092118 can i tell you something he said to the mother fucking wall if the point of the matrix was “do what you have to do whether you’re ‘the one’ or not”; aka, “the difference between knowing the path and walking the path”, then why did it end with the big beautiful breathless black man saying, “He *is* the one!”? It felt like kind of a betrayal to me. Oh really? the wall wanted to know, What’s really on your mind? Lucid dreaming. ? Yeah. Because like, why is there this whole subculture of people who seem almost singlemindedly committed to learning how to do it--how to control it? Yeah, I don’t know. The Matrix. Sure. I get it. You watched a movie. You were a tiny bit baked. Now you’re all like, yeah, slow motion bullets and shit. Bending spoons. A little bald girl telling you it’s you that bends. Whatever. History. Lalalala. We got that down for the generations. Great. You watched a movie. What’s really going on? Megan and Millie hate each other again. It’s like a paranormal--no, an all too normal manifestation of my own depression and defeat--it’s like my own version of *inutile*. I’m that sad dad singing from the dispatch in Washington Heights cuz he couldn’t do nothing to save his family from themselves. And Libby’s hurt and mad at Cel cuz she got slime on her blanket. No, cuz she just lounges in her bed without permission. And Cel’s pissed cuz she thinks Lib’s an inconsiderate slob, and Cel feels like she’s expected to be the maid or something. And I kind of blew up at both of them and gave them this “it could be worse” kind of half righteous spiel--we have a roof over our heads; you’ve never had to miss a meal in your life--i know it sucks to have to share a room, but shit, give me a break. i’m doing the best i can here. We just need to care for each other. Take care of each other. That’s all I could think of to say, cuz I couldn’t stand all the tension and negativity anymore. In the back of my mind I was slightly reassured by the somewhat vague image of some suburban coworker or girl scout mom or well behaved relative saying something cagey about hormones, saying oh I’m sorry, you’re the only guy in the house, huh? and the laughing and the ha ha yeah, and the aw shucks of that, and it makes all this shit seem less alien and serious for a sec. But when you’re actually in here, living in it, it can be pretty not terribly fun or funny sometimes. It’s not really totally horribly awful though, most of the time. But I do wonder. I do worry. I am afraid that Megan and Millie won’t be able to come back together. I am heartbroken that Millie seems so unhappy so much of the time. Megan reads it as negativity, and her main focus seems to be on how it affects *her.* Because that’s where Megan’s at right now. She’s still self-centered as fuck, and as a result, she looks around and concludes everyone else is self-centered as fuck. I hope she grows out of it. I hope it’s not a hard, concrete, permanent, ingrown, festering feature of her personality, like it was with her mom. Her mom was so tied up in knots inside her own mirror image self image that I don’t even think she knew who she was anymore. She was anything anybody needed at any time--all you had to do was keep on feeding the beast. So that’s where Megan’s at right now, but it doesn’t mean she’s not sincere, and trying, and smart, and wise, and beautiful. She’s all of those things. That’s why I’m nice to her and try to listen to her and help her. I just wish she could grasp that Millie is all those things too--like, they can both be all those things--and we should both be just as nice to Millie and try to listen to her, too. I just think Megan hasn’t been lifted fully out of flatland quite yet. She literally can’t perceive that third dimension. Yet. I hope it’s “yet.” I worry. But I hope. So what else is on your mind? the wall asked. Because we were still sitting there, in the room together, alone. Well, I say *in* the room, but hell, I don’t even know--can you really say whether a wall is *in* the room or not? Can you be *in* something if in some very real sense you *are* the something? I dunno. Just ask your own brain, I guess. I was like, shit, wall, I don’t know. I really don’t know what I want to talk about. How about just nothing. Just whatever. Shoot the shit? wall asked. I mean, honestly, I think that’s about all I got energy for. I get it, said the wall, and it was hard not to believe it. Boy, it sure did get chilly real fast. Like overnight! I said, cuz I didn’t know what else to say. Oh, yeah, I know, said the wall. Yeah, I forgot that you kinda get affected by stuff like that. Hey, tell you what. What? I got a buddy, name’s storm window. Let me introduce ya. I think he could really help you out, you know? Yeah? Yeah, for real. You just give him a little squeeze, and he slides right down into place, and helps to keep you warm. Sounds like a really great guy. Yeah, he is. He is. But so are you. I think you guys would like each other. Well, OK, thanks. Thanks for thinking of me. Hey no problem, said the wall, because, I mean, of course it did. Of course he had an entire conversation with a MOTHER FUCKING WALL, BECAUSE OBVIOUSLY HE’S MOTHER FUCKING INSANE, I MEAN WHAT THE FUCK, DUDE. JESUS CHRIST. GO TO BED. Libby’s scared. They’re both scared. Why the fuck did I show them the matrix. What a fucking idiot.