-where do you think your going?-

There are simple things in life that you forget to remember. Like how your infants toes feel like pearls when you ran your finger over them. And how that feeling only last for just so long and then the tiny pearls become actual toes. Then the tiny toes become a person.

I remember the day I left NY. There was a billboard that was black with white lowercase letters. it said "-where do you think your going?-god" And though I don’t practice religion I do believe in a God or a Higher being. I answered that question for the last 7 years. My purgatory? My first response was:

"To get my life back together." and by the time I reached Georgia my answer was "To learn how to forgive." and if I were to say today it would be "To be a better person." or "To expose the people that did this to me"

I read a quote and I believe it was from Kathern Hepburn, "You are not a good writer until you start to remember." and I also believe I have started to remember my life.

I say that based on something "Hoot" posted. His comment was "I uselessly died. " I died the day I left NY. I have died everyday sense I left NY. The same kind of death as my "internal spontaneous combustion" the day we left California. Nobody wants me.

I have always said if I had the monetary means, I’d move back to California. But now, the state I’ve managed to let myself become, I don’t think California would want me.

I think it is time to stop the daily death and become one with myself again. I am so broken. I am so unsatisfied. The perverable "Hollow Tree". I fear I am "Beyond Repair". I don’t know how to get back to the place where "Something went wrong" and I don’t know where to start. But I do know that when I find my "Shattered Parallel" I will know it.

For the record I do not suffer from Bi-polar. I suffer from a disease much much much worse. A disease that is suppose to be temporary. In 1997 my mind Imploded upon itself. I pick through the left over fractions on a daily basis. Trying to put them back together like a puzzle. I won’t say I was catatonic. But I did co-exist in a world that people, living breathing people, inhabit.

The day in 1997 when I saw the billboard, I made a vow. I was never going to make a new friend, I was never going to date again; and it almost worked. I let a few people in over the years. Everyone I let in disappointed me. Real people are unstable. Real people are like rabid raccoons. They are horrible. They are awful. They pray upon what little existence of life that you offer and then they leave.

I can’t remember the name of my disease. I think they called it Post Tramatic Stress Syndrome, but I choose to ignore the doctor and laugh him off as insane. It has to do with suffering an extreme situation and living through it but being "haunted" by it. Where you all but completely shut down. Catatonic is a part of it, depression can be a factor of it.

I don’t want to be a victim any more. I will write "The Hollow Tree" and get it published. I will shame the family that shunned me because my mother felt that she was to young to be a grandmother. I will place the given blame on Brian. What is due to him, no more, no less. There will be no innocent victims in my story.

So, prepare yourselves. My purgatory is over and the my day of reckoning is now upon us.

god wanted to know where I was going. Well I can’t say hell, I’ve already been there. I can’t say heaven, because I am done dying every night and living in my dream. I can say this. I am going home. And home may not like it. I hold my fist full of hate and anger and vengeance. Mother be prepared. Your about to be exposed. You are the nasty snay. Your the cunt. The fork tonged wench. Your words. Hold them dear, they are about to come back and bite you in the ass.