my old man stage... i hate noise...

i was trying to think of the hospital days.. faces i no longer remember... they are just fading smudges across a landscape... first attempts that never happened... firsts unrequited..

firsts in the room with others... i loved that giant pillow... 

trying to remember the first time at EAP...

michelle.. she tried to sneak in my room so we could do the sneaky deaky... she got caught and I played dumb.. gomen..

as I was in my last few months there.. maybe last month there... I noticed a redhead.. 

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Little_Red-Haired_Girl

and anytime I see red... she's the number one thing I think about to this day.

Why her? Why this torture? Why... this is the pain that leads me to the questions I ask of this world.

I hate that asking why questions is not helping.. I get that.. I do.. as they typically are of irrational perspective where one should ask the how. How am I always responding to those key memories, why are they so foundational as to when you focus on the moment.. think back about the events... the first is the most addicting substance on this earth... if you could package that and resell it.. you'd make a fortune... why is my brain wired like this..

we are a slave race designed to give 1st's to those with the means... first experience's are fundamental to our development as a species in our comprehension of this reality. They help create a sorta of unaware mental baseline, one that usually has a whole list of prior experiences (education, cultural reinforcements" et al) that provide enough basics that allows one to make something of a decision. Learning to fly... sink or swim.

What our personal cognitive dissonance allows, coupled with education and experience. Note education is both formal and informal. Compared with what we know as a species.