Why I really think we have things to talk about

 All my other friends burned out or failed me in ways that matter to me and are invisible to them.

Thinking you don’t believe in the invisible either. You’re a rock musician and still alive. I’m a writer and still alive,

All my friends are physically dead or dead in place. Why I’m in such a bad mood. 

I’m thinking you’ve had a hell of a life. I definitely have had. You did too. Tell me about it.

Cared about everything from the very beginning. Too sensitive. Why I had to punch a bully in the nose in 3rd grade. My dad was just preparing me for the need to fight back. Never told me how to land on the nose.It worked. He sat on a desk and cried.

What am I talking about? I have had an extraordinary life and maybe the last of its kind. I don’t know how to talk about all of of this. Too big. There are simply too many narratives of my life. All intermingling, overlapping but none sufficient without the others, my wife can’t hold them in her head and thinks I’m nuts…

But I’m not nuts. The easiest narrative is lineage, My family came to the U.S. in 1746, refugees of the Lost Rebellion of Bonnie Prince Charlie. Some hippie witch from Yellow Springs, Ohio, appraising me as a consulting partner for her professor husband told me I was a soul of a kind she’s never met. She said I’d been a fourth or fifth century Scottish warlord who wanted to come back and atone for sins past unheard of in her experience.

She did agree to me as a partner for her husband. Psychics have always been interested in me. I have heard ghosts myself. At some level, that’s what I am. I can’t tell your fortune with the Tarot. I can tell you where we are and where we’re going. I am a born seer,.