Monday, August 10, 2009


Dear Blog,
I don't remember much of my past. Rarely a tidbit from the time I was a tiny tot until I reached those strange years of puberty. But I'd like know more about those unsettled times. I'm intrigued by childhood stories of others as I listen to them carefully at BBQ, cocktail parties and artists' receptions.
A former shrink once told me something exceedingly traumatic occurred during that decade. So, I thought that's why she charges $250 an hour to tell me something Sherlock Holmes could have deduced after the word "puberty." She's still shrinking other super-egos and ids. Hm.
Lately I think so hard about prying open the past it hurts. But I feel thinking about it might help me discover why and who I am today.
Once in while strange Salvador Dali-like images spur bizarre memories which appear in the form of dreams like the one above. So I don't know if those horrific moments or strangely scripted times truly occurred in the past or are merely figments of my imagination that lie in the depths of my odd dreams. Either case, they're uncomfortably interesting and strangly exciting. I'll use them as material for my new book or admittance to a good hospital if I can grab that pencil and paper at 3:12 in the morning and quickly write it down before it vanishes like my past.

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