I decided to go to NYU and move to Paris, France because I felt time change twice around the time my father was diagnosed. If his physician was correct in his estimation that it had been ten years since he had diagnosed my father with Parkinson’s then…it was around this time.

So then, add anything else that came after that.

At least, I have a rich universe to share.

The settings were evocative, sensual, strong imagery. My nose up against the glass, my first time in New York City, a bitterly cold day, the sky flat white. We turn down 4th Street, my Aunt is yelling at my father, the bright purple flags whipping wildly in the winds, people hunched over, ducking into thresholds. And then, when we turned onto the park, so vivid, this is just vivid now, not as sensational, since this took time to organize. I didn’t know that these two events were related, even, which might not make sense, so even that took a moment.

Time began to change, I mean, that’s it. It felt like something descending, suspending, and my only thought was, I did not know time could change. So I’m trying to assess what is going on, I don’t know where we are exactly in this argument between Aunt Jane and my father, but out her window, the branches from the park were bare and black against snow, the white sky, like a photograph, something unforgettable, indescribable, a moment.

I’m out my window and what I remember was the clanking of a carabiner against a pole and my head flew up to the majestic purple flag, now here, can’t really explain. The flag was suspended, rippling through the air, like time had slowed down, but we didn’t, too, and I don’t remember that we stopped at the light, was there one back then, I don’t know, but I was getting a message. I was squinting through the folds, like what is reaching for me, and this felt very real. I remember that we traveled only a short distance but that’s not what it felt, and I can’t go into the realm of imagination, I mean, I could, in saying, space might not have been the same, which it wasn’t. Something was reaching for me…and then we crossed the park and it broke like a spell with a message attached very clear. I was going to go to school here. I tapped the window. That’s it. I said it, and my father and I fought about it as if it were real. I fought with these seniors. It was done, decided. I was eight? Nine? This is the thing, I guess I was nine going on ten, but the next summer, and sorry, but I get nervous around giving an incorrect age because of my past and just my story. But my ages were a little confusing around this time. The next summer, unless he had symptoms earlier, it was farfetched even for me, but then, a hypnotherapist I worked with said “that’s the Alzheimer’s….” okay?

So I decided, who knows why, I would go to NYU. I get seeing the future, except that’s not correct, there are many futures, I can to find out even in probability. You’re seeing a future, not the one, but for some the future that they see is so impactful, that’s the path. There are people like that. And sure, I suppose I had one of those moments, except my father had Alzheimer’s and time bending is neurological. Time exists. It does. It doesn’t “really” exist. But it can bend. Your time perception can change. I was not scared. But I struggled with this moment…later.

The next summer, I went to Paris for the first time with my father, and again, I go through different spaces with all this, partially because I’m coming onto the other side of a whole event, process that was just me trying to write something, so I don’t know what to say about him. I still have moments of being like, just no. I get that I’m becoming so much more and that’s like a past life but how would you feel? I mean, isn’t there someone who can talk to me about what I actually went through? In any case, I suppose I can just let that live as if it but to try and include my feelings about it, because these years were a process to even get to, grasp, believe, even if the doctor said it, even if it’s going to be pretty obvious, and I myself go — was it all…I suppose I could write an essay about my father cleaning the sink, his obsession with cleaning the sink, the quiet moments…of…totally, there’s poetry in the stillness, the moments we shared, but it was mostly fighting, at least I can go back. I never really spoke about my parents — my mother yes, I suppose my father as well — but I’m in a different place now. This is all new. With the facts involved. Being told I was wrong for ten years.

What also made my process intense was hearing questions…like…from afar. That someone might have. Stormy seas. I’m fine, I would rather someone else ask me. I mean, I would prefer people asking the questions than me.

It was the end of the afternoon, it appeared, no evening, at the height of the summer so the sun doesn’t set until eleven, midnight. No sooner did we step outside, the air sparked, like walking in a dream on concrete, ancient, old architecture. There might have been already a feeling or a sensation but I will admit I was enchanted with Paris. I had never seen such an effect of light, it was so late, too. And then, we hit the Seine. The sky was on fire, orange, silkily along the waters, slick along the cobblestones. As if the day would never go out. My father started muttering, repeating a phrase over and over again under his breath, his dark eyes drenched in this sensational orange, just spectacular. He was in a state I had never seen him in before. Rubbing his hands, “I should have bought her flowers,” he said. Over and over again.

I appeared, nine, fast energy, this is France, seeing stairs, maybe we could find her flowers, and with his hands, he didn’t even look at me, “nevermind that.” He kept muttering this phrase, wandering on ahead, and I slowed down and started looking around and something was shifting — I was nine — and I asked myself “what is happening?” And I shrugged, right away, “oh, time is bending,” to snap at what I just said. “Time is what?!” How do I know this? This is where I can’t make it up. Time was bending, there were curves perceptible in the air, sensational, time was sensational, sort of a feeling of awe, more so than anything else. Can I see this? Yes, like I’m perceiving through the air? There were different sections. Time was — present, there was only the present moment, I began receiving information, and I can’t remember always the order, like now I looked up disoriented at one point even turned around myself visibly like where is this coming from? Sort of tricky. In any case, orange geraniums cascaded off a Haussmann balcony and a sunbeam bounced off a window and hit my eye and I closed my eye and I saw a slit. Sunbeam. What the…

The voices of playing children almost swept over me—but from what time?! I’m telling you, you don’t want “time to bend.” I mean, time was in waves, too, in glittering layers, as if I was seeing through a filter? Or it was all just present. Present. There was only the present moment. But how extraordinary. I was in Paris so different times exist in the same space. But then, here we go, I perceived probable futures. I saw this — sort of hallucination — which was like stars, almost, like balls of fire, probable futures. I shrugged. Looking around. By what I could gather, because I was also just taking this in, there were probable futures, sure. Some were more probable than others. They were generating energy, it begins as an idea, or something, and so, shrugging, change was possible on a massive scale. Large scale, shrugging, sure. Made sense to me.

Truly, you see, I never really stopped to listen to what I was saying…what I was experiencing. Meanwhile, my father is wandering off in a state, still. Just to say. He doesn’t go, “oh, Maria, where are you?” So I’m just behind him having this experience. I was never able to explain these events, but I did tell people, that’s the thing. It was a mysterious experience I could not explain, and Franco Franzese, the Neapolitans told me this made me more like them, everyone in Naples totally understands. Completely hilarious. No problem with that, totally plausible, believeable, if not further proof that I am really Neapolitan and not American. My parents, my mother—no, not possible.

What I understood at the end of this section was that no matter how improbable it can exist, okay, no matter how improbable it can exist, a future. Alright. Then, the experience came to a peak in what felt like winds blowing my attention across the Seine. I cannot totally — bend, corners, coming to a point of focus — and I had to seriously ask myself: is that the future? Is that the future? The image didn’t look that different from what was there…but what I thought I was seeing was me, living here, again, one day, okay. And it lifted like a spell again. Very interesting to me that spell would be the word, in how it felt. I should look up “spell” and neurological events, I haven’t looked up anything. Not yet.

Never did.

Time went back to normal.

At times, I describe being in a moment like a jewel, seeing the world through a jewel, is terms of its beauty. It was one of the most moving moments of my life. There was no such thing as a problem, you see, nothing. Stunning if not life changing. Deeply affecting. I say I’m going to live here one day, squinting across the Seine, huh, right? He snaps out of it, what, what? I say it again. I’m going to live here one day and he takes me totally seriously. He’s not even taking me in. “No you’re not!” I probably even showed him the spot, but then, how do I talk about what happened?

Yes I am. And he fought me and this made me make another vow to prove him wrong. I had better things to do with my time. Do you know what I mean? This is not a reason to move to France. I will prove you wrong!!! I will move here!!!! So that was that. In terms of what I went through, what I might have experienced, that ended up being rather confusing. Like, I said he was sick, no, but I got that information at twenty, and he denied it, and then, that information didn’t land. No one seemed to hear it either. It seemed to have affected me.

So then, later, because I had to — once I could — just calm down. I’m not a liar. This problem. Imagination. I mean, wow. I got that there were probable futures. More than one. But I didn’t seem to put that together with these events. And that would have been an easy adjustment. Don’t do this so young, maybe, not over the first place you ever went. Sort of a thing. I don’t know. In any case, that was a complicated experience. But I thought about that, time bends, how — what does this have to do with my mother even? Does it? No, him, right? Didn’t even think about him. Even if I also detected something was wrong but I didn’t connect this with that. How could I? However, also, when it came time to stop the physical confrontations between us, I was twelve, this is how I did it. Time bends.

There was a probable future — no matter how improbable — in which I was no longer in this. I meditated on this point somewhere out there. I am no longer in this. I started getting information. Didn’t I hear that, it’s information not even consciousness? I went through a process so I’ll be out of order, not so sure, but “everything exists in relationship,” that came to mind, huh. I went through my ties to this, hard to explain. Oh, first, I got myself in alignment with God, spirit, higher power, perspective, that an adult hitting a child, or someone hitting a child, is not right. So I could align myself with that truth. Evidently. And look, what was happening to him, why I remember myself being younger than twelve, I don’t know, which is true, but I wasn’t, anyway. I couldn’t explain what was happening to him. I went through my ties. I couldn’t really battle with who, why, all that. I just went through that part. Even karma. Whatever this was. I was there. Oh, the first step was becoming conscious that I was in this situation. No. That’s what started this off.

Relationship.

I think this is strictly interpersonal.

Then, “I must induce a fight consciously.”

Huh. Why? Oh, because no one would want to do this consciously. No one wants to hit a child. Come on. A person? Does anyone really want to…I don’t know. I saw that he switched states before coming after me, engaging with me in this way, so “yes,” I see this. I had to break him there. That was basically it. I ran through all the probable outcomes because that made me nervous so if he does this, that, and if he really — I mean, if he wants to do this…fine, I’ll stare death in the face, basically. Throw chairs. I mean, if this if a life or death situation, I will respond to the best of my ability. I went through the thought process.

I induced a fight consciously. I didn’t have to do much. Which was what it was. I had no ties, no emotion, nothing, no anger, no I’m doing anything, nothing. It was as if I were in a different reality. It was one of the most — vertical like I am not in this relationship. He was in his state, I don’t know what to say, since this is just my situation. All I had to do was sort of poke, I didn’t have to do much, and he did the rest. I’m backing up. I’m backing away…”uh huh,” I said. I believe I was visibly squinting, sort of amazed that it seemed to be working. I backed into the kitchen and then he switches states and he came at me and my arm lifted really slowly, purposefully, truly, just up, and he was a bit stunned and stopped.

“I do not want to do this.”

And with a very clear regard, I pointed at him.

“Do you want to do this?”

This was a human-to-human question. No, is this not the question? I mean, consciously, man? I pointed to the door. If you hit me again, I will walk out that door and never return. This went far enough. This is not who we are. I waited. For the response. What is he doing to do, seriously? He paused, looked me up and down, and went away. That was it. We fought, I guess he might have come after me still, actually, but not really, I don’t know. I have just one memory when I got my period and he denied it’s existence, because I got infuriated. He came around, and we lived on negotiation, right, maybe a little, this was around the same time, but obviously memories resurfaced, like that one, so that could be overwhelming. Like I am not lying. But that was pretty much it.

So, it worked. I wish I had had the thought of telling someone but how do you do that? Everyone and anyone who knew us, pretty much, knew that we fought. My Big Sister of America said she had never seen people fight like that but…Italian? Even in Naples, I asked, what’s the word for fight…”discuss.” No, what’s the word for to fight, “discuss.” Argue. Which is a way of talking.

Right, with my friend, sure, I could have argued, like what are you doing? Quite simply. No argument. I suppose I don’t know why this was necessary. You know.

So I did that based on time bending. I don’t meditate like that anymore, but maybe I should, maybe I should generate that future point in which — but I do, I’m been doing a lot of that, actually, and I feel like I had to stop. A future is what got me through that. That’s what it felt like. I don’t even know what to say about that. At this point. Not because I don’t like where I’m at, this is a landing point.

I haven’t written the Oldest Storyteller yet if that’s the fiction I will write, which I want to, just because it’s good, I think, even me trying to brightly smile at Death, haha, show him the Chelsea. It’s more of a fiction, now, and I have to go on a journey. She doesn’t know what she can do, but I went through a lot, that’s the other thing, in just settling all this. Coming to terms. Coming into a state of awareness. Feeling. After the experience I went through, it was like, I don’t know what to say about my super early years, but he was sick, he was really sick. This was already apparent.

Something isn’t functioning. And I don’t know what to say about what is normal, but I do think that we want to have a sense, you know, a sense, that there is normal. But then, this bothered me, what is actually normal. How normal a condition or problem can appear. I’m not saying that I was totally together, but I am not someone who had a problem, once I dealt with whatever this was. Sort of maddening. I can simply write that, I’m often sort of blown away by how people describe their feelings, “whoa,” alright. I can say how challenging it was to feel, part of that might have had to do with some of the people around me, I don’t know, in that, I spoke to one person. I was rather emotional for a while. Especially when I left LA. I started getting emotional around that time, though even with my friend, since we were close in that way, more so me, but these sorts of — relationships might have brought it out more. I had to pull back. It’s not against them.

Again how relationships develop, all that, it’s a whole thing. Personality type. So dynamics. Also.

That’s the Oldest Storyteller.

Coming to put my life together, deprogramming these four years, dealing with attachment to this story, I had to first, basically, put aside the adopted thing. Not to say it wasn’t true…but…I was sort of missing a point. You know? Most of the time, even, I lived with my father. But these other families really did come into my life, obviously, it’s just, again, it fascinates me what people think is really going on…at what point do you put something together….to bring me back to an earlier point. No, it’s not that, isn’t she the biggest liar, yeah, maybe, but these are what the facts are.

How do you know, and some might pick up on things early, in that, something isn’t quite right here, but how can you comprehend that, sometimes, even if you know that certain problems are rather common? But in this case, my father was sick, so I spent summers and vacations with this other family, as if my parents got divorced and a parent lived somewhere else. This relationship though became — she moved me into college, it developed over time. When you don’t really know what’s going on though, like I did, didn’t, a — I forgot even? I couldn’t even process him going to another doctor like three times. Twice. I don’t know.

That was a major problem. I was the problem. There was no getting close to him. We had our moments. I suppose. But like, on some level, what was this situation? In some regard, I thought about karma. Why am I in this one? Am I strangely obsessed on some soul level with psychology? Come on. I just sort of got here, which is fine, it’s more just — whoosh, there was a lot of basic confusion to work out, people come from all sorts of backgrounds. There was something inherently psychological in my life…maybe it had the ingredients, I guess, due to my sensitivities as well, I suppose, to leave something of value. Maybe I wanted to do something large scale or deal with a particular problem while I was alive, right? Something.

I figured I would start with the major points.

I mean, it made me laugh thinking about “Death” the Oldest Storyteller dealing with a person like this, a child meditating on these concepts, performing a break state at twelve. Time bends. Since this is what I went through and I thought — since it’s generally believed to be true — the probable future section, time bends, what’s possible, where you can go, can’t change he exists, she, they, that ended up inspiring me.

Luckily, regardless, I have friends. I didn’t lose my friends, in a sense, though it evidently changed my life, so I probably struggle with that more so than anything else, I’m just wanting to establish stronger bonds since that affected my life. I am not just that person, to do that. I would never not ask how my friend is doing, I suppose receiving someone’s hard time is fine, except no one really got it. It seemed. Sure, whatever, you know. Alright. I’ll sort of deal with the death, if you would, on my own. People move on before you do. Plus people remained silent around certain words, which was…

Like I don’t know what else I need to say about the basic facts of my life.

Struggling with this, that, so I suppose, on a soul level, one could imagine that certain experiences might just be difficult to let go of in a real way, process, I can imagine that. It terms of what it means to transition, but maybe that’s not true, and it’s random in how we chose to come here, except at four, I got the very clear feeling looking around that I chose this. Is that simply a step in my development, I am here, I am choosing to be here in some way. Maybe. Again, I can fit into a variety of perspectives, which might make it infinite, it’s existence, I mean, truly speaking. At four, my mind was blown already. What is this place? I know I am not alone there.

I thought about that too. Just because maybe it doesn’t matter, maybe I don’t need to go talk to people, go through the body, or all that, but I probably will if not to better support these types of issues, especially if people might get lost, you see, which is unnerving. Like, people don’t understand. That I know. These sorts of problems. And you can totally make it through. That goes for everybody. That might require an evolution which yes, the word is evolution — it’s a strong word. But, now, I’m in very much a new place, I have moments of uncertainty, but that’s about it. I definitely have my moments where I have to spend a little time doing this, generate motivation a little, because it’s a life change.

But then, I get increasingly excited, because now, I could meet someone. I could do that now. I could imagine things I never thought in a totally heartfelt way, and my heart, that might be where I prefer to remain, because it’s more honest and not mind. If I’m wired, in a sense, in a particular way, just by nature of what the facts are, that might be a gift more so than anything else, it’s just I was surprised to feel encouraged to think about my past in the way I do now…the way it might appear. In how I moved through my life…too. The choices I made. I know, I’ll navigate to a future point, a probable future, sure, in which I am no longer in this situation, and then I did it.

Never occurred to me that it wasn’t anything to note, maybe by nature of its disbelief factor, and I cannot deal with that, because that’s just what I did. What it means, do not know, but that’s what I did. I will navigate to that point. I don’t know about now but I was younger, that would probably make you laugh. Just me telling you.

Maybe I can go back to my draft now.

I had a few days of trying to work out some tough spots.

Keep pitching. Keep exercising. A coming up period.

I’m not that concerned about where I’m going…plenty of people publish books. It’s not unfeasible, out of the realm of possibility. But yes, I approached being a writer in a funny way, I think, just the choices I made, “oh the places you’ll go,” and maybe I am finding my way on the road to avoid my destiny. This is a stop. I like it here though, I do, taking a ferry between two continents is symphonic, inspiring, the cityscape is so appealing, the covered hair by the sea, it’s another world, and no, it’s not Arab, it’s Turkey.

I learned that about the United States as well…people really don’t know…anything about some parts of the world. There’s a large population, and the Islamic world is another subject as Catholicism is, you know, but I enjoy the city, even these creams I’m using, and it’s not expensive, which for me, at this time, has been a lifesaver. It’s a good place to start over. I don’t do much these days because I just want to finish my book and figure out this part of my life because I struggled to, nothing wrong with writing for this or that but not my objective and integrating my life has evidently opened new doors within me so I don’t know what means.

Trying to get my operation more productive, which it’s going, and that’s about it.

I could go back to the States and set up shop. That’s what I’m figuring out now. Do I go to England for six months, I mean, why? I’m trying to find a remote job except most of this I don’t care about doing anymore, so pitching, and I’ll get to it, so I can save. That would be ideal. It’s not a bad idea, if you have a remote job, you can travel around for a moment and really save money. Very fascinating big world out there. But you can see it in a variety of ways.

Just being for a moment. That too.

Thanks for reading.

I’m off.