: About Me

I can't say that I know who it is I am - not really anyways.

A little more than 4 years ago, I suffered an exceptionally acute case of amnesia. It was potent to the degree that I could not recall the simplest of things. Not my name, my family, nor even my favorite brand of cereal. (They tell me it was Cocoa Puffs, but now I find Trix to be far better.)

It took a while for me to accept that I had children - a daughter and a son - and to trust them, and the things they were telling me about my life. Most of the things they had said I could not believe.

It seems that before I retired I was a writer of sorts, I did odd jobs here and there, nothing big. I had two wives, each bore me a child, each died doing so. My children said that despite the 'shitty' things that had happened in my life I was always a 'cheery' dude. I'd roll with the punches.

As I've said, they told me that writing was a passion of mine, one I had not given up even in retirement. Thus I am here, to write. I find that some of the things I put on paper help me recall things from my first life (It's what I call the life I had before the amnesia.)

As it is, I hope you find the things I write enjoyable, and if not, you find them at least interesting.

My passion is ...

Writing.

I know too much about ...

Nothing really. Though supposedly I was into collecting stamps.

My parents always told me ...

Can't remember. (Will look into it.)

My childhood ambition ...

They said I wanted to be the first man on the moon.

My favorite memory ...

Well, out of the 4 years...the day I accepted my children back into my life.

Why I write ...

There are far too many reasons. However, were I not to have them, I think I'd write regardless.

What I am reading/watching/listening to ...

I'm re-reading Dostoyevsky, and watching nothing in particular, though I do like stand up comedians. Listening to Tom Waits.

My first job ...

I think I was a paper-boy once. I don't know if that was my first job.

My best moment ...

See "My favorite memory"

My inspiration ...

Probabilities and Possibilities.

Creative Writing > Poetry Poetry: Modern world

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Late Mint-flavored fresh water, fresh wound from a broken glass of broken dreams. Cream pie memories, checking out the check score. We're glorious simple. We're amazing commonplace. Running alibi laps, sinking stranger ships. Sentencing sentences, hanging contrived commas. Breathing in the secondhand, breathing out vintage years. We're petrified indifference. We're living late.

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• Helium Charter Member