Out of the blue, Jeremy contacted me again, and told me he wanted to hang out with me and another couple. I was doubtful because of all the times he'd blown me off, but I agreed to it anyway. I knew that he wanted us to get together and have sex. I told him I would, because “You don't regret what you do, you regret what you don't do.” This time, he showed up at my house when he said he would, and took me over to the couple's apartment.
There was a reason why I still gave Jeremy a chance, even after he blew me off so many times. I knew that Jeremy had a crush on me. I could feel this when I looked at his picture on facebook.
That was something I could do now. Something was happening to me. I was expanding, and growing spiritually. That was the magic of tai chi. I could feel my sense of self, my aura radiate, and grow. And with it, came my psychic sensitivity. When I imagined conversations in my head, that wasn't psychic. That was just in my head. But when I looked at someone's picture, and reached out with my energy and touched theirs, or felt their energy come through the screen, that was psychic.
I went online to a spiritual message board. There was a forum where people gave readings based on looking at people's photo. Anyone could read, so I tried reading people. I was told the stuff I said was accurate, and I should continue doing readings.
The trouble was, figuring out what information I received was psychic, and what was inaccurate.
So I could tell that Jeremy had a crush on me, but he wasn't interested in a relationship. He just wanted to have fun. Like me, he had just gotten out of a relationship.
We arrived at the apartment to meet Jeremy's friends. It was a young couple, the guy was tall, thin, and black, the girl was a stripper. We smoked a bunch of weed. I sat next to Jeremy, he put his arm around me and I touched him. I looked at him, startled by something. I was startled because I was with a guy who I was actually sexually attracted to! I had this problem where I would hook up with guys, and I wasn't really attracted to them. But I was attracted to Jeremy, and this was something new. Like, I was a virgin or something. I was an experienced virgin.
What Jeremy wanted was to see me hook up with a girl. So I made out with the girl. Then we all went into the bedroom and had sex with each other. Jeremy said that he had never done something like this before. But he liked what I said, you don't regret what you do, you regret what you don't do. It was interesting that I was the person he wanted to try something like this with.
The girl went down on me. I felt her energy. There was anger directed at me.
I felt something from Jeremy. As we had sex, my cross necklace dangled up against him. I got the impression that he was annoyed that I would wear a cross necklace to an orgy.
Afterwards, the girl yelled, “Thanks for making me look stupid!”
I went in the other room, and started moving my hands around really fast, making sound effects. “Shew! Shew! Shew!” I was shooting energy all over the place.
Jeremy tried to take a picture of me when I was naked. I told him not to. I was worried he did anyway.
Everyone else had an orgasm except me. I opted out.
As Jeremy drove me home, I kept rambling on an on about how terrible the weed was. “My weed was so much better than their weed!” Once at my house, Jeremy walked me to the door, and hugged me goodbye.
I think instead of calling it Innercept Academy, they should call it Zombie Academy.
Weird zombie girl needs some weird zombie Academy to normalize her weirdness and zombify her to states of dead zombie normalcy!
I was meeting Larry again to smoke some more of the weed he had given me. My parents hated me going downtown, but I told them I was going to do what I was going to do and there was nothing they could do about it.
I went downtown to Pioneer Square. In the square, there was an icosahedron tent. I walked around it and stared at it. It captivated me, however, I didn't really think anything of it. It didn't occur to me that it meant something.
Larry drove up in a car and picked me up. After I got in the car, he presented me with a new, very nice journal.
We drove around, smoked some weed, and listened to this rap song called Free Mason by Rick Ross. “I'd go to my grave before I'd be a bitch nigga...” The weed was hitting my bloodstream.
I thought about my book. I could feel, from listening to the melody of this song, that my book was going to be a success, it was going to be huge. I thought about Chance. I felt a cord connecting us. In my mind I imagined smiling at him and telling him I was sorry. I imagined him smiling really big and telling me it was okay. As if this were happening on a spiritual level between us. As if our higher selves were interacting.
Larry had to go to a class, so he dropped me downtown to hang out and wait. I got out of the car and I was high out of my mind. A cop turned his head as I walked by and I was about to freak but then I realized he was just checking me out.
Was this really just weed? Was there something else in this? This was the best weed I had ever smoked in my life.
I kept thinking about Chance. Something was going to happen with this. This was going somewhere. This was going somewhere.
This guy has a crush on you. But you are convinced he thinks you are subhuman.
This was so familiar. And that is what I thought. I thought Chance had thought I was subhuman. Like I was just an object, a thing, not a person, because he would get in my face and say my name and I would just sit there and do nothing.
Chance had liked me. Did other people in my eighth grade drama class know this?
I headed to the Pioneer Place mall. I forced myself to eat something because I needed to eat. That was the thing about marijuana's effect on me, or this marijuana's effect on me, it didn't give me the munchies. I wandered around the mall aimlessly.
I got carried away in my thoughts. I remembered how I had imagined Chance talking about me, back when I was messaging Brandon through facebook. I remembered how I had written as my status something about people from high school talking about me. “Why would I care what Chance thinks?” I had written as my religious views. Thank God, you can't look back at people's past religious views. Because Chance and I were friends now, and if you could, he could see that.
Then I imagined something else. Someone from my high school had seen that, and told him about it. Then Chance had seen me walking outside, the day before I attempted suicide, and I was crying, and he thought I was crying because I was hearing him in my head talking shit about me. This thought occurred to me. It would have killed me if I had known this earlier. This was the big fallout, the one the waterfall dream had warned me about. The waterfall dream that I had before I started college.
But things were cool now. Things were okay now. There was no need to worry. Chance liked me. Things were fine.
I thought about the pages I made on facebook. At the end of the Smirkydesmirkster profile, it asks, “Who smirked at Weird Zombie Girl? Was it one of your friends? Share this page to find out!”
“The page asks you, who smirked at Weird Zombie Girl? Isn't that really weird?”
People didn't understand who smirked at Weird Zombie Girl.
I imagined Chance talking. “Isn't it obvious who smirked at Weird Zombie Girl? It was Rachel Zuhl!”
Chance knew this, because when I sent the profiles to him, it didn't say, “Did YOU smirk at Weird Zombie Girl?” It said, “A spiritual high may have added a degree of smugness.” He deduced what I was doing here. I was making fun of a girl who had put puke in front of my door, in real life.
As I walked around the mall, the radio played over the speaker system. They were playing the song “Beat It” by Michael Jackson. This was significant, because back in eighth grade drama class, the boys used to always sing the parody of this song “Eat It.” I remembered how that was the time when I was obsessed with food. I got out my journal and wrote down “Beat It.” I wrote down the titles of other songs they played on the radio.
I remembered Chance's Ponzi Steam Cleaners status. It was a play on words, and I liked plays on words, but I hated the name Innercept, even though it was a play on words. I wrote down, “Innercept is a stupid play on words.”
I left the mall and walked around downtown. I saw an advertisement for cake, with a girl about to eat a piece of cake. I knew this was symbolic. This girl was me. I was about to have my cake, and eat it too.
Walking down the street, I bumped into a bum. He told me he needed money for “illicit drug use.”
“Woah! Illicit drug use! Well why didn't you say so!” I reached into my purse and handed him a dollar. He definitely needed this money.
“Woah thanks man! You are awesome! You are a special soul!”
I realized that the only reason I did this was because I was thinking, this would make a good facebook status. Because that's how I thought now. It was all about having interesting facebook statuses.
Today I gave a bum a dollar. He said he needed it for illicit drug use.
Larry picked up, and I felt enlightened, like I knew something now that I hadn't known before. Something was going to happen between Chance and me.
Someone had broken into Larry's mom's apartment. Him and I went over there to check things out.
Larry's mom was very rattled. I was barely aware of what was going on, I was high out of my mind. Larry dealt with the situation, and then we were leaving. We were talking to Larry's little brother, or someone Larry was related to, a kid who looked like he was twelve years old.
“You like her?” Larry was referring to me. “On a scale from one to ten, what is she?”
“A ten.” he said very decisively.
And then, I looked, and there was something very odd. There was a little baby, giving me the middle finger.
And then Rachel sees that the baby was flipping her off...
I shook my head a little bit to get this thought out.
Why would the baby flip me off? Because the little baby knew something. I was leading Larry on. I only liked Larry as a friend. Larry was interested in me romantically.
We drove around some more, listening to the “bitch nigga” song, before I rode the bus home.
I think it's odd. There are people who don't vote because Jesus said something about not being of this world. So they interpret that to mean you shouldn't participate in the world. But Jesus also said something about how you should put no thought into what you wear. Therefore, it should be a sin to color coordinate clothing, or wear clothes that match, or wear clothes appropriate for the situation. Because if you do, it indicates that you put thought into the clothing you chose to wear. But I've never heard of anyone who didn't do these things for religious reasons.
Did God even say we had free will? I wrote that as my status. Did God even say we had free will? Then I deleted it, almost immediately.
Maybe I didn't have free will. Maybe only I didn't have free will, because I was Jesus. Maybe everything I did was determined beforehand. The universe knew I would go downtown. That's why there was an icosahedron in Pioneer Square. I didn't have a choice in any of this. My life was planned out ahead of time, and I was just like a train on a track. That's why I had so many dreams about trains.
Even though we were broken up, I still talked to Erik regularly. I talked to him that night after I got home from hanging out with Larry. I was manic, wide-awake, and feeling like I was losing my mind. We talked through most of the night.
Rachel: Erik this is so in my head weirdly... Remember how I was talking about, how I will remember something was part of the plan. Chance likes me, and I like him, but I think that he thinks I'm like, subhuman... that sounds weird but it's in my head weirdly... That's what I thought, I realize. The reason I thought that, was because he said kind of rude things sometimes, but it was only because I wouldn't talk to him!
There are always fucking 23 people online.
God dammit talk to me Erik! I need to calm my brain down, because of going off the invega...
I am thinking there is something happening, but it is being confused because I am off-balance chemically.
There's something funny happening with me spiritually but I am fucked up mentally.
I had actually been working with the doctor on going off medications. He had taken me off Depakote, and now he had me on a lower dose of Invega.
Erik:
God dammit, I hate myself right now. I went to watch iron man 3 at the theater, like I said in my wall. I turn my phone off out of respect for everyone there, and about ten minutes into the movie I think to myself "I really hope Rachel sees that status and doesn't try to contact me..."
Rachel:
It's okay. I just looked at Chance's profile to feel the energy....
Because that's what I've been doing.
I feel really strong energy directed toward me coming from him. It wasn't there earlier.
Erik:
Well do you know what I'm going to say?
Rachel:
I hope it's not something bad.
Erik:
Do you? You know me pretty well by now Rachel. What I'm going to say is talk to him on it.
Rachel:
Okay Erik, let me tell you something, this isn't that kind of thing. These are things I should keep to myself. You realize how it works, if I were to ask him about this... THAT RUINS EVERYTHING!!
Erik:
Because of the what if?
Rachel:
Nope. Not the reason.
Sorry I spaced.
Erik:
What does it ruin?
Rachel:
A series of events. It's kind of like, a story has a lesson and it is shown through events.
There was something going on with me. In my mind, I was imagining Brandon and Chance talking again. They were reading this conversation I was having with Erik. Brandon had hacked my facebook and called him back over, because I was talking about him.
Rachel:
It has value that conversation doesn't have. If you were to just, tell someone the lesson you know with words, like sit down and talk it out....
Another reason, after all that has happened, there is no way in hell I am going to risk being embarrassed again.
Erik:
Never underestimate the value of telling someone something, and either giving or receiving validation. Like your growing abilities, and how you've felt me, and tonight alone, reached out and touched me.
Embarrassment is a part of life, baby. Learning to cope with it is what we do to grow.
I don't suggest gushing love letters on his wall or message box
But asking perhaps if, or what, he's interested in can clarify the boundaries, and maybe even clarify what you're feeling, for you.
Rachel:
Your advice sucks. I would rather shoot myself in the head.
Than risk being embarrassed again!!!!
I added that last line very quickly because I kept imagining Chance reading this, and he was shocked when I said I would rather shoot myself in the head than talk to him.
Erik:
I wish I was there for you right now.
Rachel:
Things are fine, because it will go how it's supposed to.
You should watch what you say here. It might be bugged.
Erik:
If they haven't picked up yet that fact, then it isn't.
Rachel:
I think I'm losing it.
Erik:
Ok babe. Right now, I want you to tell me a truth to you. something that no one can change in your mind. Inviolate.
Rachel:
I have a nose!! Is that a good one?
Erik:
Haha, ok. That can work for this. The next time you feel like you're losing it, I want you to touch your nose and say to yourself "I have a nose" and force your attention on your nose.
Rachel:
See this video I posted on facebook – Graffiti6, Annie You Save Me – Remember my enlightenment house dream?
Erik:
Vaguely – the one with the icosahedron room? I didn't watch the video by the way.
Rachel:
There was this part of the dream before the part about the house... I didn't mention this before because I didn't think it was important. I was at a beach house and I was looking at magazines of women with funny makeup on, kind of like in that video, where it makes them look sad. Really weird makeup.
Erik:
Like bad clown makeup?
Rachel:
YES!! Bad clown makeup!
It was supposed to make them look sad. But it was girls. They weren't actually clowns, but it was like clown makeup.
Erik:
I got the picture totally from you. Like I see it
...wait
The magazines were on a coffee table of white ash wood?
Rachel:
I don't remember!
Erik:
Your dream, was it very light and airy? Like a soft ambient perpetually active light.
Rachel:
What the hell are you talking about? This dream in general was positive. It was light, but sad, and mellow.
Erik:
Melancholy.
Rachel:
Yeah, that's what I said! Sad!
Erik, I feel like a girl now. And I liked feeling like a guy way better. Being a girl feels like death. Because of sex. There is something uncomfortable about sexuality.
Erik:
Not inherently.
Rachel:
Oh fuck yeah there is.
This is why girls don't want to have sex, and guys don't understand. I know you think girls like to keep track of how many guys they have slept with with notches on their belt.
...Oh God, be careful, the chat window might be bugged.
Erik:
Who do you think is bugging your chat?
Rachel:
No one. I am paranoid. But at the same time... it doesn't matter.
It didn't matter. I didn't care if my privacy was being violated. Even though I was quiet, I was an open sort of person. It was perfectly fine.
I tried to sleep, but failed miserably. I was wide awake. I felt the greatness of life, this spirituality, at the same time I was confused, and worried that it could all be chalked up to an imbalance of chemicals in my brain.
I felt like a little girl. I thought about how I went downtown, all the guys would turn their heads and stare. I was in great shape. But it made me uncomfortable now. This kind of thing had never made me uncomfortable before. Guys wanted to have sex with me? That was great! Now it was like, no, maybe that's not so great. I mean it was great, but it was also bad. A mixed blessing. Because it made me uncomfortable somehow.
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