Once Again

Because I’ve never had the privilege (or frightening experience) of being inside someone else’s head, I have no idea if my weird quirk of chronically writing stories of my life in my mind is normal or not.  Regardless, the words are always there, silently narrating my life.  An inward accounting of our stories.

Unfortunately, I’m also chronically forgetful.  I can read a book, and by the time I see the movie version I’ve forgotten the ending and many of the important details.  I can’t recount the number of times I’ve seen Phantom of the Opera (movie and stage versions) and the ending is always a surprise. I generally live by the motto “If I don’t write it down, then it didn’t happen.”

So in an effort to get the words out of my mind and into a medium which will help me recall our life’s details, I’m turning to blogging.  Again.  Third time’s a charm, right?  I don’t mean to seem self-important. Readers can read or not.  I just want to write.

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