Have you ever heard someone say "my earliest memory" or perhaps you read it in a book? A key character, that does not exist, claims to have something that I (a real person?) have never been able to claim? Could it be that none of us truly have an earliest memory? Do you? Does anyone? Anyone and everyone, but me, that is.
See, I have tried countless times to recall my earliest memory. Was it when Danny cut my arm? Or the fuzzy yellow outfit I loved? The anthill? Now, mind you, I see my vast memory as the wall of TV's in the Sears department store. You know the one, with all the different programs going at once? Well, that is how I see my memories in my head; I really can see the events as they happen (or rather, happened). And then I wonder does everyone see his or her memories? Do they see a wall of TVs? Or, is it just I? And, if so, why? Really, why? Why am I the screwed up one? What the hell did I do to deserve this shit? And, if it's the other way around then why hasn't anyone told me that I am normal? It's more than just the memory thing. I ask the very question about everything I do and everything I think. It's so annoying. I am actually getting pissed off at myself as I am typing these very words; I am banging the keys. Neurotic - I have never understood what that meant...until this very moment. Feeling neurotic, I feel it. Shit, the word has a feeling. I must be neurotic. Every thought purges countless thoughts. I can't keep track of them; much less ponder them.
What next? Well then I laugh at myself because I still find the humor in my madness.
Anyway, as I was saying...if I am normal I wish that someone would tell me. But in nearly 34 years, no one has EVER accused me of being normal. So, onto the centerpiece of my life...that creepy, little bastard that sits on left shoulder. I imagine you must be thinking, she's a freakin' nut job! And you would be spot on!
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