Continued (a request to anyone who may be reading this: please do not respond. This is meant to be a journal entry):

What a journey this life of mine has been. It is difficult for me to state my age because I can hardly believe that I am this old. WHAT? Me, this old? NO WAY!!!

Why, how did I get to be this old, when I didn’t even get to be YOUNG???

I just arranged to listen to “When I was young”, by Glen Cambell: “Yesterday, when I was young… The thousands dreams I dreamed…

“Yesterday, when I was young, There were so many songs that waited to be sung, So, many wild pleasures lay in store for me… And youth at last ran out”- damn!

“Yesterday when I was young, there were so many songs that waited to be sung… There are so many songs in me that won’t be sung”-

– I am still alive, and I can sing because truly, I am younger now than I ever was since I can remember myself, how crazy: I get to be young when old, a tragedy? A miracle?

Ever since I remember myself, I was depressed and exhausted, a depressed and exhausted teenager- 20s- 30s- 40s- and on.

All my life was not about me, too guilty, too depressed TO LIVE.

I don’t have the words to describe…

Here I am, like a kid in a playground, with other kids, running toward others, toward the experiencing of life, feeling affection, attraction, a wanting, a desiring. LIFE.

My desiring of life knows no boundaries, it wants to explode and take over with no care for societal expectations and ethics… just to live before it all shuts down forevermore.

All my “life” was under a thick, dark cloud (my mother and all that caused her to be that cloud) that kept the sunlight away from me, hidden from me- just from me, so it seemed. It’s mind boggling, really. I see the light now, but what am I to do with it, or about it…?

anita