Category Archives: belief

That I Am

For years, I asked the question, “Who am I?” For years, I got arbitrary, dissatisfying answers. Where do they come from, these answers? They come from a mind that thinks who has meaning, as if who were real.

Who gets caught in the illusion of a name, as if “David” were something attached to me like an arm or a leg. But it isn’t. It’s just a puff of air, or a word in print. “Oh, you look like a David,” someone says. What if the people I thought were my parents had looked at me and said, “Radish?”

I am not David. Continue reading

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Wrong Side Up From the Start

You may believe what you are about to read or you may think that I simply need medication. I’m not writing this to convince anyone either way. This is simply my life as I remember it. Whether you believe this is true or not, it has shaped who I am today and continues to drive the way I think and act in the world. My only hope is that you keep an open mind when reading about my journey beyond the “Twilight Zone.” Continue reading

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How I learned to Embrace Insanity and Become a Real Writer – or – Down the Rabbit Hole

It didn’t take long to discover that a writer and a schizophrenic have much in common. The characters become very real and write their own story. Often, if I plot out the next chapter or storyline, the characters have something else in mind and take the book in new directions.

At first, I thought I might be a sandwich short of a picnic, but when I talked with other writers, they were just as delightfully screwy. So, creative writing, it seems, requires a trip down the rabbit hole. Continue reading

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How I learned to Trick my Brain and Believe

We may think that we think what we think. But what we don’t know is that we are what we think. And what we think is not what we think we are thinking. My life has been so busy lately, … Continue reading

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Before Biker Babe there was Hippie Dippie Hope

One day, I just decided enough was enough. The world was passing me by. Shortly after watching the first moon landing on Rick’s aunt’s flickery black and white TV, I made a vow to myself. “I gotta get outta here and into the action.” It was a time of war protests, riots in Berkeley, the People demanding to be Heard!

I bought a bus ticket to Frisco, and was on my way. To where? I didn’t know or care. Something would turn up. It did. When I got off of the bus station, a sylph-like young woman with frizzy blond hair and gauzy, gypsy-esque clothing, handed me a flower and said, “Peace and Love.” I was supposed to then give her money, but instead, I said, “Want to join the cause. Who can I talk to about that?” Continue reading

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White Food and Hippocrates

As many of you know, my stubborn, sometimes mean as a junkyard dog mother has moderate Alzheimer’s. After a serious fall in the summer that made our lives a living Hell because she refused to believe that her alter ego was NOT in fact, Wonder Woman. Continue reading

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Woman RANT!

The exception I guess is grossly over-inflated boobs, but that can also go back to childhood. A mother’s breast looks mighty large to a baby. Sorry, that may have conjured up a picture of something you CAN’T UNSEE! EEEWWW, giant mammaries! Freud had a lot to say about that one. So the desire for women to look like children except for the breasts, in my never to be humble opinion, is more than a bit twisted. Continue reading

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