3

(Monday)
　
Woke from a dream where I have sex with a male Hollywood celebrity.
In a way it’s a fight, because each wants to penetrate the other, each wants to do what they want, and in the other way, it’s about love, because you always keep the other person in mind, allowing them to do what they want to, to the point of penetration and death, (because you’re not afraid of death, because you’re already your soul, no need to have a child or a womb, you’re eternal), and the two put together is the sex, the giving and taking, the rhythm of it. That’s sex.
Maybe sex with a woman is boring in comparison, because she can’t penetrate back. Meanwhile, women are gorgeous and brave and can make a man forget.
_What do you want from me?_ I whisper to him, nervous as his kisses begin to feel less like acting and more like it’s for Real.
He looks vulnerable, squints his eyes even, at the blunt question and its blunt answer. _I want you to f-ck me,_ he whispers with desperation. _I want you to f-ck my brains out. All you have to do is believe me. I want you to do what you want, and stop f-cking holding back. I’m in love with you, and it’s Real. I’m strong, you’re not going to hurt me. I catch your eyes, I catch you noticing me, I know you want me. I’m not some whore who’ll just let you do whatever you want to me, I’m in love with you, that’s why I’ll let you do whatever you want to to me. And after you f-ck me, I‘m going to f-ck your brains out, because I know you‘re strong enough to take my want, too._
(in the hammock, during sunset)
Things that get me high: doing what I want, sex itself, writing truth ..
(looking up at the trees, feeling like I am still in the yard of the Johnston House)
I can go back into the past whenever I want. I didn’t know the past could be forever. I can be a boy forever. I am a boy forever. I simply grew up to be Him -- but the soul (the silence inside) stays the same forever.
There’s no such thing as ‘growing up.‘ There’s simply the fight to remain true. The boy didn’t have a voice in his head (remember?) just intuition and instincts and a unique way of perceiving and feeling my own presence ..
Maybe I get to be the boy forever because I was always having sex, one of my first memories is of my having sex. Maybe it’s because I’m grown now but being a boy feels so new, his story, his emotions. Since I’m already a soul (grown), I get to spend the rest of my life in that new place.
Maybe you start out a soul, then become an animal (no voice in the head), then if you can accomplish it, you will learn the words, and become a human being enough to interact with the other human beings. All being a human being is, is the connecting with each other. Animals procreate, Souls, sustain, and humans -- communicate.

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(Monday night, the second Jonathon remembrance fresh)
Shaking, fear -- suddenly frightened of unknown sounds, etc. -- I cried on the floor after the day long dream. Just because I’m so relieved to remember and not be numb and feel proud of how far I am into the truth, doesn’t mean that I felt the twenty-seven year-old’s emotions back then.
When I was a boy, I felt these other emotions -- fear, the shaking, the crying from somewhere below the rib cage. Since I am a boy forever these emotions of the boy’s are strong and inescapable.
So I have the shakes, am a bit jumpy, and my heart keeps pounding. That’s okay. I’m still okay behind it.
As a kid I had night terrors. My chest would hurt from pounding with fear day after day, night after night.

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(Tuesday)
　
Woke from another dream full of secrets. It begins in this kind of warehouse where outside is a war between the US and Iraq. I’m not really in it, I’m just there, with W___.
Days go by, and the logistics of living in the warehouse make up the dream. I notice in the dream how I don’t have a weapon of any kind, and wonder about my being in the war.
W___ wants to start working out regularly in the little gym set up in the corner. We agree to start in the early morning. I agree to meet him there.
Turns out outside the warehouse is the House’s yard. Two trees fall, in the early morning, as I make my way across the yard, to the warehouse’s gym to meet W___. The first one is small, and almost seems to be an indoor tree, it is so well positioned and spaced among the rest of the vegetations and the House.
The next tree is scarier when it falls, the fall is darker, bigger, and is a tree in the side yard, not the China berry tree, but maybe a young, thinner pecan tree, not like the ones I had known.
I awoke unnaturally, from the phone ringing. But as I awoke I had a strong feeling I could make out the secrets. The dream was signifying the time period of the first gulf war, when I was still a little boy.
I don’t know what the young and older tree dying signifies but I seemed to almost know just as I was waking. I don’t know what this dream was trying to get me to remember.
House’s gone. He came by, got his stuff, and left without saying hardly a word, not to mention goodbye. I chose not to say anything either. I went upstairs and fell asleep. In the dream I slept with K___, then I awoke and wondered about it.
I allowed the fact that I can save any relationship, if only I wanted to -- by speaking. It’s the do-I- want-to part that I reckon with. I didn’t want to save the relationship with House, because I saw that he wasn’t worth knowing right now.
I wondered about my relationship with K___ and W___, and saw that my speaking so assertively and honestly wasn’t worth the trouble in those relationships either.
Neither one really truly cares about me. Also I notice their bad women, and remember how in the end that’s the only way to judge a man, by the kind of people he attracts.
In a way a friendship is a competition; throughout the friendship it remains undecided which friend is in love, and which is the Him.
Maybe I know how Jesus felt in the Garden, the night before his crucifixion ordeal would begin.
He begged to be spared the burden of actually performing the deed he had already decided to accomplish.
That’s how I feel about writing, remembering, coming all the way True. I seem to beg for any escape, but still remain brave.
My first idea that sex was innocent turned out to be wrong. Then my second idea that numbness was innocent, turned out to be wrong. It would take years of notes to make sense of that. To bring me all the way back to the first moment of consciousness.
So I’ve come of age .. Again. I don’t understand how that works. If I started having sex as a baby, then that’s when I came of age, hence I’m the baby boy -- actually the soul in the soul-place -- forever.
So then I came of age a second time? Is death like coming of age? Another rush into a new existence? Like how it felt to be born, and how it felt to lose one’s virginity?
And if I had come of age at any other time, when I still wasn’t Him yet, then I would have been that other-than-Him forever? Maybe Him doesn’t change. Maybe all hims have always been Hims.
It’s what coming of age means, it’s accepting, it’s where the mind and body come together. I refused to settle, and became Him first, before I came of age again. These words make it come across like I had control of the situation, when really I couldn’t remember, and it was a delicate sequence of events that caused the rememory.
K__ is a lot like Jonathon, the military a lot like the Johnston House, the House I live in now, in the rural South, is a lot God’s Country. I would’ve remembered at some point, but the timing was out of my control.
I guess that’s what Awareness is, coming of age in every moment. Opening your eyes and taking it in innocently, each and every moment. I couldn’t come of age the second time without remembering the first time.
Maybe it works like this: Just like the first time you get high, the age that you first have sex is the age you stay, psyche-wise, pretty much forever.
The younger you are, the closer you are to the boy -- the closer you are to your soul. Meanwhile I’ve met the kids who were getting high at really young ages, many grow up to be fools.
My coming of age sexually so young kept me in trouble; after Trevor died I was still following pretty women in malls, still staring at girls when I was in elementary school -- I was coming out ‘weird.’
It had to be shut off, I had to be shut down, and I would have to come of age a second time in order to become Him.
Maybe.

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