telling an audience of unknowns about the thing is a lot easier than telling the people that you know, that you are related to...why now, why this venue was all that people could say a few years back...back when i was going to debut my life, a part of my life on the stage...the only place i've really felt totally comfortable opening up...a blacked out audience...you tell your stories to the light and it feels like you must be talking to god or some kind of higher power...or maybe the police or some terrorist organization...you can't make me talk.

lights...shining in my eyes, on the floor of my kitchen, light in my brain, flashing and flooding angry light and the next thing you know i'm telling the whole story...some of the story at least...and then i wait. i wait for the audience to respond, i wait for the reviews. why didn't you say something before when we could have prosecuted the guilty? who was that? me? you? the nameless, faceless other?

oh snap. snap. snap. snap. please have compassion, please have compassion and call back and maybe we can erase this from our minds, you know, because we can't change the past. why do you tell us such ugly stories, we are completely disturbed and we are completely devistated and can't you see how much that thing that hurt you hurt us how can you do that to us...