I don’t like writing.
I can fill in a form alright, even make out a cheque, but I’m not so good at thoughts and feelings. It’s not for lack of ability. I’m told that I am quite intelligent, I.Q. tests put me at 155, yet I barely made it out of high school.
My parents separated when I was 2. Daddy moved in and out of the house depending on the availability of other women. He was a pilot and at the time I was convinced that he was busy flying around the world. He finally left the country when I was 8, sold the house, kept the money, and raped my mother on the way out the door.