Monday, October 14, 2019

Memory Quest: Episode 2

I can't give you exact proportions, but most of it, a good lot of it at least, isn't true. Your identity wobbles about based on fact and what are incomplete truths as reported by those who look to discern. People can be wrong. That's one of the best qualities I think they possess. Who cares when they're getting it right? When they're getting it wrong, that's where the story takes place. That's what matters.

I'm looking to adopt a herd of grounding behaviors, but probably I'll just think about being grounded. I'll limit my cigarette usage, but without the intention of quitting. I will make breakfast and dinner for my youngest son. He is now the age I was when my parents divorced. I am the age my father was when my mother had him evicted. This is usually where I float through a gray layer of fog/smoke and I can make up anything I want to fill the painful holes, but I'm not grounded enough to look at that layer of my life yet.

I sometimes tell stories that require laughter, the dark flavor, during the delivery. I have to laugh at the absurdity, or the narrative is black and distasteful. 

I catch scents. I lose my mind.

My mother is dead to me. My mother is dead to me. A mother is a fleeting wish and for me that wish is gone.

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