It's Funny. Life. Thirty Years. All This Experience. To Get To : Here.

It makes sense. Every lesson. Every Decision.
Every Action.

I've lived. I've known a lot of people that have not. Many that have killed them selves, in one way or the other.

I value life. I all ways have. I struggled, from the beginning, to survive it.

It's Insulting. People. What They Think. How They Judge. But, I know, I Know Why.
I was around for all of it.

I began studying Psychology when I was a child. Reading. Reading was all ways my escape.

Before Writing.

I read better than most people. Great novels in literature that most have yet to thumb through.

And,
I was ten.

Eight.
Seven.

I wanted to understand people. I had met so many! Between my mother and my step father and my grand parents and all the people they knew ~ there were all ways people.

I was quiet. Perceptive. A wonderful listener and observer. It was unquestionable that Psychology was in my future.

Text Books. Libraries. I was addicted. There was no internet. No computer. I had to sneak to use the phone. But, encyclopedias... I was all ways friends with those.

I absorbed knowledge. I wanted to understand how, and why, people did all the fucked up things I saw them do. Drugs. A lot of drugs. It took me years before I was ever brave enough to test you.

I watched the down fall. The way people just gave up on each other. The way they gave up on their self. How they'd rather just sit there, saying negative things, rather than do something positive and pattern-changing. It was easy. To stay the same. And, it was nurtured, through the use of television.

I stood back. Cautious.

Food.
We have all ways had an interesting relationship. There were years where we were starving. My Sister. My Lovely Little Sister. I'd find her crouched under the table, like a mouse, with a stick of butter. Eating It. Whole. Bite By Bite, because she was starving. I saw the lack of food in our fridge and cupboards. That was before there were food stamps and before I started making money and shopping.

There were these neighbors. They were fat. Very Very Fat. They actually were quite far down the street. Where the run down places actually became houses. They had kids. A lot of them. And, the house was a mess. Mess is an understatement. It Was Atrocious. Now, there are shows. Television Shows. "Hoarders." They would've been : Hoarders. Clothes. Dirty Clothes. Every Where. Mountains. Bigger than I. We'd go there. My siblings and I. I'd Clean. I started to cook. Very Very Slowly. It was the only place we ate. That, and, GrandMa's...

Six.
I was Six.

We lived in Sonoma.