series1bk2.3.2

 

Jumped up to a label for unmerited distinction,  I picture frontal images of him others - mother, father, household - might expect reflected or imposed on what I used to be. The sleazy sycophantic deference, in easy greeting from those who pose as socially dependent, makes me a mendicant target for specious praise, brazenly distorting my assessment of self-worth. A dearth of candid communication to sort out the oughts and oughtn'ts weighs heavy, together with the blatant change in name: an identity sent in a side swipe from a dead Grandad.      Know this I say, when all the talking's done,      the Me that was, and will be, still is one.