Angry ghosts

 I have angry ghosts in my head. I have put off writing about them but this could be my last post. I see my sex offender counselor in two hours.

The ghosts are not always dead. Maybe even the dead are not so dead as they are in my head. They are the ones I have let down by my crimes but also those whose expectations for me I have failed to meet these past 40 years. There are the people who thought I should be, could be, a writer, and, yes, my great aunt is dead but not TJ. There are those who thought I would do better for the family and all those dead people down in Ripley County. I can hear Stephanie W and Joni yell at me for my self-destructive ways. I hear my mother asking me what I was thinking and I have no answer for her.

These ghosts appeared years ago - even before I walked into federal prison.  Coming did not resurrect them. Coming home was the means to paying of my debt to those I let down with my misspent life.

What I do not know is if the government will let me pay off those debts in the only way I have left to me - putting words on paper. If not, I leave you with this apology for failing those who believed in me.

I have no hit the 500 posts Google seems to require for my putting advertising on this blog. I hope I have left behind even of interest that you read what else I have posted here. Maybe it will teach you a few things. I have posts scheduled until December 16 - albeit most of those are about writing.

And since it may be closing time, I will let Leonard Cohen have the last word. Just click here.

sch