#retard dump

Shrink

 My close friend Shrink had a psychotic break and sent us 200 texts in 48 hours. One of them said, “I as a man want to die just to save my sole concept of a woman in this world.” Another one said, “I’ve done no harm to women in the physical world, but I do know how smart you all are. But you’re all sinners in my mind. Sorry. No more words.” In the texts he apologized to God for owning an animal, for being a virgin, for recursing numbers, defining things in terms of their previous forms. He’s Irish Catholic and studying biomedical technology, so it was bound to happen. 

Mae called his parents and they brought him back tp the city. They took his phone away and then gave it back. He texts us, “Wow. Lithium is fucking amazing. Thank you for teaching me how to be a better man. Quit your drug habits this semester and I’ll see you in the summer. I love you all. Platonically.” 

I started hanging out with Shrink in 2021 because we were both bad at eye contact. He tried explaining his brain condition to me but I didn’t get it. But he wanted to understand me. He wanted to understand my friends. Do girls like anything? It should be easy to understand women with a pre-set binary in place. But it’s not. Even when you know them. Maybe especially then. He would ask us stuff like, Am I a bad person for wanting to fuck her? Does she not like me because I’m low-key autistic? Do girls like ANYTHING? Haven’t you always wanted to ask a woman these kinds of questions? You can ask men these kind of questions no problem. It turns them on. But you have to read books to figure out how to talk to women. That’s not fair. Women get to have books written about their esotericism. While they walk amongst us still. Shrink texts, “They call it recursion in computer science. But I know you women don’t understand this kind of stuff.” My friends are getting pissed off. He’s getting less Jesus-y but more misogynistic. Wtf. But we DON’T understand recursion. I don’t understand recursion. How can the output of the problem equal the magnitude of the number? It’s not about being retarded, it’s not about girl-math. It’s about conceptual differences. If the problem happens why can it force itself, by virtue of being itself, to happen again? Life isn’t a Cornell West lecture. Life is something that learns from itself and spits new things out. Isn’t it? DO GIRLS LIKE ANYTHING??? 

I’m texting things like omg that’s crazy sad face but in my present tense I’m trying to rationalize his psychosis. Is that fucked up? Driving yourself insane over somebody else’s revelations, that seemingly drove them insane? Im not allowed to text him, that would clearly make things worse. I’m not allowed to say the schizobabble has a point. Im not allowed to say he’s based, even though that’s what he would want. 

We’ve got this other friend called Ripper and he’s helping take care of Shrink now. Ripper says it’s been hard reteaching Shrink how to be “careful with language”. Because we’re in civil society. Psychosis is a problem that psychoanalyzes itself. The way a computer is a machine that computes data. You need to grasp the concepts to know the tidbits. It’s recursive. Was that Shrink’s point? Is it fair to find a point? How do I make my friend’s psychotic episode about me? Me and my friends are all thinking it. But saying that aloud would be insane. 

I saw the girl again, the one u said I look like. When we both saw her at the barbecue and you said, Honestly i can’t look at a girl when she’s younger because it ruins everything for me. When you said, And i can’t look at her father either because it ruins everything even more.  

I know shes not me and that she’s just a girl i look like because I could never believe the alternative. I will not believe the alternative. That youve been seeing me in places ive never been. When actually i just wanted you to be Bill Murray and show me japan. Like show me these fucking car-part factories and the oil tycoon sexpats already. All my life i’ve wanted to move around in one place, learn about other places. Be the place itself.

And actually i can hear the ships docking at the harbor bc they make noises like grunting fat Italians. Your mom has raised so many kids i mean what’s one more? Im staring at her hard thinking about crying on her bosom, I mean what’s just one more. The oldheads said we were doing alright. Tht it hurt more with the gauze wrapped around it. Oh my summertime in the sadness. She’s flipping the burgers, feeding the little kids corn. The water is hot from the sun. 

I dont care about anything you’ve done, anything you want to do. What is it going to change? That you’ve atoned? That you found God finally by the grace of God and He was a young man, like everybody said, respected your authority. Made you feel special. 

You told me about the girl and i went to go cry in the car because i felt abandoned but your mom knocked on the window. I know how much you loved seeing that, women loving. But then she grabbed my face by my jaw and picked the corn out of my teeth. She said you had strange impulses but you loved nature, like a President. Logically you made wrong decisions but in your heart you liked to swim and feel the sun on your skin. 

i was cowering and felt stupid and chided but I knew the intrepid Amazon was still chirping. Parrots and beetles that haven’t been discovered yet, the birds and the bugs. I love your careful bedside manner, your smile, your phone. Im in it for you you dirty old man. If this changes your mind about me so be it. I’m sorry i won’t punish you. Im sorry that I have protected you for so long. From a future that would have treated you unkindly. I know how you long for your own sickness. The girl, the dark continent. Parrots and beetles that haven’t been discovered yet, the birds and the bugs. One is so beautiful and free and the other one is so dirty. You said. But you dont have a choice in the matter. The choice is not yours to make.