20FEB2010
Now that I have my whole self at my disposal, instead of so much of myself being locked in unmemory, I feel an enjoyment of being capable, and being earthy enough to accept reality: like dishes need to be washed, food needs to be cooked, the pipes and filters need to be fixed and I enjoyed all my capabilities and their Realness.
It culminated most recently in me fixing the sink upstairs, which had never worked so I simply never used that bathroom. It took all day of me taking it apart, putting it back together, figuring out what each piece did -- or was supposed to do -- and now it works just fine.
I’ve been high a lot, and taking notes, because the classes have no review, just keep moving forward, and I’m trying to catch up. Each new memory shows up at first very strong, to the point of being a flashback, but afterwards the memory loses its power and I have to concentrate to actually be there again.
I’m on a long drive to J__’s house, to help his family move his daughter.
I still find it wondrous that I was on such a trip for so long, fueled by a necessary denial which I mistook for amnesia.
I didn’t murder Trevor. Turns out I didn’t murder Trevor. Everyone’s on their own trip. Few get off.
When I’m on the pills, there will be a warm place, I can’t tell if it’s warm or if it’s stinging, yesterday it was my right thigh, now it’s my elbow. It will be like this for hours.
__________
(getting high night of Feb 21)
I thought about how things would have gone with Sing___, my first battle buddy in the military, if I had been my soul instead of the numbed out ego.
I could’ve had sex with Sing___? I wonder. I understand that in all scenarios -- other than incest, etc. -- sex -- or love -- is what is intended by Life. So the answer, in Reality, is yes. Sing____ had a lot of pain, so it was right to let him have control, I never tried to manipulate him, never intended to make a move on him. That’s why he stayed in my shadow, for the protection. Sex might be assumed, but the Soul chooses its own path.
House is smarter than me, he‘s pretending, and knows it. He knows he’s a soul, he knows if he pretends well enough, he’ll pass as Him.
Point is, I don’t want to be pretending. If that’s what’s required it’s not love. I want to be in love with another Soul, not a penetratee, that’s what me and Trevor had.
It was about Trust instead of Material, there wasn’t a bit of pretending. It was Real. I was Real, Tre was Real, and the vast majority aren’t, the vast majority commit crimes like Mom or R___ did and have to Pretend to be Real instead.
I don’t know if it’s possible to have what me and Tre had with a woman. I know the idea exists that’s why lesbians are so hot to men. That’s why the type of girls who are ‘one of the guys’ and who are independent and take care of themselves are so hot to guys, because of the fantasy that we could all be penetrators.
Am I pretending? Couldn’t I be making all this up right now? No, because the memories are too sharp, too detailed, too Real. I had no memory on the other side. I was the farthest away from what it was like to be a kid.
(Since most people are not raped as a kid, they have little need to be their Soul instead of their Devil, and being a kid really is as close to their Soul as they’ll ever get, and they’ll accept that, and leave it to their children to figure out how to be their Soul instead of their Devil.)
(Watching PBS, the show Eastenders, waiting for the British comedies to start.)
When I was a kid, I knew the world was already dead, so I never wanted to grow up. I didn‘t see the point, if I was already having sex.
(I unmute the TV.)
Who cares what they’re saying, or what’s going on. I don’t care; I care about the way they’re saying it, how I recognize these adults from childhood, the adults looked like this. I was me, my soul, knowing sex inside and out, and watching the adults as if they were aliens.
I honestly didn’t know that adults had sex with each other. In my mind adults wanted to have sex with a kid, but couldn’t, because I didn’t want to nor did Trever.
This memory is another example of why I didn’t want to remember this far, because it freaks me out, all this sexual kid stuff.
It makes me feel like I shouldn’t be normal right now; it’s my soul that knows I am. All these adults remind me of the adults at the K___ Free Will Baptist Church, every single adult.
Going to church, I saw so many adults .. I still didn’t know that sex was wrong. I still lived in the world of me and Trevor, in the soul place, where we were both Hims, not little boys, or young men, or old men, or whatever.
I still didn’t know I was only a little kid. I was always in the throws of orgasm. Because everything, all the time was sex.
Trevor started getting me high when I got to the point in the rapes where my trying not to cry turned in to me being so angry -- so pissed -- that I began pretending to ignore the whole thing, pretending to not even register it.
Trevor sensed I was losing my humanity, the part of me that was Real, he knew I was dying, that’s why he felt what he did was okay, because he wasn’t living without me. I was older then, not a toddler in diapers anymore. I was a full fledged boy by the time Trever died ..
I really liked women back then, I mean I really really liked pretty women .. I would leave my mom in a store and just start following them. She would have to call security.
[Where are you going as you are getting high? Back to the place where I could really See this smoke in the air -- the Real place -- the Soul place.] ..
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