25.18
I can’t ask you questions about the past anymore because you
are gone. You were always so much better at remembering the past than I. You
didn’t inspire fear, you inspired love. There was a joy in living that cannot
be duplicated. When we try to make something that is true and lasting, we
discover that which is artificial. I remember Herman standing in the middle of
the street with his pants around his ankles as he jacked-off in front of
everybody. He was a victim of a struggle which takes place in the theater of
his mind. He had purchased his ticket for entry, but was denied entrance. Herman
wants a faithful woman. He looks for her on the internet. He hopes that he can
have her shipped to his front door, because he is afraid of stepping outside. Herman
is hoping to find a monastery in Tibet to begin his spiritual life. He didn’t
understand the cold-bloodedness that a war required. Still he would breathe in
the toxic fumes of the clouds. He would fight with the stray dogs for the
scraps of meat. He is as naked as a savage howling at the moon. Herman needs
the earth like we need the sky. Trish was the one that convinced us to move to
Southern Illinois. Herman was going to go to school there studying geography or
philosophy. Herman built a deprivation chamber in the basement of an old house
we rented. We would smoke pot and then float in the darkness. Herman was
keeping a journal of the thoughts that came to him in the chamber. In the
garage he would hang balls on different lengths of string and would kick and
hit them in a pseudo-karate workout. One evening over white wine, Trish told
Herman and I about her experiences in Southern Illinois. I always listened to
her very intently. I cherished every word that came from her mouth. Her words
could paint a picture in my mind that no one else could. She was studying
lesbian pornography. She was planning on majoring in it. I lost her somewhere
on the hill between the pizza place and the Chinese restaurant. I guess she
wandered for days before she found her way home. She was living with a
sociology professor who was getting a divorce. They ate vegetables together and
practiced white magic. After a year, the professor left Trish for some whore in
Cincinnati. Trish moved in with David the Bell Weather and they had three kids
together.
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