Ive tried to write this thing 4 times...
Just played a drum solo in church... It was not Brian.. It was me...
I don't know who I am... I do not have a name... I have a catalog of memories going by... not to many, mainly when I was young, at a very early age in Golden-dale, and when I was with my Grandmother.. Age 11or 12....
I see memories trying to see if someone calls my name.. Im getting strange names... Craig? Im not sure.. I don't have a name... Im not him. Im not brian... That I know for sure... I suck my thumb.. or bite on it... It seems normal to put in my mouth... I feel OK... I think...
I remember being the other me around Lance.... I was never Brian when I was around Lance... I was never me around anyone... I was hidden... I looked from beneath....
I remember the memories... the life that was taken from me.... I don't miss it.. it was not real.. if it had been the fantasy I thought it was... Why did no one rescue me? The fantasy was great was it not... I am not fooled by these people or any others... Yet, their was no where to hide. I turn from them, and go where, I do know where.. All is lost.. Now I walk the Plank...
I hate all of this... Im not sure what to think... I see memories of when I was molested very young.. Im fighting back, Im being beat up... Very young... ripping and tearing.... I have very small memories of ? I have no name... I have a strength.... I don't care what people think, like Brian does, he cares what people think...
I have to fight against my mother... His mother.. Brains mother... Because she was not my mother I never listened to her.... She meant nothing to me.... I did not know her... Nor did I need to or care. The father in the house was a strange bloke.. Always getting into trouble. And unruly character, he was in and out all the time and broke to boot...
people have been leaving me... They think Im brian and Im weak... just like dear old mum... It didn't phase me... Nothing does.
12 step people don't look right to me. Something is different... My memory bank is different... Im remembering when I lived with my Grandmother.... the park... The girl that was my girl friend when I was 10 or 11..... seems younger. I wasn't younger... Makes me sick now that I think this family abandon me at such an early age... Horrible... Like they never knew me...
The eyes see.. They are seeing... This is me.... Im seeing from sadness, the truth..... The horror... No one came back to rescue me.. I was abandon for ever.... They are still trying to hate me.. Others....
Im not sure ... Im not sure who I am....
I don't function.. Not in the real world, the outside world... I would kill myself first before I would be apart of that... I want to kill myself.... I don't want this anymore.... I feel like Im in 6 dreams...
Im in this little apartment... I go to these 12 step meetings... Why.!! Im in this small town... Why!! How did I get here....... Why!!
When people at the meeting call me brian , I feel uncomfortable... They don't know brian... They only have seen me... And they don't know me....
I just want to go to sleep for ever...
The memories that come with this are causing great anxiety/pain
The memories are causing great tragedy, they are changing the face of identity...
I am not who I thought I was. When I felt loved I felt OK/I felt safe. When I feel safe I feel better....
When I was a child their were at least 2 of me.... I was hidden watching everything while brian was on the outside. I am his alter/ his other personality/I protect him that I may protect myself. I am appearing as he is not the first.... I am not the only one, their are others. I remember his childhood, he does not, he was not present. I am in great pain....
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I want this to pass so I can go back to making hip hop music.....
This may be the only way Im forced to deal with and see old memories... I don't see them from Brian's view... I switch into someone else, then, from that point of view I can see the memories... Now that I can see them again, I can deal with the great pain/loss/confusion... Great upheaval/abandonment
I think.... I would really like to stay present as the other person... The real me that was shut off... That is the me that is buried that is seeing all of this past trauma and memories that are of a life that was snuffed out...
Who is in control of me...