I spent years in the DTES (downtown eastside) Vancouver. I committed a lot of hate crimes there. Blood Alley was a place I frequented.
Now, at times, I am bothered by the recall of the feel, smells and tastes of blood soaked into my skin and clothes. I am reminded of the sputters and chokes and gags and screams and cries of the abuse I perpetrated. I am reminded of waking up with swollen hands and infected gashes on my knuckles. I am reminded of my fingers sticking together due to the dried syrup blood. I remember the adrenaline hang overs that made me puke…or maybe it was a spiritual rejection of my disgusting behaviour.
…now after years, education, social transformation and a whole lot of healing…I am still haunted by my own deeds and the pain I caused for others, in moments that likely linger for their whole lives…I remember…
I sit here, tonight, feeling and thinking and reflecting. I am celebrating that my blog has surpassed another goal; to surpass my readership record. I am glad that the most popular article on my blog is not a negative controversy; rather it is an inspirational transformation.
I am, however, left with remnants of facts from the past. Hard realities. Here is a sample of what that can look like.