My Lives.

Life #1:
I was born. I don't remember it -- some people seem to remember their swim down the canal...some people had a hard time with it. I must have slipped right out, because my first life knew no trauma. I remember a beautiful mobile hanging above my crib. I remember my blankey. I remember having a girlfriend who rode a tricycle. I had a wagon. I lost my favorite toy in the forest by the hayfield, and a strange man driving a galactic-sized combine stopped and something happened that day. It lives on the tip of my tongue, unable to be remembered, unable to be forgotten.

Life #2
I moved alot. So who cares? The past fades away like sunlight at the end of the day. I met a new girlfriend. She wanted to play doctor. I liked playing doctor; it got me excited. She became terrified of me...something like maybe I didn't remember...that day in the field. Whatever, now I know the man who touches little girls.

So I made a pal instead. We laughed so hard one day in my fort that every time we peeked at each other we would start howling again.

Life #3
But who cares? I moved alot. I discovered pornography and heard about war. So I asked Dad to teach me ragtime piano but he said he would hire a teacher. I was rejected. I asked Mom about war. And what she told me only scared me more. I choked on spagetti because I was clowning. I got scared to clown. I got sick. And then I kept getting sick.

Life #4
But no worries, because I moved alot. I learned to swear and then learned that my little brother sounded like a fool when he copied me. So I mocked him, instead of changing myself. I didn't have friends.

Life #5
The weather at least was nice -- farm country. The air smelled goood almost all year long. There were dark-skinned people around, something felt good about that place. I felt happy. Apple orchards are nice places. Irrigation ditches move very slowly. I discovered I could be crafty and Mom and Dad could still argue.

Life #6
Ahhh, I moved a lot. But I felt good going into this one -- maybe I could make this one last. But girls now were getting sexy and it occupied my mind entirely. I was timid and needed help. I met a pal who traded me confidence for my little brother. Then I tried to recreate my little brother in another person. Strangely, that life became some sort of altered-parallel-dimension, because odd fragments of it still live on. Blood is thicker than water.

Life #7
None-the-less, I moved on. I became possessed, I thought, with success, but what I really wanted was pussy. I was stupified to retardation by the female body. So much so that when I made a new girlfriend, I was afraid to touch her, and she got fucked by my roommate instead.

Life #8
So I decided this time around to get fucked myself -- easier than fucking somebody. I got the hell fucked out of me, and I was unhappy for EVER.

Life #9
A new girlfriend saved my sorry ass, and we shared ganja. But then I got sick again, and I grew concerned that somehow these lifetimes were all actually connected. Karma became suddenly an undeniable thing and I grew more and more sick considering everything that had happened.

Life #10
I recovered thanks to my decision to do so. I thought it was for love of a person I once knew -- but she went away and eventually I discovered that it was just for Love.

Life #11
Strange Life Number Eleven. So much memory of so many other lives, you know, I'm telling you, I've moved a LOT. Here's what I know after 10 lives: Family is everything. Blood is thicker than water.

Oh, and also, the next life in seems inevitable and that's O.K.