Never
Recorded
Trinidad to the Bronx, and the parts that never made it to memory.
Whatever happened next isn’t lost. It was just never recorded in the first place. Traumatic memory is rarely a clean recording — it is fragments with holes between them, and the holes are part of the injury, not a failure of recall. This is what happens when you go into the missing parts on purpose and render them where you can see them.
How This Is Being Released
The memoir is being published out of order, in pieces, as each chapter is rendered. When it is complete it will be released together with a book. Chapters already published are below. The rest are being written.
Chapters
A doorstop, a scream in an elevator, two booms down a stairwell, and a memory that stops mid-schoolyard. The Bronx, 1980s. I was eight.
Further chapters will appear here as they are published.
Why It’s Rendered This Way
It was never recorded. So I rendered it.
That sentence is the whole reason the rest of this site exists. Using AI to render internal experience into something you can look at — rather than only feel — is what I named the User Singularity. The imbalance that makes it work, and the practice of sourcing the half of your thinking you don’t have, are defined in the glossary.