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(Next morning, or rather afternoon, Feb 22, 2010.)

A Difficult part is that the more I remember the farther away Trevor and all the Good is.
When it gets Difficult -- these new old memories -- I then feel drawn to focusing on Pride, and there Him is, the true me.
I guess that’s how it will always be, whenever I start wondering what the Truth is, I just look for Him, and there the truth of me, of how I feel, of who I am, there it is.
It was the only way to make the rapes stop. As long as I was a good liar, I was okay, but if it ever became true, that I wasn’t Him anymore, that was what decided if I had persevered or not.
Hence, all this, hence the first time I got high, I felt like such a liar when I remembered. That’s because I did lie. The old slave narratives taught me how. Live in the Lion’s Mouth.
My immediate family had secured their getting away with their crimes by Abusing me to the point of impossibility.
That’s what the UnReal world had founded its existence on since the beginning, the idea that the Truth was impossible.
But Ralph Ellison taught me well. That’s the connection to Invisible Man, that’s why it’s my favorite book. It proved that the waking world wasn’t Real either. Only I am Real. And of course Souls are invisible.
I wonder to myself, since I’m stuck here, (can’t go out until I know what House’s up to, I don’t want to leave him alone in the log cabin) -- I wonder if I should get high again.
I think to myself that maybe that isn’t such a good idea, maybe my psyche can’t handle so much at once.
No, it can, I’m strong, I’m brave. This is the whole point of this. Getting to Him. Getting to the other side.
I feel the pull to Realness, even when not inebriated. It’s the same music, the same routine that pulls me, only it pulls me in the opposite direction now.
I grow up to be Mel__ for awhile -- the first person to try to call me son -- that’s why I started with him. Like the way most kids start with their Dad.
That’s why I would go a long time without showering or eating -- a certain depression -- the Real me was trying to prove something to me.
I’m a Soul, not a body.

__________

　
22FEB2010 Afternoon.

I feel like I don’t deserve to be so masculine because I’ll surpass everyone else and how can it be that I deserve that? Because you’re Brave.
And always were.
And always will be for eternity.
I’ve paid the costs for it, I have nothing to prove. Jesus Christ could be real, and he could come down and I’d still look him straight in the eye.
Sometimes I feel like an old man, because the love of my life died such a long time ago.
One reason why I got so quiet after the rapes ended, was that they were afraid of what I knew in the silence and I could sense this from them. Meanwhile, sometimes, so was I.
I know how House feels -- everyone always after him sexually. He thinks he’s making life work for him by allowing the sex, despite it’s lack of trust. Really his strong sexual urges are desperation. He needs to be allowed the sex even though he’s not a Real Him.
I remember kissing El__ and her nipples especially. I remember having sex with her. El__, the girl they had as my playmate. They thought by keeping me around girls, instead of a boy like Trevor, maybe my sexuality would go dormant for awhile.
Mom then silently approved of R__ raping me in the bathroom every night, because it seemed to her the only way to make things right, to undo the sin she felt had already been forgiven by God.
(Seeing a sign reminding me I still needed to do my taxes.)
It seems frightening to have so much to do, having to juggle so much, with so much on me, shifting and all. It
feels like a game I’m winning. It feels fun.

__________

　
Evening of the 22^nd.

　
I’m noticing that I’m quick to get pissed. Starting with the rude incompetence of the Verizon store and ending as always with House and his girlfriend.
I didn’t know House was desperate. I thought for someone so attractive he must be as easily Him as anyone.

__________


High, night of 22FEB2010, on red pills, thinking it might bring more memories back, concerning the boy’s death.
So now that I’ve remembered so much, and processed so much, what now, now what do you want to do when the red pills didn’t work and here I am high, ripe for the next task?
Life is but a Dream. Get used to it. That’s what makes sex so great: the Realness of it. Every hair, every muscle, every inch of skin.
I really thought I had committed a crime, I didn’t know about the Soul Place. I’m not mad at the boy I am but the boy was afraid I would be, because I asked him in that way, I asked him, What did you do? What did you do? Just tell me. I murdered Trevor, he wanted to say, but then never did, because it wasn’t true.
I really like being high and watching TV. I can see everything in a whole new way.
Some people don’t understand that when I get high I just go back to being Real -- no anxiety. Maybe when they get high they go somewhere else.
This is the second night of no sleep.
(Going into my head) I remember the blanket now, it’s exact fibers, it was beige with maybe a little pink.
Mom’s naked body would be in front of me, and R__’s behind me, but they’re asleep, and I’m in the little room that’s made by the blanket between them, and there’s the two guys from Flight of the Chonchords, doing a jig, looking around, making rude comments about my mom’s vagina and R__’s penis, which are both Right There, and they’re making me laugh, the two of them, looking me in the eyes and making me laugh with their New Zealand accents.
I remember the building at Fort ___ accosting me, and how House laughed when I told him that building was saying something important to me.
The building was saying: You Know you Know.
There’s a connection there, one that connects me to that building, to Nature, to the Soul place. One I don’t have to be high to have.
It would really piss me off to have to do chores and work as a kid because I was already having sex so it all seemed so unnecessary.
See that’s the thing, people don’t like to catch you in the soul place, all spaced out like a heroin addict, they think it’s cheating, you’re supposed to be Him, in the moment, sheer dumb masculinity.
Yeah but they hurt me because I had a big penis. They hurt me, so more was required.
I might be like a devil to them, encouraging them to believe their own lies. Pretending to be dumb masculinity but really I’ve got a third eye watching, and it ain’t dumb. It’s known pain. It’s evolved. It took notes, just in case He might need them.
I know my real name: Brave. And if someone in this world realizes that’s my name, well, that person is probably going to be real important to me ‘cause they had to have realized it on their own, ‘cause I ain’t sayin nothin.
What if I’m not even an energy I’m actually just a concept. What if I really was Bravery, literally, like one of the Greek Gods.
Also what this means is that I’ve moved beyond good weed. I can handle a pill trip while on good weed and will do that for now on if I need to Remember again.
Actually, I like this trip a lot more than the weed one. This high is stronger, more adventurous. It takes a lot of expensive weed to get me that free of my own defenses if I didn’t have access to the pills.
I feel like it’s not the memories I need now, but the Soul Place, the place where Trevor and me were when we were having sex, the place where that speaking building at Fort Stewert stands.
I have to learn how to sleep. Otherwise I’ll be on day 3 tomorrow and it’s three in the morning now.
(Watching The Children’s Hour starring Audrey Hepburn)
I used to dream about the dead place, the Soul Place, I still do even, I just dream about it as a dead city instead, where everything is dead.
My Youth was over the moment I became conscious because I was already having sex, then I penetrated Trevor and therefore killed him too,
Those dreams used to haunt me.

__________