4

(watching channel 30 where all the preachers are)
It’s the ones who pretend so much they must be telling the truth, that’s what these preachers are, that’s what people mistake for prophets, the fiery, yelling on soap box, passionate beyond passionate, selling fake medicine off a wagon to unsuspecting townspeople or preaching a new gospel, either way, same guy.
My whole life is in the Soul place, that’s why I live in the past, which began in the Soul place due to the impossibility of its horrific-ness.
I was forced into the Soul place, to the point that my future was forced into the Soul place. Good job, soul, for ensuring my Bravery, ensuring my happiness, knowing what makes me happy is my heart physically pounding with adrenaline/anxiety, yet I’m calm as dumb.
All having imagination means is having an open mind. Open enough to know and remember the truth.
The secret is to REMEMBER, not to FIGURE OUT. Which turns out to be to opposite directions. One is into the moment, into the Soul, the other is every other direction.
(flipping channels in the middle of the night and early morning)
I saw a little boy in a commercial and thought Trevor was that good looking. And I thought about the attraction implied by noticing he was good looking, and then Remembering that I was the same age as Trevor, so that makes it okay. (It makes it okay to have enjoyed the world that much so early on.) (It’s okay to have become Aware so early on.)
(Watching a civil war documentary focused on Gettysburg.)
There is an old woman reciting something. I think look how ugly she is, but suddenly I instead think look how Real she is. The boy I was, the Him I was, found everything beautiful like that, found everything so Real, so Real I could almost feel the Earth turn.
I want to go back and watch all those favorite movies. I want to rejoin NetFlix and rewatch all those films and retake all those notes.
The notes I did take were all of truth. The notes fortify me so that I can trust I’ll always stay Him, without having to be high or even pleased. By doing so I can ensure myself through the hard times, and I can articulate the answer when asked an important question by, say, W__, or K__, or House.
I don’t see how I’m unlocking so many memories if this stuff isn’t true.
I could take anything and I could do anything, I was that big, I was that Him, no matter what scenario, no matter what situation, I could find it sexy, I could see its beauty through the eyes of sex.
No matter whom, no matter how, as a boy, I could have consented to sex with most people.
I remember the community college Mom went to before the four year one. I remember the house of the woman who’d watch us sometimes.
I remember T___, the woman who had a kind of day care, I remember the cups she’d have us drink out of, and the day H___ was allowed to wash dishes, and I remember the back yard, and the baby in the swing that I couldn’t figure out though I watched it for at least an hour until Mom came back in the green car to pick us up and drive us back to the Johnston House in God‘s Country.
I remember the house back then. We used the door in front, before it was turned into a large window. The shoe rack is to the right, it was an old house, the floors wooden, the rooms big and the ceilings high, like the house at the end of the film Away We Go accept without the water front.
The grass was so cool everything all green, until it got cold, really cold, to the point the water wouldn’t boil and Mom didn’t know what she was going to do, she was arguing to dad, that he needed to do something, but she had gotten a loser for a husband, because that’s what she deserved, and he had gotten a cold b-tch for a wife, because that’s what he had deserved.
But the house was great, my future room was a storage room, full of old, dusty stuff, stuff Mom had not unpacked yet from the move. I liked the shop, all its secret places, including the little closet in back, it would’ve been a big, nice room.
I loved the idea of a fixer upper house, because everything was hopeful, like the house in It’s a Wonderful life, all the leaks, all the green, all the storms and nature and then Smokey that night during the storm and two men like the rural men around here and a truck and Smokey goes into the shop.
It’s him who stops Mom and R__, barking at them and growling, me in the corner, not understanding. It’s me who feels accosted by Smokey, especially sense the sex was so strong, me outside their bedroom door, moving back and forth like they would have me do.
Smokey’s snarling, me in the corner of the room which was actually a closet, Mom’s cotton summer dresses hanging above me. Smokey, an enormous beast to me at the time, a black German Shepherd.
Mom forgave herself, R__ didn’t care much, plus he hated me, and had been raping me, I guess because he didn’t really know what else to do. R__ was lazy, he just was, this is all back then, way back when the house was new to me ..
I remember the swimming pool at the Chinese restaurant. It was actually the hotel’s swimming pool, which had a Chinese restaurant beside it. I remember all the bodies, and all the good looking young male bodies, I thought they looked sexy, and wished for one of my own, but would‘ve settled for the moment by getting to f-ck them, or at least them f-cking me. What was wrong with me?
All the trouble I’d always been, I would easily forget about, it wasn’t until Trevor that he started telling me it wasn’t feasible,
It’s like, by remembering, it makes my life longer, and the more I remember, the more time I get back, the more I slow down time in the present.
(watching a Ken Burns documentary involving photographs of people out on the American Plains in the 1880s.)
I can feel the high pulling me forward this time, into the TV, recognizing everything to awareness. So this is why I love documentaries.
I remember the blond pediatrician in K__ who Mom would take me to for checkups. I remember the details of the day, I remember the way the office looked, so Eighties. I remember the Native American festival we went to as a ‘family’ . I remember that day, and I remember we got their in Mom’s car because R__’s truck was in the shop. It seemed like his truck had been dead for years, but then he got enough money to have it brought back to life and we had it back again.
I remember B__, K__’s husband, K__ being R__’s sister, my aunt, him always offering to R__ that he would buy his truck, but R__ always said no, he liked that B__ wanting something of his, even thought B__ was kind of a loser.
I didn’t want to be like any of these people. K__ was nice, she was real nice actually, and pretty, and her son Billy was nice to me. I actually loved Billy, he was one of the few boys in our family. I loved loved Billy, but he didn’t notice me much, because I was a little kid.
I remember the cookout and how he would play Frisbee with me and he broke mine because it was cheap and plastic and then he gave me his and it was so great and me and A__ would play with the Frisbee I wish I still had it I loved that Frisbee loved it loved it loved it, just like how little boys love things.
I loved Grandpa, R__’s dad. He laughed sometimes, and he got angry sometimes. It was K__ and C___, R__’s two sisters with basically the same name. That’s funny. D__, R__’s brother was kind of weird too, all the boys on that side, except for Grandpa Billy and then his grandson, Billy, who was in his twenties at the time and who didn’t actually have ..
　
I love my life. I love life. As long as I am Brave.
__________