Once, on a dare with myself, I cried a thousand rivers and chose to swim the eighty-seventh one.
 Upon arrival, and the dipping of my third toe (on my right foot), I stripped and ventured into the salty flow. Being a very good swimmer, I used my third leg to steer as to avoid slamming into the breakable walls of my mind.
 My course took me on a wild journey down into the pits of my thoughts. Sometimes light showed, sometimes not. My breath formed crystal balls of energy which took flight.
 Suddenly the river ended.
 Wading to the shore I noticed my body had become a ghostly silvered hue. I was also sexless. I then realized that I have always been this way but tradition had formed me otherwise. Without prejudice, I walked onto the jagged crystals that formed the beach. Each step would melt my foot over the rocks only to have it grow solid again with every lift. I looked around for security.
 In the distance spanned the Web of Remembrance.
 I kept steadily on course until the white criss-crossed strands loomed enormous over the horizon. The web reached forever to the left and even farther to the right. On every sticky strand hung every notion or person or idea or thought with which I had ever come in contact. While the older ones were dried, worn out husks blowing in the breeze, the newer memories dangled and dripped like meat fresh from the slaughter.
 I grabbed onto the nearest strand and began my climb. The web tried to hold me but for now I was the stronger. Every few hours I would glance up, then down, then side to side until I knew I had finally reached the center.
 Wondering who had actually built this Web, I pulled a strand until it snapped. I tied the strand around my neck making sure it was really secure (especially since I was so fragile).
 I jumped from my perch and was instantly snatched back up and ensnared in the sticky mess which was, I now knew, my mind.
 In order not to forget myself, I chose to stay. I chose the center of Remembrance and made myself apart of me forever.
 What began as nonsense became an adventure.
 But, like a thought, once it stuck, I knew what I had to do...
 And I did it.


01/27/91 Strand (G.L.)