Sometimes I just sit and stare at an empty page. Nothing comes so I decide to write about nothing which often turns into something. Let’s see. My life’s journey has been so convoluted that I can’t even put it into chronological order anymore. Sure, I have memories but they’re all tangled up like a ball of yarn subjected to a cat. It’s gotten so bad, I can’t remember if yesterday was really the day before or the day before that. Tossed around in childhood, I turned and became a wanderer. I’ve long since given up on putting it all together. Better a painting by Jack the Dripper than an empty box of crayons. I doubt any historian will ever sort it out so let’s be frank . . . if you want a piece of me, you better get it now.
searching for buried treasure . . .
better ways to lose my mind
have not been found
