Back a few years ago I overheard a conversation about myself . . . about my childhood . . . I was adopted and before that severely abused. So hearing this for the first time and being 16 at the time . . . well it made me kind of crazy . . . I started doing drugs and lots of other stuff until finally I had a breakthrough I thought for so long that I had to fight everyone to prove that I was actually a person but then I realized that I was riding my own cliche and that if I accept the things that I cannot change, then what others think does not matter. However at the same time I am terrified that I am exactly what I hate so much . . .

Well, this one is not really about what it appears to be about. I had a close friend whose Mother was an alcoholic. And she treated him terribly. He would ask me what he should do for her, but I couldn't tell him . . . I didn't know. Then his mom ended her own life. And as I thought about it, it somehow made sense to me at the time that if I had only helped my friend get her help then she would still be alive. In retrospect I believe that I acted correctly, but I HAD to write about it and this is what came out.