Share '#14 - Entry 1...The Rough Draft of My Autobiography'

My earliest memory is one of me climbing out of my crib in the middle of the night to sleep in my parent's bed. It sounds innocent and meaningless, and it probably is on the surface. Yet, I can't help to give meaning to it. In a sense, it symbolizes the spirit that I have: I was told to stay in my crib. I was supposed to be afraid of the darkness that characterizes the middle of the night. I wa...