My life story isn't finished yet, and there is a lot of back-story left to tell. But Blanche and I realized that those stories will not be written. Oh, the ideas are there, and the passion is there— along with the brain fog.
Brain fog, caused by all the drugs I take. The doctors' took an oath to keep me alive and they're doing that. It oftentimes requires strong medicines to keep the machine functioning, but at a high cost: strong side effects. I accept the effects, even though they contend for available brain cell receptors in order to work.
And so I have a faulty memory that plays tricks on me, that makes me dizzy enough to pass out, that makes all things familiar appear to be from Never-Never Land, that causes confusion and forgetfulness—how the hell am I to write anything of substance amongst chaos?
So thank you, Blanche, for being here for me, and along with Rhonda T., making this book almost a reality. I hope you find a nice marble statue to reside in or, better yet, you're somewhere in place and time inspiring someone else to write the best they can.
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Disambiguation, Oct. 31, 2011: Judging from the first few comments, I need to make it clear that Soul Songs will NOT be published in book form because my collaborator, a graphic designer who did wonderful layouts, photos, fonts, and pull-quotes, abandoned the project when we were 90% complete. The book has long since been dismantled (as well as the idea of publishing it), and the essays posted on this blog—most of them rewritten for the better.
I apologize if my brain fog is contagious.