nccotus

how can you even know?

well, consider the signs:

terrible fear of my mother and father when I entered psychoanalysis under their roof in a state of exhaustion back in ‘83 and couldn’t sleep for 3 nights and kept fleeing to the local ER.

my father kept a copy of the book Justine by the author the Marquis de Sade, the foster of Sadism. I know this because I read the first few paragraphs at age 10 or so when I when sifting through his books on the weekend for reading materials.

My mother had a treasured copy of an antique Chinese book of prints of a man being tortured to death and finally killed. She kept it on the desk in the living room right by the front door for everybody to see.

the rest would be overkill. Suffice it to say that she was fascinated by torture.

I found relief in college in a used copy of “The Story of O” that I picked up at the Harvard Bookstore in Harvard Square. The book was a lot different from the movie. Kind of esoteric.

here I am 100 years later, or so it feels; trying to piece together my life on an ALF floor after trying to raise a kid. After 3 abortions.