And I’ve walked these streets
In the madhouse asylum they can be
Where a wild-eyed misfit prophet
On a traffic island stopped and he raved of saving me

I would characterize myself as being grounded and yet I have a very open mind. I don’t believe that human beings are the most intelligent life forms that exist on earth. That there are other forces at play that most humans dismiss because it is not tangible. Relying heavily on our sight, sound and touch we tend to miss a lot of signs that are there to help guide us in our life journey. Although, once one of those senses has been compromised we usually gain heightened awareness on a different level. A level that surpasses the surface.

When my mother speaks of my early childhood, she has always described me as being overactive child. At night she would have to lock me in my bedroom because I used to regularly escape and begin wandering throughout the house. Sometimes she would listen at my bedroom door and hear me talking incessantly. According to her I was talking to the “little people.” She told me that I would have these long conversations alone in my room. 

The first home that I recall living in during my childhood was a three bedroom townhome. I had not started kindergarten so I was probably close to 3 or 4 years of age. That’s mainly where my earliest memories begin. There is one early memory from childhood that I had repressed for many years. Only recently, that specific memory resurfaced in my mind. Fixating on the past sometimes allows you to access memories that your subconscious has buried. Possibly for a reason. 

Have I been wrong, have I been wise
To shut my eyes and play along
Hypnotized, paralyzed by what my eyes have found
By what my eyes have seen
What they have seen?

I remember the layout of my bedroom in the townhome. I was still sleeping in a crib. Most times my mother would tuck me in at night. The crib was located in the center of the bedroom so that I could not easily climb down.  I remember there became a time where I started becoming fearful at night. I began to dread the night time routine of being left alone in my room. While trying to go to sleep and staring off to the side of my crib something appeared. I cannot accurately describe what appeared to me the first time but I can the second time something manifest in my room. I was staring to the right of my crib and a tall black shadow of a bunny appeared. I knew it was real and I closed my eyes wishing it away. I’ll never forget the fear. The absolute terror of knowing something was watching me. I don’t know how long it was before I opened my eyes again but when I did it was gone. I never had another experience like that. After the second time, whatever it was, just stopped. I never have told this story to anyone before.

When I was in my late 30’s, my mother told of this incident that happened. She was talking about the townhome that we lived in and how my sister had seen an image of a black bunny pass by the living room window. My mother had seen it also. Now I never heard this story. Although, it then made sense, that just maybe what I saw wasn’t a hallucination. Indeed, what I saw, might have been real. 

Have I been blind
Have I been lost
Have I been wrong
Have I been wise
Have I been strong
Have I been hypnotized, mesmerized by what my eyes have found
In that great street carnival

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