jesse kaellis en Lifestyle, beBee in English, Writers Bally's. Trop, Dunes, Caesars, Sahara. Landmark, Barbary, State Line, on and on. • 21 joints. I counted them again. 26/9/2016 · 3 min de lectura · +300

Shadow world

Plaza 88 @ New Westminster Sky Train Station. 

Shadow world

Shadow world

I'm on the P8 level of the parkade. I'm leaning on the railing looking south over the showroom parking lot; the surface lot. I see cars and the occasional body moving. I risk a look down, and the bottom drops out of my stomach. My pulse quickens. I push back, physically push back and start moving away. 

What happens; happens every time; is that I am afraid that I will get an uncontrollable impulse to leap the railing; that quick; that easy; oblivion, nothingness, over.

I think about death a lot; every hour of every day. But it's not like I'm planning to die. Or want to check out early, although I’ve been there before. I just feel like I'm standing on quicksand. Looking down; I feel the pull. Triple gravity; something outside of my conscious control wants me dead.

I'm working these towers; Plaza 88. Three towers on Carnarvon between 10th and 8th. The third tower incorporates the New West sky train station. The third tower is mine. The three towers are connected by a parkade. This site; everybody hates this site.

It's a lot of walking on cement and pavement. I finished up downtown at the close of the Olympics. I got my economic "benefit." I got laid off and because of the Olympics, there are over two thousand extra security licenses dumped onto the street.

It was touch and go for a few weeks. I didn't want to collect insurance benefits. I go into the office for my R.O.E., and I talk to Peter. "What about Plaza 88? What happened there?" It was my first site with Genesis. "Well, my back..."

But I need the fucking work. Alright; he gives me three ten hour shifts. I'll try. What's pain? The trouble with mind over matter is that it is debilitating after a while. 

The first time I worked these towers was I started on New Year’s Eve 2008; going into 2009. It was snowing hard. I'm offered four twelve’s. A twelve-hour shift at this site is like you can't die, and you can't sleep; like being undead.

My first shift I'm on P8 and I catch a crack head trying to break into a tool closet. The tower was partially occupied and still under construction. He looks like Harpo Marx on crack. He takes off running. I radio the other guy, give a description and, "He is headed down the east stairwell." I call 911. I give a description and my name and birth date.

The police arrive with three units and a K9 patrol. Like this guy tried to steal the Hope diamond or something. They don't catch him. But I know him on sight from around there. I will see him again and I do. At Columbia Square across the street. I'm in uniform. The Square was my new site. 

"Don't break i