I remember walking home on an autumn afternoon in 1974 perhaps, and feeling that I was the most unfortunate boy on earth. It was very clear to me that I had no chance to get anywhere, I felt completely abandoned, it was really an incredibly overwhelmingly sad feeling. There was not a tiny piece of hope left in me.
I cried. Though I cried a lot and often then.

I tend to combine this seemingly random memory of me walking home crying from pure desperation with the one of seeing a cat that had survived being set on fire.
The cat had only patches of green fur left on its body also the tail was half torn off, the ending dark red, a part of a bone sticking out of the dried and shriveled skin.
The animal avoided me. Clearly it had not been tortured by other cats.

I remember the exact location where all these thoughts collapsed over my head. Maybe the memories are combined because they were triggered near the same building, just a block away from Wielkopolska Street, 17, where we lived.

There were no mistreated animals here today, the city was New York, it is 30 years later, but the overwhelming feeling of helplessness was on the edge of more I could possibly handle.

Maybe what I am feeling is the presence of a negative force?… Maybe I am soaking up some crazy horrible something?

I am feeling as if I were in the absolutely wrong place right now. Completely wrong. All wrong.
Yes, about as bad as it felt when I saw that cat.

Maybe some of the feelings that flow through me are not even my own?… Maybe I am just like a detector of forces?…

That would be a really horrible discovery.