Dear Dr.Alia-Klein,
I forgot who it was(Socrates?)that said,"I think,therefore I am",but with me it is so much more than 'I AM' for thinking takes me far away from here.What really gets me thinking beyond just closing my eyes and drifting away in thought is writing for I must think of what I want to write.
I always wanted to be a hero saving someone from disaster and my thoughts unfold like a story.The other day I was thinking of "The Diary Of Anne Frank" and how I would have loved to be able to save someone.Sometimes I think I may only be a hero in a story I make-up and then I could be a hero twice?Once,within the world of words that I write and then with the story of saving the girl I love.I do not believe I'm Jewish,but it's a story I'd like to write.
Cologne's orphanage had it's very own ditty the nuns would voice in response to our mischiefs.Of course,as we grew older the ditty no longer conjured up fear,but the sister's threats of lashes with a ruler did.It was that ditty about GADU that I was now thinking...
Gadu,an evilness that lived beneathe the Rhine was within my thoughts as I dropped myself to the ground.As I stood frozen,making sure my landing wasn't heard,I looked up to the open window.Peering up to the room's darkness I silently spoke verses from the Torah seeking protection from Gadu.I'm sure Mother Superior would had creased her face with a smile to know that Gadu's myth was alive within my thoughts as I fled into the night.
___________________________________________________________________________________
Throughout the night,as I made my way deeper into the forest,Hitler's ammunitions lit the skies.Lost in thought,I wondered if Hitler's army stood a chance against Gadu?I did not know where I was going and my decision to flee the orphanage was based on the sister's hushed whispers as the Nazis drove toward Cologne.Not all of the bots were Jewish and those whispers spoke of incidents where the Third Reich was searching for Jews.
It wasn't spoken in one whispered conversation,but I learned enough to know that door to door searches were being made.As I moved further away from the orphanage I grew familiar with a lonliness I've befriended throughout my young life.
I knew if I was to stop,the evening's chill would grab hold lulling me to danger.The Rhine's vastness didn't block the wintry air,yet I knew this was the way I needed to go.'The way' to where?I did not know,but it was a route that seemed to be away from the minitions.
"HALT!"A voice bellowed as my footing gave way on the icy bank.Fear immediately immobilized me to where only my lips moved.Many would had believed they moved in shivers but mumbled pleas filled my heart as I wished Gadu would rear it's ugly head.
"Get up!" The lead soldier ordered while three others stood over me with rifles pointed.My thoughts of jumping into Gadu's arms were short lived as I thought of the icy waters.
Now I fall out of thought as a story teller and I realize I may never be that hero unless it's within an imaginery world I make real.Maybe it doesn't even have to be a hero,it could just be that I want to be meaningful or important to someone,anyone,and I just may never be.With you,others that I meet,and some one I may meet tomorrow...I just look to mean something meaningful and I know I could mean something when I put words on paper in an imaginery world for I control all that happens.
That young boy who was grabbed by the Nazis will be hauled away,taken to a concentration camp where all are lost & divided.He should feel at his most comfortablest here for it is just like an orphanage,where families have been ripped apart.Many still don't know or believe they won't be seeing their mother,father,husband,wife,child,or sibling again,but they hear and see the divided & lost all around them.
Even in a moment of the scariest fear or when one could feel so alone,I'd make the story change course where the slightest hint of a smile will change the direction.Sure,death would be met for I think the best stories told are thev ones that bring tears.We remember sorrow longer then a brief bout of happiness.
The boy would be at an age just beyond the phase of girls having cooties to just before their bodies swelling with lust.Whats that age?Ten or eleven where I could feelm an attachment to someone or something.I suppose in despair the simplest of things in the ugliest of places is held and can't be measured in wealth.
It wouldn't end with happiness for happy endings aren't remembered as much as hurt and sadness.My life time of memories always has the ugliness stand out.I'd let the boy attach himself to that young girl that showed that slight smile.He doesn't even know what love is,but his attachment wouldn't be a love adults share.It would be a sibling closeness where they may not even be friends if society was different.
They are young,but they are aware that life for them isn't long.He found the love of a sister,closeness,in despair and it is a distraction from the death around him.Most would want young love to blossom but as I said,sad stories tend to be remembered more.
I know when Stephen King first started writing he wrote short stories that were published in a magazine designed for such.They don't have that anymore.The only places I see that takes short stories are pornographic magazines and they aren't stories that the majority reads.It isn't a play on words,but they all end in climax.
It is alittle scary to tell you this because of your field,but I use to live in that imaginery world world which is an aid to when I write today.Sitting in my room(punished)all them months or years had me playing school with imaginery students,etc..No,none ever talked back,no voices were heard,nor were the persons ever seen(smile).
You must wonder how I come up with the thoughts that I write,but I always try to get a message tom you about me.If you notice in all my letters the hardest part of a prison sentence isn't the years spent inside this subculture.It is the lonliness and witnessing a piece of socialization ebb away each & every day.It is being alone and feeling that you're not of importance to anyone.I think the ONLY time one could appreciate all of this is when they face death for then they're not breaking anyone's heart on their exit.
About 6 years ago Linda Kirk(the woman from the youth bureau)lost her mother to alzheimers disease and it made me wonder?Wouldn't it be good that when a person dies they don't recognize those around them?I think the last bit of time that is left,thet aren't torn up with hurt witnessing the pain on the faces of their loved ones because they don't know who they are.I read that a lot of people are deterred from suicide because as they write their goodbye notes they aren't sure if they are remenmbering to include all they want to say and all the people they know.I don't know if there is a statistic for it,but I'd believe more lonely people kill themselves then those surrounded by love.
In the Bible it says suicide is a SIN and you don't get to Heaven if you're to take your own life.Maybe this is also the reason no one is really sure about Heaven?If we know for SURE that it is such a thing of beauty,a lot of us really would not mind going sooner then later.I told you I'm really not that religious,but I also won't talk trash about religion or denounce GOD just in case there is such a place!If there really is a plan for all of us and GOD has mine mapped out,then I suppose there are better days ahead for I'm not that bad of a person to have to go through what I have/had.
I do wish I had far more proof to the words in the Bible!You see,my sister & her husband are Born Again Christians.They asked to be saved and the past 12 years of their lives have been years of happiness.I asked to be saved and didn't feel as they did and I had faith in my heart so it wasn't like I was trying to fool anyone.Why wouldn't I want to be happy,why wouldn't anyone?
Some say religion was designed to control the masses which makes alittle sense,but I feel this way.Most of the time if we feel and live positive lives you'll more than likely receive positive responses.Most smiles are met with smiles and if the world all thought positive-isn't this what the Bible basically states?
I don't know if I am right in saying this,but most scientists don't believe in God,right?I don't know where I heard this or read it,but what do you believe?Well,I'd like to believe in all that is good and it will take a lot more then just a few naysayers to change what I believe(I suppose).
Our world is a bit twisted as well for we all acknowledge a priest if we pass him by on the sidewalk,but we hold our possessions tight if we pass the outstretched hand of a panhandler.
I don't think Mr.Thieben gave you the journal I wrote in-I think he gave you a book I had written about my life back in the 90s(94-95).I know the book would be a different perspective from then and now for I was still close vwith my mother and siblings.
You know what you're doing and I'm blinded fir I don't know if your research ends with our interview or it continues after that.I act as if it ends,but I don't know?
There was a time in my life when I'd rather run from conflict,but I remember the times I did my stepfather would make fun of me.He may not had come out to say it directly,but him making fun of me was an encouragement for me to fight.
My stepfather built an apartment in the basement of the house on the 12 Violet road and he rented it out.Whenever they were building a new house in the neighborhood he'd send my oler brother and I to steal 2x4s so he didn't have to pay for them.I was about 9 or 10,but it's ironic where I learned how to steal.I was thrown out of mr house at 16 because my friends burglarized my neighbor's house(in 1981).I just felt something didn't make sense when he allowed me to steal when it served his purposes,but threw me out of the house otherwise.
I could never ask my mother these things,but I'd really love to.I just think that there are too many unanswered answers to questions I'd have even if my stepfather has now been dead since November of '09.I just can't get by these things for when I wrote her that letter that was the beginning to me telling her what I felt and I could never let it go without knowing what she thought as a mother?This is what my sister meant when she said I was letting the hatred for my stepfather ruin my life.It has already ruined for there is NO one in my family that responds to my letters and it all revolves around my stepfather who is dead and gone.
I think I'll let you go now and until next time,take very good care of yourself.
James
.
No comments:
Post a Comment