Northward Midget Pole to Pole

About

Author snarling at camera held in outstretched left arm, wearing brown seude womens jacket with fur-lined hood over a red t-shirt with black Dungeons and Dragons design.

Selfie-as-mirror while shopping Tyler Durden style in the "Womens Outerwear" department of the Walden Amvets.

I'm a father and recovering ex-husband.  I've been diagnosed as having depression with anxiety, maybe an attention-deficit disorder or two, perhaps narcissistic, and possibly something called "depersonalisation disorder".  That last one is the most recent psychological verdict, and more a clinical aid than a diagnosis.  It's a sort of "sociopathy lite".  Nobody who knows sociopathy believes I'm a sociopath.  Everyone who doesn't know, well, they usually prefer "psychopath".  I'm not.

Northward Midget began as a creative outlet, then a cathartic receptacle for true-life tales of my separation travails through the New York "Family" court system, then reassembly instructions, and now just somewhere to throw words into the Empty.

The blog title is a twist on an anagram for some thing that no longer exists.  No offense is meant to little people.

The password to password-protected posts is what Dennis Hopper called Christopher Walken.

Comments are enabled.  Apparently they don't work, or I just don't get many.  Please keep them on topic.  I'll only delete obvious spam and stuff that's just not relevant to the post.   If you have something personal to communicate to me, don't do it in a comment.  Email to quinnfazigu@gmail.com.