4

Night 25FEB2010

I can’t get drunk, I can’t even get a buzz. I’ve drank three bottles of red wine in about three hours and nothing. I can now drive drunk, it turns out, and operate heavy machinery. And I do.
It used to be that when I drank I would wonder about myself because I always would start to pretend to be drunk after a few drinks; I guess because I was afraid of this rememory place. Now when I drink I simply hear my heart beat more and more, louder and louder, til it turns into this loud vibration in my ears, like a hum or a whirl.
Whenever I get high I go down the same path, to the place with the whirl, except I also get the vibration in my eyes, so that they feel like my eyeballs are swinging back and forth, left and right, along with the vibration and its humming sound.
If I concentrate on the Real, the swing stops, and I can drive, and I can operate machinery, I can cook, and I can clean up broken glass on the floor, no problem.
But if I can’t recognize the Real, if I don’t follow the rules I made so I could navigate through the shifting from one Awake Dream after another, then my eyesight goes the other way, and the high or drunkness results in my making something of a fool of myself, then passing out somewhere.
The memories are so strong, I love it, I just want to get higher and higher, drink more and more, heavier and heavier. Now I do them at the same time, navigating my way through the awake dreams, which are really memories tucked away by little-boy imagination.
I can recognize what is true, so I can shift forward into the memories. Just like I used to do with the dreams and nightmares before the rememories. I would notice something untrue in the dream, or I would notice a certain path that made my heart beat strongly, as if I was extremely afraid, and I would know that this is the correct path, and I would shift dreams, Melt into another dream, till the final dream contained so little imagination, and so much memory, I would feel like I almost have it, I’m almost all the way there again, I can almost remember, but then I’d wake up. I called it Melting, Melting my way through Dreams, shifting from a true-ish dream to a truer dream, over and over.
Now that I can dream while awake, now that I can close my eyes and see the memories on the other side of my eye lids, just like a dream, like I’m in it, not like I’m watching it, now that I can do that I lay a hand on my chest, to make sure my heart is always beating, so that it’s not like that first night I got high and died into the wall.
I remember and remember and remember, and I drink, and take pills, and I drink cough syrup, and I hit the bong with House, who seems to have little idea how I’m navigating through all the worlds, shifting successfully, opening my eyes to his comment, grunting a response, then closing them, and seeing Trevor in the church balcony, us playing, chasing each other through and around the empty pews.
And El__, and how I would sleep with her, playing with her nipples, because once R__ caught me and Trevor, him and Mom thought my sexuality was only gay, and therefore they started only giving me girl playmates, so I wouldn’t expose their crime. But I was having sex with Ell__, they just didn’t know.

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