#uncoffeed...

I think we're going to win a third season of Netflix's MindHunter . I hope I'm right; I hope enough other people appreciate that not-quite-resolved ending. I don't mean the convenient cliffhanger. I mean the part where our society is mirrored and resolution doesn't mean resolution for everyone.  And that deep-80s soundtrack that hearkens back to my basement days. "I feel Guilt, though I know I done no wrong I feel guilt" - Marianne Faithfull This song sums up my mood at the moment.  Ghostly emotions tend to creep on the weekends. I wonder if this feeling of guilt was instilled in me by Catholicism , or if Catholicism was invented to address it? Does it have anything to do with my absent-while-present father ? Some sin for which I've been forgiven?  That nagging feeling that I've missed something crucial and thus failed in my efforts?  Why doesn't matter. Guilt is a powerful tool that's often used against us. ...

Someone from the periphery of one of my past lives gave me this picture. I have a fleeting recollection of the moment – I think my brain was rather empty, or unable to process what I was supposed to be feeling. Here I was, dressed for Graduation from Middle School. I like how the picture is a little bit creepy.  We were living in a Deep East Texas trailer park. Each trailer was situated on at least one acre of land. Ours was a three-bedroom: parents and new baby Michael in the master, a room for four boys, and a room for the four girls.  My dad built bunk beds – two sets for each bedroom. There was a connecting bath, like the Brady Bunch. All the wars you can imagine happened there.  The eldest son lived in the camper out back. In this picture, I’m wearing the graduation dress that was made for me. One of the school counselors had approached my parents about the pending ceremony and asked whether she could arrange an outfit for me.  She took me to the m...