Watching tv. I was feeling dazed and dreamy. I would turn over into odd postures, sometimes especially upside down. I was trying to think things. But ...hings are fickle and thoughts are slippery. What stuck was my brother telling me about his rogue friend. They called Shamboo, after the comic character Shikari shambu. I had heard of his exploits. He would lure his naive girlfriends to go with him to the botanical gardens. He is a slimy lecherous low-life. I hate him. I knew I hated him. Then why. I'd been in no real danger from Charlie's manipulation of my memories. I realized that from her very first effort. I could tell it wasn't real. Why I was able to make that distinction is something I'm still not quite sure of, but I think it's because I couldn't feel anything from anyone. That simple fact made everything else so two dimensional that her illusions were more like walking thru a life sized pop-up book than anything else. That and my unwillingness to go back and relive my past. Not. More

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