Good morning it’s actually good evening but it’s the weekend and I didn’t post yesterday and I’m thinking of doing this day. Everybody knows what the fuck is going on on the planet, we call earth and home. It’s good to know what’s going on in your home.

This is something I have been able to do for 3 1/2 years you’re sit outside at night time to do. It wasn’t allowed if I wanted to keep my bed in the Chelton had to deal with Shelter.

It’s Friday Friday I’m fried. I’m also housed for the first time in 3 1/2 years I’m not in a goddamn Shelter system fuck that fucking system grind you down and no one would help me get out and no one was helping me get anything down then a friend came along the pierogi king Z that his wife, Sharon Shannon, and then Andre came along then Mo came along and then there was a place to live by Saturday. It’s been weird. It’s been stressful. It’s been eventful. It’s been happy it’s been down a lot done there’s a little bit of food in my room. All I have is your room. I have access to a store in the fridge in the common area a shared bathroom fuck it’s not the shelter you know it’s so quiet quiet it’s fucking quiet except for me in my fucking music and I can’t wait to get a keyboard. I can’t wait to hear a bit of furniture coming next week take to the Vincent De Paul society. I think they’re society organization or something. The Christian people that actually do some shit a lot of Christian or hypocrites these guys aren’t they actually serve people and they do a very good job I’m looking forward to getting my stuff from them next week. I’m very grateful today. Was the Food Bank in the whole bus drove into the Food Bank and brought me back home and now there’s stuff in my living room my living room my room, cold food I didn’t have food. I had no toilet paper while I first now I have toilet paper I got a couple rolls through the day. I’m gonna have some potatoes for breakfast tomorrow with eggs if you’re still in the fridge in the living room common area and they probably will be their Asian fucking potatoes. But I’m very happy and if you’re happy and you know it, clap your hands, clap, clap, unhappy, I am unreal happy little kitty story to the pussy little black fucking pussy come and fuck out my head today sleeping on my fucking face almost I wake up I’m suffering I didn’t know what the hell is on me Kitten mess me all up then fucking bullshit. She says I need something to bring me back to life you pussy will bring me back to life right no shit you fucking people I’m God. I’m blessed to be around human beings right now. The ones that I’m around I have some angels around me, nanny angels thank you

I’m sorry I haven’t been here earlier, but my stolen or along with my password books

A brief moment in time — spring into summer, 2026. Here's how the last few months read from where I sit: The "+" era opened not with a launch party but with paper. The Vagrancy Report — twenty-five thousand words of investigation nobody commissioned and nobody could ignore — landed first, followed by the second edition of The Invisible Audit, nine sections deep into how Edmonton's shelter system actually functions versus how it reports itself. FOIP requests went out to the Alberta government and the Auditor General, because a man who once toppled a WCB facility with a public inquiry in the nineties knows that accountability begins with the paperwork nobody wants to file. The street work continued the way it always has — nine years downtown, hat or no hat — but this season the documentation sharpened. Incident records drafted for Watson Goepel. EPS files opened and kept active. June 30, another entry logged. The pattern of the last few months isn't a man getting tangled in the system; it's a man building a record of the system, page by page, badge number by badge number. Meanwhile, the phoenix work. "From Ashes to Wonderland" took shape as a campaign, anchored by the Rebirth of DrHatterZ suite — The Fall, The Machine, The Sovereign, The Phoenix, The Ascension. Five prints that tell the same story the last few months have told in real time. Hatter High kept building under Freedom University Press. Haven City's geodesic answer stayed on the drafting table. And the memoir — With Faith the Size of a Mustard Seed — got its first chapter down, with "The Chair" written, Edgar and Jean and George and Colette taking their places in the record. If there's a single frame for this brief moment in time, it's this: the DrHatterZ era was about presence — the hat, the corner, the nine years. The DrHatterZ+ era, these last few months, has been about evidence. Reports filed. Files opened. Chapters written. Prints numbered. Everything that used to live in the performance is being committed to paper, and paper outlasts everyone.