War on Wane

War on Wane

I wrote this when I lived in Vancouver… I had a roommate whose name was Wayne, and who had emptied my fridge from all it’s food, made a whole bunch of long distance calls on MY phone, and to top it off, had made a black mass in his bedroom in my “honor” ... he was surrounded with 12 black candles, and he was mumbling…

When a few minutes later I was to burn some sage (which is a spiritual cleanser in American Native culture and used as a deodorant or incent) he accused me of burning “pot”...
I told him that it was sage from The great north (which is true) and he kept accusing me of burning drugs, but would keep from talking about my food he had eaten and my phone that was now very expensive.

I got mad.

So I grabbed my dictionary (as I was in my 2nd or 3rd year into learning english) and I left for my writer-friend’s place…

When my friend opened the door, he saw that I was mad. -He never had seen me mad before asked me why I looked mad.

So I said to him… “Wayne!!!... I am mad at him! I bet that there are no definitions for such an a**hole in that dictionary…”

So I opened the dictionary randomly, and got on the word “wane” on the page that I opened it to…
So I exclaim… “There IS a definition for him in that dictionary… he is the “decreasing” kind of person… “

“Give me 15 minutes alone, I got to write my anger out…” ...and this is what I wrote.

(I am not sure that the whole is here, for most of my works are packed in boxes at the moment… I used my memory to write it here now.)