By the way, it isn’t because I want to respect the chronology of my life that I’m opening my little journal with childhood memories. When I was little, I didn’t have the words to express what I was. Even today, I have trouble finding them. It’s been too long since you forbade them. So I’m speaking to you in parables, like a child. Piece by piece, I’m deconstructing the scaffolding of lies that I’ve dictated to you.
