At some point, though, it snapped back. And I felt like a guy again. At least, that's how I defined it. I didn't feel small and vulnerable any more.
So Chance and Brandon were looking at my facebook. At some point, I remembered how I had sent Erik a bunch of sexy pictures of myself, via facebook. Brandon and Chance could see them now.
I was sitting on the couch downstairs between 2 and 3 AM when it happened. I suddenly felt all this sexual energy directed at me. I started moving all around and writhing. It was intense, but it felt good. Really good. I moved around, gently humping the air for about five minutes, before it dissipated and returned to normal.
Rachel:
A couple minutes ago I felt a whole bunch of sexual energy, like someone was thinking about me while jacking off. It was pleasant.
Erik:
I'm not complaining, but this is sort of getting funny.
Rachel:
Was it you?
Erik:
Ya...
Rachel:
God dammit.
I was hoping it was someone else.
I got up the next day at around 7 AM, and I had not slept a wink. I was wide awake, and I started to write to Erik, even though I wasn't up yet. I wrote about how weird it was that there was an icosahedron in Pioneer Square, and I didn't even think anything of it. Like, I didn't even assign any delusional significance to it.
There was something about hand washing. Like, in the dream I had with the enlightenment house. I was imagining something, and I wrote to Erik about it. In high school, I imagined that there had been a rumor about some of the people I hung out with, that they didn't wash their hands after they went to the bathroom. I had had no knowledge of this because I was so isolated socially. There was something funny going on with the chat window while I was writing this, but I wasn't paying that much attention, and I closed my laptop so that I could go off and spend a few hours frolicking and wandering around the neighborhood.
I returned, and Erik had written to me, telling me that it sounded like the hand washing was more like an anointing. I agreed that this was much more likely than a rumor about hand washing.
Erik:
What other messages disappeared, btw?
Rachel:
Woah maybe that's it. Maybe I just made up the bathroom handwashing thing.
Erik:
Anointing has been around thousands of years, predates the bible.
Rachel:
I hate this.
Erik:
Btw what other messages disappeared?
Rachel:
What do you mean?
Erik:
And what do you hate?
Rachel:
What I am experiencing.
Erik:
I can sort of understand that sentiment.
As for what I mean, you said above, “my other messages disappeared.”
Huh? I scrolled back in our chat history. And there it was. There was text inserted in the conversation, like I had written this, but I had not written this:
The other messages disappeared.
I didn't bat an eye.
Rachel: Now did I write that? Or was that someone else?
That was Brandon. Brandon had written that. So that's what happened. Not all my messages had gotten sent to him. I had been wondering what had happened for six years, it had been killing me slowly inside. And now I knew. But it was no big deal. No big deal at all. I was very steady emotionally. I was riding high, above everything. My emotional state was unshakeable. I didn't get freaked out or anything, I just remained calm.
Erik: You wrote that.
Rachel:
Erik I don't think I wrote that, because that thought process makes no sense to me.
What it said was:
And
The other messages disappeared
There is something significant about washing hands.
Like in my dream.
Erik:
You got no sleep last night. I would be surprised if you remembered what you ate for breakfast.
Rachel:
Well, the thing is... I have been having delusions, or something... That there are other people reading my facebook, and that would make sense.
Erik:
Paranoia?
Rachel:
They aren't bad people. What's happening right now is something kind of trippy.
Erik:
There aren't other people reading your facebook private messages. I can virtually guarantee it.
Rachel:
I don't know if you can. How can you do that?
Erik:
Because my instincts are telling my so on this. Which is part of my intuition.
Rachel:
But I'm psychic.
Why did I say that? That made no sense.
A thought occurred to me. Brandon liked me. Chance liked me. I suddenly imagined this turning into a Twilight-like story, where it was a choice between two guys.
Rachel:
Oh my God!! I DO HAVE FREE WILL!!!
Erik: Why do you say that?
Rachel:
Because, I get a choice!
Erik, this is something funny. That's too weird.
Oh, God, I need coffee.
This situation calls for coffee.
So I had free will. Who would I choose? First I thought, Brandon wins out, because let's face it, even though I have been thinking about Chance a lot over the past couple of months, I still liked Brandon more. But then I thought some more, and I realized that I had to pick Chance. I absolutely had to pick Chance. Brandon had put me through way too much shit. Chance had not.
I came back to my room. I was high, not on drugs, but on my own body's chemicals. I started talking to Erik about rap music, and facebook God.
Erik:
He's funny as shit.
Rachel:
I know, but if you are Christian, you are supposed to find that offensive. Like religion is something VERY SERIOUS.
Erik:
Only zealots go that route. True religious followers can laugh at themselves and their own religion. Like Buddhists. A Buddhist walks into a pizzeria, and says, 'make me one with everything.'
Rachel:
Huh. That's a joke. I am above jokes right now.
I have a connection with God. I have experienced God. And I know, facebook God, is a lot like the real God. I mean, there is an aspect to it of humor.
Erik:
And our relationship with God is private, ours alone. Yours will be different than mine. Not wrong or right, just yours.
Rachel:
See I like the idea of a God that's funny.
Not a God that's all mean and grave.
Like Chance and his Old Testament God.
I inserted this last bit for Chance, because he was reading. I keeled over in a position of intense laughter, however, it was completely silent. I silently laughed at this for a long time.
Rachel:
Sorry I was riding some funny energy there.
Just so you know I am acting like a fucking weirdo right now. I have dry mouth. Like, I've been doing drugs. I didn't sleep last night. I am on a lower dose of Invega.
My brain was having a hard time staying on topic. I remembered back to yesterday when I gave money to the bum.
Rachel:
I thought illicit drug use was a worthy cause.
Ahh drain.
I need to reboot energy.
You know, I was thinking about it. I do pretend I'm black when I listen to rap music. But it's just for fun. I don't actually think I'm black.
I started telling Erik about a video my sister made in high school. In sociology class, they were given the assignment to do a project on minorities. So, my sister made a video about black people. At the beginning, they are standing around talking. “This is Lake Oswego, where are all the black people? Do you know any black people?” There aren't any black people in Lake Oswego. So the words “The Hunt” flash across the screen, and they were looking for black people to interview for the video. So they go to downtown Portland, by Pioneer Square, exactly where I met Larry.
The teacher liked Kristen's video so much they showed it in front of the whole school at an assembly. But some of the few black people at the school, or their parents, got upset, because they thought “the hunt” was a reference to when lynch mobs would hunt down black people to kill them.
Rachel:
Don't you think the Flying Spaghetti Monster is funny?
Erik:
Yes, lol
Rachel:
Like, if the Flying Spaghetti Monster doesn't exist, why are the planets perfectly shaped like meatballs?
I didn't make that up.
Erik:
Who did?
Rachel:
I got it from somewhere.
I started going on about how bad I felt for Chance. The other messages disappeared. Haha. The other messages disappeared.
Rachel:
Wasn't that thing about the messages weird? What the fuck was I talking about? It's a little bit of a mystery.
We should ponder on that mystery.
I love it when facebook God quotes scripture.
God didn't hate Esau.
Erik:
Ok, you can't focus.
Rachel:
Why should we focus? This rapid thought process suits me.
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