There are things that should never come true, Oedipal, irreversible things that warp your expectations. Something desperately wished for, is plopped in your lap, like it's the most normal thing in the world, like it could happen again. And again. Just for you.
You learn to think magically about the universe. Sometimes it can be harmless, like believing if you win at Spider Solitaire then the person you met last night will call today and be your one true love. At its worst magical thinking leads to Santeria and blood sacrifice. I know. I once saw the chicken die. But I had a good reason. A reason that as I post on this blog in the coming days and months will lead you directly to my central point: Do not reclaim your Inner Child. Kill the little bastard.
This blog is a record of the stories that make up my early life. Everything is true to the best of my knowledge. No Freyed edges. But I have changed some of the names to protect both the innocent and the guilty; as well as to protect my own bank account on the advice of legal counsel.