Immigration is an exciting process, sometimes full of events, sometimes very dead. Immigration, unless you have tons of money (but then you don't immigrate) sucks the life out of you and changes you completely. It's not at all like flying over to a new place with a bigger than usual suitcase.

I spent time in Canada before. At my aunt's place with Aniko and my aunt Klara. For about a year or so. I had everything there but good things don't last forever especially because I had to leave because my tourist visa expired (again) and in order for me to re-enter the country I needed to get an immigration visa. I researched everything and sent in my papers but processing time is loooooong so I had to do somethng in the meantime. I went to school. What a complete waste of time that was. At Graf-Get. Grrrrr.

Anyhow, I got my visa then came to Toronto to live with my brother and his wife. They live in Scarborough.
I spent a year and a half in their basement and it changed they way I sit down to eat, the way I look at phone calls, bathrooms, music, letters, the internet, friends, money, work, family and just about everything else in life.

I can't think of anything good about living there.
John had some work for me but not all the time and I went weeks without any work. Then at other times we worked 14 hours a day for days. I managed to open up a bank account and even got a credit card - because I needed that to rent a car. I just wanted to do something. Anything. So I rented a car and drove around. I took a driving course, got my G2. Went to George Brown and took a course that preps foreign ppl for Canadian college. Applied to George Brown to be a programmed then later withdrew my application. Many had warned me that programming is not the best job in the world.
I started smoking. Just because I had nothing to do. I smoked Benson and Hedges for a long time then DuMarier.
Often times there was nothing to do, nothing at all so I went for long walks to the beach where I was alone and smoked and listened to music. Then I went "home" and wrote a letter to my ex. Then I called some friends back home. Not from the home phone of course because I couldn't use that. Sunja (my brother's wife) used it all the time plus we couldn't agree on anything anyways, let alone the phone usage. So I called from public booths all the time from the street or shopping malls.
Occasionally hang out with my cousin Aron or Little John, JB's son, and it felt like such a special time, yet I was nothing more than a poor guy who was tolerated in their company - but I just felt happy being somewhere other than in my basement room.
I damn near set the whole house on fire by accident one time which made things even worse. I was told to find a place quickly. I couldn't afford a place.

Alone, alone, alone in a dark, small room with no furniture except for a small bed, nobody calls, nobody cares, nobody calls, noone to call, noone to care for, no work, no money, cigarettes, letters, long walks. I was slowly crushed, bent and I was very very seriously thinking about moving back because despite all my efforts, I couldn't see where I was heading.

Then I met Ewelina, online, and things got better. A lot better.

In a few months time we moved together into an apartment at 135 Rose Avenue in Toronto by Bloor and Parliament. She was from Brampton.

I was still only a landed immigrant and I was 3 years from then to get my citizenship papers but the hardest part was over.

Although I know life is a lot worse for many, I wish noone has to go through what I went through for that 1.5 years.

Now it's 2007 when I'm writing this and by now I've caught up to life. I have long term plans. I am no longer crushed and helpless. I am proud and thankful.

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Life Sentence,
No Parole

Murderers and rapists get out of jail over time. A chained dog serves a life sentence with no parole only because he is a dog while all he wants is to be with you and give you his unconditional love.

You agree this is wrong, don't you? Then you say "that's too bad", sigh, and move on. Do something about it. Please. Donate to Dogs Deserve Better to help unchain dogs and provide a kind, more loving life for them.

They are unseen. Forgotten. Alone. Forever. On a chain. Dying in the back yard of humans.

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Immigration For Real

2003.January 23 to 2004.August