Reading Lolita in Recovery.

21 January, 2015, London. As a writer, artist, historian and adoptee, the onus is on me to venture into forbidden territory to weed out the truth behind the status quo. As an adoptee, I am particularly prone to be like a Steppenwolf, part of, but at odds with society; inclined to observe the world as…

Funny, turns out I was a ‘Premium’ adoptee in the late ’50s.

I’ve just recently learned I was considered a ‘premium’ adoptee, a.k.a., white, healthy, in 1959. I was placed with a loving family and had a nice childhood. So, what’s my problem? Should be grateful just to be alive, right? Even though that family disintegrated, I am. Whether by nature or nurture, I came to question…

Down 4 the Count. My Panacea.

Toronto, Winter, 2012. In utter desperation, I answered an ad on Craigslist – 2 or 3 days, a 4 hour/day commute, back-breaking grunt work, BUT cash at the end of the day. No paperwork, just cash. Sweet! Many of the jobs I held back in the late 70s-early 80s — toiling as a construction labourer…

Reading ‘Flat Broke in the Free Market’, by Jon Jeter, 2009

“The new world economy does not need the strong backs of men, it does however, need the comfort of (prostitutes). Flat Broke in the Free Market: How Globalization Fleeced Working People, Jon Jeter, p. 44 Outrage. Depressing. Inspiring. Page after page of hard to swallow reality. A reality that I am now in … this…

Down into the Ghost Kingdom.

“The story of adoption is a ghost story * I am one of those ghosts. I am an adoptee. I am M. I have a name, but it’s not mine. I’ve studied history, but I don’t know my own. I exist, but I don’t belong. I am a Steppenwolf. I exist with my brotherhood in…

3 dogs and a Ninja kitty: Final days on the Island of Lost Souls

London, July-September, 2015. Roommates, like family, you can’t always pick them. In what would be my last months on the Island of Lost Souls, I rented a room in a rundown house in one of the many the low, low class areas of London. This spot had three Springer Spaniels jumping all around a small…

Communication on the Island of Lost Souls

The following is a poignant passage that reflects what I went through, and continue to, with respect to communicating with the boys, during the dark days of exile, isolation, and purification. Like the citizens of Oran, I was expelled and isolated in an attempt to purify and punish. At the outset of Part 2 of…

What the Quacks say about Adoptees

Above all, there simply must be a label! Adopted child syndrome is a controversial term that has been used to explain behaviors in adopted children that are claimed to be related to their adoptive status. Specifically, these include problems in bonding, attachment disorders, lying, stealing, defiance of authority, and acts of violence. In The Psychology…

I am what I am … I am M.

“But now, only one thing remains …. The brute will to survive! ¹ “The story of adoption is a ghost story, full of fantasy, mystery, and missing persons, who … are “as if” dead, unlike respectable ghosts, who are … dead. ² I am one of those ghosts. I am M. I am an adoptee….

Exiled to the Island of Lost Souls

London, July-August, 2014. After being cast out, I awoke two weeks later to find myself planted in a chair at a Starbucks on the Island of Lost Souls. Physically, I’m sure I was there, but my mind was hundreds of miles away. They say it takes one to know one. That could explain why I…

Legless

London, July 2015. Among the things that signaled to me that I was beginning to recover my soul was when one scorching hot afternoon in London, while waiting at a bus stop at Oxford and Richmond, an attractive, petite, slender Asian girl in short shorts suddenly collapsed to the ground. I was right beside her…

The Hat. I’m back!

22 September, 2015, Toronto. I bought a hat. It was only $4. I finally felt okay with it. I’ve always loved hats. I’ve had top hats, cowboy hats, baseball caps, straw hats, in fact I recall as a toddler running around the front yard wearing nothing but a hat and a smile. It’s not an…