i apologize that this is getting mixed up now, the fragmented memories come when i open the door... one central theme in my life that pops up over and over is this topic of homelessness...

Dave, you are right, i control where i go and what i do, and only i am responsible for it... (might be an exception or two tho)

when i was 15 things with mom werent going so good... there were 3 kids and moms broken back, and maybe a cat, i cant remember now... i was the middle chil, the outsider and newcomer...

the family had been trying to reconstruct, moms place in life had just come really heavy for her... her 2nd and last (so far) husband decided that he couldnt stay around and left the state... mom was alone but she had gramma and a cousin her age to lean on..

i was young, fresh really... i thought i had a future somewhere still and i came to moms with a fresh attitude towards it all.. i was lifted whenever i looked up and saw my mountains nearby... gave me hope, energy, beauty to look at almost anytime.. we lived within walking distance and i would dream of rolling down the hills like a cylinder..

i didnt understand a lot of stuff then, i was just glad to be someplace where i wasnt being abused anymore and i enrolled in high school and met my sisters group of friends.. they were different, but it was fun, we were young, smiles, rock and roll, girls and freedom.... mom gave me a lot more fre space than dad ever did...

i knew i was supposed to help mom.... i tried to tune into her needs... she could snap into a dark place without warning and i always stayed sensitive to the switch cause someone got hurt each time...