AMNESIA

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I’ve been with exactly 33 Women in my life, no one-night stands, I know the first and last name of every woman I’ve ever seen and felt naked. Two of those women… the mother of my son, and my first wife… were jaw-droppingly destructive, but so different from one another in presentation and methodology that experiencing the first was no inoculation against falling for the second. All I can do is thank Coincidence (and a salmon-like determination on my part) that I found and mated with my second Wife, who is also my Final Wife, which takes me out of the Dangerous Game. Because, really, beyond a handful of easily-spotted red flags that only amateurs put on display, you never know. The so-called Battle of the Sexes is Russian Roulette with a two-headed gun for all genders. Maybe it’s the awful pressures and contradictions of late-model, psycho-driven Capitalism? The lethal ones have their presentations burnished to a mirror-hard seductiveness. You can’t help wanting to touch. So smooth… so… reflective. You think you’re getting Heaven but, of course, what you’re really sticking your bits into are the jaws of sexy Hades. I was just cute enough to get myself into lots of trouble.

And I always had a chivalrous, self-abnegating, crypto-arrogant Savior Complex on top of it.

Out of 33 women, half a dozen were amazing, most were beautiful mismatches (sweet memories and/or great stories), one was THE ONE, one was a nightmare and one was a nightmare I will remain connected to the rest of my life. Which isn’t bad, statistically.

But what can one do about the nightmares? The best thing would be… forgetting. Because all I learned, from the two nightmares, after the fact (after the traps slammed shut), each time, was that I’d made a profound mistake and I was going to pay for it. Dancing that fire-dance. A little AMNESIA would be just the thing… and I caught the bright germ of this song while thinking about my Godzilla-esque first wife as I was walking by a famous Absinthe Shop, at Schönehauser Allee 42 in Berlin…

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