62.

I tried very hard to be someone else. I tried to be someone you liked. Or somebody you hated. It had to be strong. I tried too hard to be this person or thing. In the process I forgot who I was (when i began). Did I carry inseide me something that was completely my own no matter how silly or inferior? Did I ever think my own thoughts? Did I ever speak my own words? I think so. Maybe i'm just getting older so it's part of maturing: changing, transforming, forsaking, transmuting. Did I ever dream my own dreams which i wasn't ashamed of painting with crude kids' crayons? I don't even remember if I believed I had a soul. If I did, where is it now? Do I want to see it again? Will it evr emerge for bad or for good? I wait with a net. My hands are empty. My mouth is empty but I do not dare silence. I was always afraid of the dark and slept with a light on. Betwwen waking and dreaming, I escaped. I became something else, not entirely human, more like a machine made of disproportionate parts:depression, addiction, illusion, delusion, disillusion.I just wanted to go out and play under the stars. I still do. I want to lie on the