Well, I know I am not who I was a month ago, just as Alice knew she was not who she was when she woke up that morning. That between the Now and the Then there have been many changes. I have lost my faith. I, an officiant in the church, find myself, as Michael Stipe would say, in the spotlight, losing my religion. That’s me. Or perhaps it was taken away from me and I was duped. That’s highly possible. After all, you can’t always go around offering something that is close to your heart and sharing it unless you are dead sure that those you are sharing with are not going to turn around and fuck you later on. I hate to use the word “fuck” but I can’t think of a better word. As a friend said to me, “You were fucked and without the foreplay…” I realize I am being vague here, but the story is too long and I fear if I tried to explain it would not be understood.
What I do mean to say is be careful what you share of yourself – the places you consider sacred and that you consider holy, the places I called “thin” places – that are neither “here” nor “there” but simple places of meditation where one can just "be" without interruption from the rest of the world. Once you share those places, they are no longer yours and yours alone. They are, for lack of a better word, in the public domain. PD. Part of Project Gutenberg, pages there for anyone to read and you, my friend, you become the open book; where once perhaps you were a mystery and interesting, you become by contrast dull because you have given the key and allowed easy access.
I am not saying these things defined me, because they did not, and they would not again. Nor am I saying that people can steal who you are, but what they can do is make you question who you are and they can in and of themselves question you – ask of you, who are you? And different people can do this in different ways. You can have a friendly who are you? An angry who are you? The vehement, full of fury who the fuck are you? Who do you think you are? All of these things or one of them, but it all adds up the same – it’s a questioning of identity, and if you can’t answer this basic question - which I can’t right now - then I think perhaps Houston, we have a problem.