June 9, 2004

• Huh?  Sorry, I Was Distracted

  
  

  
  

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  Does the chatter get to you?  A million other things more interesting than this.  Waking dreams that pull you in to a reality suductive warm and sweet.  I was not young enough to be given the drug du jour to make us all keep our eyes focused on the teacher, more of the day dreamer than the hyper-active problem child.  Anyone can keep up in High School, just wake up and connect the dots but the meaning of the subject before you gets lost when you only catch every fifth sentance, if your lucky.  Then the years go by and you realize your memory of people and things are less than perfect, obfuscated by a fuzz of all that goes on between the ear lobes.  You hide behind the generic, "Do you recall?  Me, uh, sure," with no clue you hope to put the pieces together later.  Then the doubt sets in.  Can I ever recall a specific face or time.  Please don't ask!  Now the daily stage fright becomes a working principle; when asked don't answer.  Don't show the world you can't walk down the street and remember a set of directions without looking at them four or five times.  The memory is there, getting to it is a struggle with yourself as much as with the Grey Matter Jockey.  You feel stupid as hell, embarrassed ... deficient.

  
  

  Have I written this before?

  • 11:50 am
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