CHAPTER 311

I am sitting before a blank screen on a rainy evening. My mind is full of people, the majority of whom have exiled me to the periphery of their existences. I have never been more confused in my life. 

I am not well mentally. I am laced with ugly scars and bleeding wounds. I don't expect or ask for sympathy. This is the result of having lived life ruled by a lust for food, drink and sex. I wish it could have been different, but certain things weren't meant to be. You won't encounter me at HEB in the future raving about raising grandchildren. I am too much of a bohemian for baby-sitting duties. Out of the eight children in my family, God chose me to be the black sheep.

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