Stories

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Mother had a how-to-type book that showed where the fingers went, so it was simple matter of practice, probably typing sentences and paragraphs that were demonstrated in the book.

I spent a certain amount of time reading. I discovered Mentor books, and would buy specific titles at a book store, probably the closest thirty miles away in Waukegan. I read some of the Beatniks and especially, 'On The Road' by Kerouac. I read Siddhartha by Hesse and 'The Stranger' by Camus. I read Poe and 'Walden' by Thoreau. Can't even begin to remember the other books I read. Know I read certain of the European philosophers, like Kant, Spinoza, Locke, Hobbes, Hume, Voltaire. I remember I was very romantic. I knew I was a mess and hated myself. And I knew the human world of social affairs was a mess. I wanted to figure out why and that was my objective.

I would write down questions. I would write down answers, any answers that came to mind. What is God? God is an all powerful force. Soon I began to convert the questions to statements. God is what. God is love. God is omnipotent. God is everlasting punishment. God is all powerful. God is everything. God is must believe. God is punishment to sinners. I wrote fast and furious whatever came to mind, no matter how ridiculous, and even opposites of my conscious assumptions like God is hate. This was free-association whatever came to mind. I had heard of and may have read about free-association through the Beatniks. God is hate - where did that come from? Questions became statements of which I would agree or disagree. Statements contained answers and definite material to compare with feeling and what was inside myself as existing information.

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