Sounds

Hey there, readers.
Got some bad news the other day. Hector, at whose house I'm living asked me to leave at the end of next week. Poor guy, he had difficulties tellin' me, but I understand. Here's a guy who has been givin' me a place to stay for a couple of weeks, me knowing all the time that it wasn't anything permanent. I told him I totally understand. I mean, there are other people who deserve the same thing that has been bestowed upon me by that beautiful guy Hector and his sweet wife.
I told Agnes but she wasn't very enthusiastic in joinin' me on my quest for a new place to stay. I kinda feel like a knight from some damn medieval time on a holy quest for a bed or something. I'll manage, I always do (big words from a soon-to-be-totally-homeless guy, huh?).
Hector did tell me I can always drop by for a quick cut-and-dry session at the barbershop. Man, if I am suppose to be a knight in this scenario, he's the fuckin' saint I should worship. Hector with his happysad eyes and elephantskin hands. Gonna miss seeing that guy ev'ry day.

Tried sleeping at the shelter last night. Ya know, better get used to something else and all, but damn, I could not get some shuteye the entire night. Let me paint the picture for ya: you lie in this kinda stinkin' bed in a room occupied by round and about eight other guys. Next to 'your room' is another one and next to that many others.
There are sounds all night long.
Ya hear people mumbling, singing, crying, praying, moaning, farting, chuckling, hissing, turning, shouting. I mean Lionel Richie style: All Night Long.

Now let me tell ya something and you'll probably think of me as some kind of nut (if ya didn't allready). It's like hearing little bits and pieces of your own life in those sounds. Like you doze off into that welcome state of sleep and all of a sudden ya hear a name among the sounds that is familair. So sleep moves out of the way and you do your damn best to make out what's bein' said by the others. But when your concentrating on that, ya hear nothing, just a lot of rubbish and bullshit and all. Then you doze back to sleep and, again, ya hear a familair part of a sentence or another name and that pulls ya back into consciousness. Let me give ya an example. Last night, I was almost asleep when I hear (or thought I heard) this guy saying 'Helen Wiesel'. After that I'm all awake because Helen Wiesel is my mother's maidenname. I'm listening and listening really hard but: that's it. End of story. Here I go again, back to sleep and suddenly I hear someone moaning and saying 'Dobbie'. Dobbie was my childhood petdog.
Ya kinda catch what I'm sayin' here? I know it sounds cuckoo, but hey, it is what it is.
Shelters freak me out. Talk to ya later, John.