p.s. i'm over my desire to be diagnosed. it took me a while though.



          FREEDOM 1


      What she really wanted to do was write. A novel, perhaps, but the doctor said
      memoirs would be more therapeutic. After having kept a diary for thirty three
      years, she certainly had enough resources to call upon. She didn't like attending
      school meetings, having coffee with the neighbors, or shopping for light bulbs.
      Writing was the only time she was perfectly content. The only way she could
      be completely in her own world, yet not alone. with the words on the page,
      she felt company. When you really hate sharing, it includes life. She felt so much
      bigger than life, and trapped by it at the same time. even if she could fee herself
      of obligations, meetings, and the general goings on she is still bound by deeds
      and thoughts, colours, and music. all very restricting. so on paper, although
      bound by words, she could at least put them together in any combination to
      become whomever she desired. mother, lover, chef, historian, writer.

      This is a character who's created world seems more real. As real as eggs,
      meetings and environmental choice. real lives. The character is free. Free
      to change. Free to love. Free to hate. From here, the world can shine on
      both sides. Shutting it out is just too obvious. Internal growth and avoiding
      life itself. Too easy. Too much. Too painful. Then she called the doctor.


      FREEDOM 2

      very copyright the mEp
      louern@vif.com
      1999