checked today) and he told me hadn’t eaten for two days and if I could help. I told him then that (and I have real issue where I give people too much info) that I had not eaten from the day before, which was the truth and that I was just checking if some money I transferred had reached so I could buy some food. He replied that he was not fasting. I told him I was not fasting either. The expected money was not in my account that day either.

This morning,he took of his cap and pre-empted his story with a statement explaining that he was not begging me but he was hungry because he hadn’t eaten for 2 days. He introduced himself as Clayton, 75 years old on September 12th past (approximately 10 years older than me, my 66th birthday being next month). He said the juice he was drinking was from a lady who heard his story and said all she had was a frozen hslf-juice in her fridge. He gave me a Fagin smile (Oliver! the movie) and said he was just walking and swilling it around as it melted. He said it was embarrassing having to be begging people but that he was homeless (he was dressed in clean clothes though - not to judge). I empathized and told him I had an idea how it feels, for I always feel embarrassed when I have to go to the corner shop in my area to ask if I can ‘run a bill’, which I had to do twice this last week, just paying them on Monday. I’m just remembering now that the Credit Union’s system was down Monday, but I made the transferred after it returned to normal. He said his last residence had burnt down. He really said 'they’ burned down the house. He said it was maybe God but that he wasn’t actually say it was God, that told him to turn back and seek my help. It could have been his own heart and not God, he also said. I told him I told him I only had a $160 which I may need for busfare and we chat for a short while about God, which I’m programmed to do, once someone mentions key words, like God, Jesus, Church, Christianity, for example. We spoke about God and time and always coming through and we wished each other well and he went on his way. I eventually went to the NCB ATM machine but it was being loaded at the time, by that armoured car company that had their personnel and vans shot up and robbed every month over a few months period. Scotiabank ATM had a long line as I was expecting based on NCB’s not functioning, so I went straight to the supermarket and the rest is history. I saw Mr. Clayton on my journey from the supermarket back to the NCB ATM, (Scotia’s was mow being serviced by the same badlucked armour truck company at that time). “Mr. FLOW” Mr. Clayton called to me (The telecommunication company I worked for - I was wearing my orange-colored uniform shirt).

Frustrated and depressed, I saw a lady with a disabled arm and leg it seemed approaching me and drifting over the side of the narrow walkway through the park that we were walking on. I decided I wouldn’t shift to the other side. She greeted me as we neared each other then stopped me to ask if I coild help her out with some money, which I explained that I could not. I had already planned to buy even a raisin bread or a small bottle of water with the money I had. I made the right decision shortly after and bought a bottle of water. I hadn’t remember I had the three slices of bread at home.

December 2025 Priorities (starting as soon as I get paid in November)

Monday November 17, 2025

I’m counting down the days unti I get paid and until I get to Ocho Rios. The latest I can possibbly get paid is Tuesday 25th, and it should really hit my account on the 24th, but Im praying for Friday this week or before, by some miracle of God. #thanksb2God. I’m really excited about being in Ochi again, as I always say, “it’s always better in Ocho Rios.”.

Sunday November 16, 2025

I find myself with $1100 when I thought I had 2100, and I most likely won’t get paid this week, although I’d like that. It will most likely be next week Monday or Tuesday. 1100 won’t cut it until then, neither would have 2100. I have to just have faith in God. Things always work out.

Since I moved from Pat’s, I haven’t been able to go to Ocho Rios, so she’s getting her wish, because that’s the reason, without spelling it out, that she asked me to leave. She either didn’t think I should be enjoying myself or she seriously believed I had some romantic interest in Ocho Rios, which was fuelled by at least one other person, in my presence, telling her that. When she couldn’t hold it any longer, she did ask me if it was Ann-Marie, a former Ocho Rios romantic interest that I was going down there to look for, but I explained to her in detail why I wouldn’t want to see Ann-Marie. In fact, Ann-Marie is blocked in my phone, as Pat now is.

I think the way to break this curse, is to make up my mind and go to Ocho Rios no matter what. Whenever I get paid, the next weekend I am going to be down there and I’ll get a haircut from my usual barber (my hair hasn’t been cut since May, but I’m now thinking I may have passed through Ocho Rios when i was making my new appointment in Annotto Bay and maybe got a haircut). I’m also going to go to Coolmarket and pay for that mini fridge and also possible a microwave as well as delivery. And also a single burner hotplate. Those are my priorities after I get paid. As well a bedspread or two. I’m also going to spend 3600 on 24 (quck-return investment, which some call gambling numbers) and this time, once my return is more than the 3600 I invested I will keep re-investing until I lose.

I’m also going to spend 5000 at the bar after I get paid as well, but before that, pay Halli, Tresh and Chev what I owe them. I won’t buy any groceries until i get my appliances. Also i want to take out a fixed account at Credit Union, starting with 25000 and doubling it to 50000 next year (or 60000). I want to also open a JMMB account and send about half of my salary there. And I want a bank card for my CU account although I know how dangerous that is for me, lacking in financial discipline.

These are my plans to survive next year and break the curse this month. Let this not be a case of man appoints and God disappoints or as we say here: Man a plan and God a wipe.

#thanxB2God #thanksb2God

4:08PM

I’ve always believed and encouraged others that “things always work out,” so I believe, right now in my life, things will get better soon. Even tomorrow. As there is a God.

Sunday November 9 2025 11:37PM

Some past posts from October 1-5 that weren’t posted:

1st: Lord, I’m overwhelmed. Both at work and at home. Especially financially. All my plans down the drain. Including medical appointments. Mea culpa, I say, but Pat is really to blame. Lord, I’m overwhelmed. Need help. Even $20,000 will help. Lord, like others, I’m overwhelmed. Help

4:52AM

2nd: With the approximately $10000 return of my short-term investment of $3600 from 2 days ago, I was able to get a few things on my October supermarket shopping list. I felt like I did everything right today though some didn’t work out right. But thanks be to God for today’s blessings. I paid my $55000 monthly rent today and my $1500 portion of the shared water bill. I have drinking water to last me well through the night and even a little food. I finished 42mins past the end of the shift but made my target. Things didn’t work out perfectly, but satisfactory enough for me. More than enough to give God thanks for. #thanksb2God #thanxb2God

8:10PM

4th: This personal relationship with Jesus, who I believe to be God as well as the Son of God, feels like a love-hate relationship. I’m teased with a few blessings for a day or two, then deserted for weeks. Yet I’m not ungrateful and very thankful for the small blessings, which indeed may be big blessings, like waking up every morning. But I don’t like going through these Dark Nights of the Soul, and I've  been through many and for extended periods and for what and for why? Only God knows.

     Another tenant joked with me today. Said I was locked up all morning when she needed help with her washing. We never had any conversation like that before. A man in the house answered thinking she had said something to him. She dryly said to him “Not you.” Is that her man? I hear them duscussing the african shows they watch on their big screen tv and sometimes discussing religion. It  must be obvious to everyone I’m single and alone. But also old. And that I hardly wash clothes. I have no washing machine, big or small screen tv, no fridge, stove, microwave. These are the things and situations that make some people decide to end it all. But I’m just giving thanks. I don’t blame God or Jesus, snd though I shouldn’t, I still blame Pat. But when all us said and done, mea culpa!

      The tenant has an adult or adultish son, I think so she is not so young, and not bad looking and thick nice mature legs. Her comments were surely suggetive and tease talk.

   From earth up to heaven: Tease.

I’m feeling disappointed. Overwhelmed, I am. Still.

[Blood] Pressure’s still fluctuating badly.

4:26PM

5th: The struggle continues, as Machel used to say. And the struggle is real, as we in Jamaica like to say. I think my life, journey and destiny is still somewhat shaped by my earlier and younger concepts of christianity. The big one is the - probably misconcieved- concept of living one day at a time “taking no thought for the morrow.” I have survived til today believing that but have had some rough days, weeks, months and even years in my life - and some good and even great ones, #thanxb2God - because of it. Secondly, that we can’t second-guess or predetermine when or how God is going to bless us, nor from which source or which direction. I’ve lived that game for years and would like to just once - well not just once because it has happened but rarely I recall - in my life, I want to say God let someone call or message me to say that they can provide me with $20000 today, and it happens.

12:18PM

“A luta continua” -Samora Machel (FRELIMO). The struggle continues

I’m looking at this blog some 8 years (2025) and it’s strange to me that there’s hardly anything here, because 2017 was absolutely one of best years of my life.

“God is not human, which explains, why he seems always inhumane.”

-Waiting, Waiting, Waiting In Vain.

Sunday November 9 2025

I’ve ɓeen having things very difficult the last few days and not only the last few days but the last few months starting with July. I feel overwhelmed sometimes and many times as if God has deserted me, but I still try to remain faithful and believing, not doubting, and giving thanks even for the small things. Small things are really big things when nothing at all is happening or going right, with plans failing and never working out. Friday was a terribly bad day, so bad, I was sure Saturday would have been a good day, and it would have been if I had made the effort and not procrastinated. Without going into details, I could have been out of my current difficulties and people who know me and know my usual routine were shocked that I missed that opportunity. It’s embarrassing when more than just the silent universe knows your failures. I tried later, hopefully but once again disappointed in he long run. It’s the early bird that catches the worm. The late one doesn’t even get leftovers.

The bad luck or non-blessing - whatever you want to call it - carries on today. I am eating the usual raisin bread and a slice of cheese for my Sunday dinner and my one meal of the day. Plus some water. The solution - well, my solution - to hunger and empty pockets, is to eat little food and drink lots of water. It doesn’t stop my ungrateful belly from grumbling for more, but I usually don’t feel as hungry as before.

Mea culpa!

I always say. It’s my fault. But for my current situation, I will always blame Pat. She basically evicted me for no good reason: because she thought I was enjoying myself too much on my monthly weekend trips to Ocho Rios, my favorite place in Jamaica. She was in Kingston and really didn’t know if I was enjoying myself too much or when I frantically ran out of money and my fare to Kingston and ended up doing minimal eating for a day, like I do many days now. Almost everyone else says, and I am reluctantly forced to agree, that she asked me to leave because I was neither giving her affection nor much attention. And for that I am guilty. Mea culpa.

We had a briefly affectionate past before she took me in and then none after.

I went from paying JA$22000 monthly to now paying JA$55000 monthly as rent at my new location. My first months rent in June plus the deposit and the so-called ‘contribution’ (she refused to give me a receipt at any time) cost me 55000+55000+22000=JA$132000 and I am an average working class Joe. I have been in serious debt ever since. Friends and colleagues have had to rally round to help, because I didn’t even have a bed to sleep on

So, as I called Pat’s name, I have to say thanks to Jodi, Halli, Shaki, Cal, Dam, Tresh and Chev, among others.

And, of course, God.

“Though he slay me, yet will I trust in him: but I will maintain mine own ways before him.” -Job 13:15 (KJV)