The idea of being abandoned is so painful to me that I resist it even when I am running in the opposite direction of my abandonment. I couldn\u2019t feel the shackles fall from my neck, ankles and wrists. I could only hear, \u201cNow go!\u201d But, I was already running and, like a dog on a choke chain, continued to repeatedly asphyxiate myself as I reached the end of my line. \u201cNow go!\u201d sets me free. I bristled because I didn\u2019t get to say, \u201cI\u2019m leaving.\u201d Petulant, foolish, little boy that I am. I didn\u2019t see that you were pushing me off the Amistad and back toward the shore of life, back to the world. Like the Ancient Mariner, I had been the lot in a craps game between Death and Life-in-Death, and having been won by the latter, it had become the only life I knew or expected. That was not, is not, and shall not ever be a life. I feel like a snake that\u2019s just molted and am completely grossed out by the shell I\u2019ve left behind. Thank you, thank you, thank you for telling me to fuck myself and die. Isn\u2019t that ironic? That is where I found my life.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
The idea of being abandoned is so painful to me that I resist it even when I am running in the opposite direction of my abandonment. I couldn\u2019t feel the shackles fall from my neck, ankles and wrists. I could only hear, \u201cNow go!\u201d But, I was already running and, like a dog on a … <\/p>\n