Feeling
worse than useless and being told as much most of
my growing up years it
was easy not to try. When I did
try, even though I might have started out with excitement, I learned early on
to devalue that which I loved and was relieved when it sunk like a heavy rock
into the general category of useless/worthlessness. So familiar was this sinking place that, whatever for that
moment became the object of my desire, lay shrouded in an ephemeral aura of
disdain. Ironically, to match up
this split psyche with my experience I find it useful to project the
possibility of love onto anything and everything that remains just out of my
reach.