My memories are my own…mostly. Some of them have been shoved so deep beyond the recesses of my conscious thought, that I’ll never see them again…and I think I’m good with that. If they’re that repressed, I have no intention of unleashing the demons…
The following stories of my life are simply that…stories…told through my eyes…my perspectives. Looking back, I have nothing to complain about…mostly…but you may have been hard pressed to tell me that then. George Santayana once said, “Memory itself is an internal rumor.” It is important for you the reader to know that nothing in these pages is meant to be taken personal…there is no venom mixed with my ink. Quite the contrary actually…this memoir is written with love and a desire to be understood. What I could not communicate in the midst of childhood, I hope to enlighten now. I have never felt that I was difficult to understand, but I know now that I am the only one inside my head…the only one with the legend to read my thoughts.
These memories, I entrust to you as an offering of peace…and understanding. We all have moments in life that shape who we become. I am proud of who I am today and would not be me without the characters in these stories, for good or bad. To those that challenged me, thank you…to those that loved me, bless you.
Just me...
- Micah
- I've had a lifelong love affair with history. For those that know me well...or have read my other blog...it is no secret that Indiana Jones was my childhood hero. I desperately wanted to join Indy on the hunt for the rarest antiquities. Alas, my journey was meant to be different, but the treasures have been just as precious and the adventures just as exciting.