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(now watching As Time Goes By, starring Judy Dench)
The ones who pretend to be insecure characters are the absolute funniest. That’s why the kids who were the most insecure as kids (maybe because they had experienced horrific lives) might grow up to be the worlds’ greatest comedians.
The reason why seeing the world as a kid is the closet to true perceptions, is because for most people being a kid was the closets to the Soul they ever were.
When you’re the soul, when you’re dumb masculinity, you are more sensitive to everything, every sensation, like the way House can be so impressionable, but House can also the be the best pretender.
Both sides of the Wall are each other’s truth and understanding.
I guess that’s why Meryl Streep has always been so hot to me. She must have known Pain. She’s so good at pretending, she’s so creative, she’s a Soul, she’s not pretending to be Real, but a Soul having fun by pretending to be real.
(Watching an episode of Waiting for God about politics)
In Britain the Democrats and Republicans were a bit more bluntly named, they were call the Labor party and the conservative party. The labor who knew they’d always be labor were in the labor party, the ones who thought they could make it to management were conservatives.
Those conservatives had noticed they were smarter, or had such and such reasons that added up to them as meaning they deserved to be management due to survival of the fittest. The weak are supposed to die off, they think.
But the Labor party knows that’s not how you become management. The feudal system, based on heritage and a series of male heirs, had nothing to do with fairness, only the Chaos that is Life.
Maybe it used to be that the best (the bravest) were supposed to live on by having more sex but now it meant that the best (the bravest) had more access to true education than they did the lies of the ones pretending to be Real, so that they can have lots of children and live on, too.
That’s the only way Devils live on. Souls are eternal, regardless, because they’re brave. That’s why I wanted such a hard life, back when I was in the Who Knows, it was the only way to ensure my eternity, to take on the most challenging thing imaginable, and the only way to do that is to accept the chaos -- regardless what I’m literally accepting, regardless of the Story it might be, even transgendered, even if I’m a fly on the wall, no matter what it is -- to jump out of the Who Knows into Life.
The braver I am, the more fun I’m having, the happiest I am. I was born with a big shoot, that’s the most difficult life for a man, the Truest, because from the moment he’s born, everyone’s after him. _Leave me alone!_ I would yell through tears, as A__ was after me, or R__, or Mom, back when I hid in the field under the protection of ghosts.
Old women are pretending to be old women. Old men are pretending to be old men. I’m pretending to be an adult when I’m really a Soul, and it makes me laugh, and Trevor understood, and W___ might one day, or K__, or House, or maybe Sing___ could have understood, but Trevor did, already, so it doesn’t matter now.
Point is, it could’ve been with Sing__ or W__ or K__, they could’ve been pretending, they could’ve been Souls already, and I can imagine or feel what it would’ve been like.
I remember what it was like with Trevor. In that way I experience the sex as an adult, as it was in the Soul place, instead of remembering it as a child all the time, which might make me feel like a pedophile, and make me so insecure as to hurl me back into the nonReal world.
Someone who is funny .. That’s a good sign you’re dealing with a Soul. It’s not set in stone, but let’s say it could be rooted in the fact that the person is a Soul.
A blowjob can be the closest to a penetratee a guy can get, because he’s not Masculine enough (not Soul enough) to handle experiencing the pleasure and challenge of being penetrated. The other person’s teeth and the power of their bite, just right there.
(watching Keeping Up Appearances now)
If I can see them through the eyes of Eros, it’s the same way I saw them as a kid. It’s the way all kids see the world, true, but it ensured my destiny, too, because it ensured an extraordinary challenge, and the most extraordinary challenge is to deserve a high-quality penis, and the most costliest price to pay for deserving a high-quality penis, is to be born with a big penis, because it will hurl you just as close to the Devil as it will the Soul.
Emma Thompson in As You Like It. Another true woman. ‘If that I were a man!_ she yelled, _If only that I were a man!_ [she would commit the murder of another man]. That was her Devil talking. She was just as close to Devil as a big shoot has been (As a Him has been).
The reason it’s harder to do this when I’m not high, is because I had to go that far into the Truth before I could achieve Understanding. No one would sign up for that course, but deep down the ones who have signed up for every other course wish they could’ve had that course. W___ wishes he could’ve had that course, K___ especially, House, too, in his own way, wishes he had a high-quality penis instead of a high-quality face.
Watching these shows, it’s like we’re at K___ Baptist Church during the choir rehearsals, playing pretend in all the empty rooms, and the balcony, where me and Trevor would play sex.
When I get to the high place I remember all stories, and start going too far into the wholeness of my soul (all the lives lived put together, in another words, All Stories) and my story starts to feel made up, excuses start to be made for not analytically making absolute sure of the Truth.
Even so far, there is so much memory, down to the details of the cushions on the pews on the empty balcony, R___ in the choir rehearsals below. So much memory.
(Remembering the two boys, up there in the balcony, doing the best they could, almost seeing Trevor’s face, but then refusing the memory, suddenly frightened.)
And I’m okay with that and I’m okay with that and I’m okay with that, because I’m brave. I can remember it all I can remember it all and no matter what it is, no matter what the Truth is, I’m still true, because I’m still brave.
Maybe the ultimate male fantasy is to have True, good sex with his best friend, if he has one worthy of the title. Trevor was my best friend, and he was worthy of the title.
When I get to the other side, I’ll listen to my instincts and intuition -- I’ll Remember -- and that will keep me Him without my having to be high, and the memories and Remembering is so much easier.
(By the way, Shakespeare’s tragedies were intended by him to be funny.)
I remember Ms Pat__, who had an apartment in K__, and whose husband was a barber and had false teeth. We’d go there on Sunday afternoons sometimes.
Once, he pretended to kiss me first. A whole storyline built around it. A game we’d play, though I’d already raped him. We were playing the pretend games that came after.
I remember the crime of making the first move, and the horror of it, because it could’ve added up to killing him, and did, in a way, but in the end didn’t, because he’s still as close to me as he could get.
He told me he was just right here, and he touched me at night, it was his hand underneath the pillow, squeezing mine, it was his presence managing its way from the other side. I asked Grandma about the hand that would squeeze mine as I slept. She told me it was the hand of God.
My whole life I’ve been getting closer and closer to Sundays. The house, the rural area, the small town, the masculinity and remembering. My present life has been trying to jog my memory more and more.
If I was to have sex with someone now, even if it was someone I didn’t know or had just met, what would make me hard as a rock and as good at sex as sex gets, would be the words in my mind saying: _Maybe this person’s brave, maybe this person’s brave enough to trust me, right off the bat._