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Now I’m watching Are You Being Served, not watching in the usual way, but in the new way where it’s about remembering and recognizing the way they‘re saying it.
See that’s what’s funny, that’s what’s fun -- pretending -- in Real life the people who are pretending the most are the most fun. I had a hard time pretending because I kept laughing so much .. I knew that acting gay was as funny as it got, so I seduced mom that way, knew how to keep her laughing.
That’s how I experienced getting people to like me -- seducing them. I didn’t know yet that what we were doing was wrong. I didn’t know until Trevor(?) died.
(I pull out of the trance a little, because I’m so close to the memory of Trevor and I had already decided I didn’t want to remember.)
Maybe you’ve had enough. No, never enough, I’m way too old, lost way too much time already. Fine. Trevor came to live with us. I remember, it seemed to have something to do with Mom‘s sister.
He was the kid Mom and R___ got when they were always going to those Social services meetings. He came over on Sundays.
R__ would play with us alone. He then had to come up with the Sunday thing so it could seem normal. He talked Mom into it, so that she had to get us on Saturdays. He hung out with H__ and A__ begrudgingly and they were jealous of me.
It was on those afternoons, when R__ was out with A__ and H__ instead of me and Trevor, that Me and Trevor would play sex.
When R__ was present, I took the bulk of the abuse. When R__ would decide to rape, I tried to protect Trevor, and would cry, even in front of Trevor as R__ would pound into me. I would cry and cry and Trevor would cry too, and we’d look at each other’s eyes, and nothing else, as R__ kept on and on, thrusting, laughing.
I loved Trevor and he loved me, like brothers but more. I showed him what sex was, then R__ discovered us, then he started playing with us. He thought it was funny I had f-cked Trevor. He thought the whole thing was hilarious.
It seems like this is my imagination, except I can see R__ and A__ and H___ and can almost see Trevor, except that I was in the Soul place, so I saw him as all boys, all hair colors, all eye colors, so I know it’s not imagination, no one can imagine this well. It feels like it’s happening to me, has already happened to me.
I had forgotten what A__ and H__ looked like back then, and R__, and Mom. All this happened in the living room, on Sundays. That’s why Sunday has always been such a different day for me, looking totally different, smelling totally different, everything was better on Sundays, because that was they day I played with Trevor.
Mom had already forgiven herself by then, by the time they were going to meetings at social services, that’s why she thought she was now the world’s greatest Mom, because she had already been to her own wall, her own crime, her own hell and back.
When R___ discovered me and Trevor, it made him laugh as we cried. I almost inherited his sick sense of humor, finding it funny when babies cried, but then caught myself, wondered about my own evil.
That’s why Mom hated me. I had brought the crime back when God had already forgiven her and R__. Mom was better than A__, she had faced her wall and chosen to die if that was the price for remembering Reality.
I ruined her, bringing the crime back, making Mom think God was really punishing her this time, her feeling the unfairness of it, of His punishment, she became embittered toward God.
Over time she truly hated me. She had already hated me once for not getting all the way hard for her when I was a baby and toddler. It seems like a lot to happen in only two or three years. But I forget how long a year is.
Look how much happens in the years I’ve written down, like the deployment or the year before deployment. All this happened, day by day, month by month, that’s how good my memory is when I get really relaxed, and I have twenty seven years of experience to fortify me.
(That’s why I wanted a hard life, was okay with having a hard life, I just didn’t understand why it would make me happy to be so brave.)
I learned about bravery when it began to make me laugh, R__ penetrating me but me still being a penetrator, not only that but I knew I knew more about sex than he did, and that made me laugh too, I just didn’t understand the truth of it, because I was such a little boy, with only three years of experience.
(still watching old British comedies) That’s why stupid funny, bad plots, etc, is still funny, because it’s not about the Story, it’s about the How. .. The things I learned over those twenty seven years -- how to articulate honestly -- is why I can do this, why I can get high, and never come down, never become a stoner like House, because what I write will still be with me on the other side (the not high side) where everything is even more physical, more dangerous, everything, including death, feels scary.
I know enough to trust my own words (_Abstract thought is where it’s at,_ K___ had told me.)
That’s the value of twenty seven years. Not bad, it only took twenty seven years to get to my soul -- and I had the difficult path -- maybe it was the easiest path to my soul. Just as much as that is true, so is the idea that is was also the easiest path to my devil.
By my doing so well, I make time more valuable, like it was in the old days when at fourteen girls were mothers and boys fathers, back when the life expectancy of human beings was the upper twenties.
That’s the future, as the world becomes more and more uninhabitable -- that’s evolvement. All these Souls, dying and being born, over and over, in the Who Knows and back out, adding up to sheer chaos .. is the Earths gift. All these souls are creating Art, creating the Divine, incidentally, as they are at their play, otherwise known as Life. Earth is the Masterpiece of the universe.
Mesmorizingly Art.