II have died many times before my death.Long ago, in another lifetimeI learned to be what I am not.My thoughts are hallucinatory,broken sounds and refracted imagesthat drift through my mind like shadowsdancing on dimly lit walls.I sit shackled, hunting for significancein grey blurs that float byin endless streams of repetition.I want to find a new wordfor my life,I am tired of the old one.I want to re...