One of my greatest fears

One of my greatest fears has always been that someday, I will lose touch with reality. I have an active and vivid imagination. My fantasies run from power to terror to sex to how to handle tomorrow’s meeting. I work out my life in my mind; designing, writing, re-arranging furniture. Sometimes these things come to fruition, sometimes not. My fear is that I will cease to know the difference. One day I’ll sit down with a friend and tell them earnestly how I met the President, defeated a mugger, or won a Webby. Maybe I’ll catch myself, deepening my embarrassment. Or maybe I’ll believe it myself.

There is a reason for this fear. In the last years of her life, my mother was working closely with Senator Kennedy on sneaking a water-powered engine past the oil companies. The oil companies were everywhere. They watched our house. They followed her to work. But she and Ted were going to get it done, despite the opposition of this Insidious Conglomerate. I admit it was pretty entertaining at times, but it shook me to my roots. This is my mother with paranoid schizophrenia. I have her genes. I even look quite a bit like her. Will my mind disintegrate like hers? Will I become a source of entertainment for my friends? I take hope in the fact that I loved her despite her illness, as I’m sure my friends will continue to love me.



Until I tell them what I said to Madonna.

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