As I’m struggling to write this memoir (or whatever it is), please bear with me as I write in small increments. I have never been one to write lengthy anything, so it’s challenging for me not to procrastinate, to have a moment to myself, and to find inspiration in the time that I do carve out for writing.
I am hoping one day to assemble some of what I’ve written into a proper book, but in a way that won’t be harmful to any of my family members. It may very well not occur until they have passed, which is hopefully not for a great long while, yet.
Continuing on from my last post, I was talking about names and that I, specifically, don’t have one.
The truth is, I’ve never known my parents I don’t know if I have any siblings, and I’m not even sure if April 1st is my true birthday. As you will see later, not knowing anything about oneself has a distinctly unsettling effect on one’s perception of reality.