Logan and me.

 I slept on wolverine nap-time map in kindergarten. If Anthony Bourdain was the self professed ugliest American child then I was the most ignorant. I was supposed to be held back in kindergarten for low grades and emotional immaturity.

I held a chip on my shoulder over all this when I was in my teens I would spend late nights walking the highways from fourteen to nineteen I would walk the roads late at night. Trying to find someone or a circumstance that would change everything. Long lonely nights walking the roads with nirvana and the wu tang clan playing on repeat on my iPod. I didn’t know how stupid I was being then ether. Didn’t honestly know the base depressed level of my ignorance till a few minutes ago.

Cars rolled next to me slowly rolling down there driver-seat window and would drive off screaming tires burning out as they floored it away from me leaving me with a longing to talk and make sense of my life. Others would offer me rides I turned down and would say things like “I just want to help you get where you’re going.”

Thought one night I lay down in an old farmers yard he woke me u with a gun to my head and talked to me about how disturbed I was for taking a nap in someone’s yard. It made sense and when told me to leave and not come back I did.

I taught my brother and sisters how to read but I learned late myself I think I wasn’t in sixth grade when I started learning how read at a level where I could appreciate what I was reading. I would fake in a fake British accent when I read out loud to cover up having to sound out the words at such an old age. It was as absurd as I am.

There is so much fragmented pain most of which is humorous from the outside looking in. That I feel strange talking about with any sentimental pathos.

One night my dad was helping one of my younger brothers with homework and I insulted him about how stupid he was. He had not helped me with schools since I was in middle school and I was still technically homeschooled. I was in my self educated faze doing pretty good getting A’s and B’s on standardized tests but still deep down I was a fool. My dad called me out on it and punched the back of the family laptop I used tow rite fiction on and broke it and I kind of got shattered myself crying and repeating “I’m not stupid.” But I knew I was.

It’s funny how fragmented it is and it doesn’t make sense in the recalling of any of it. I know I am misremembering things yet that is how they are planted in my insufficient mind.

I saw Deadpool and Wolverine in theatres after having all my teeth pulled and before getting my dentures. It was cathartic for me. The story of a failure and his redemption arc.  That is 90% of what I have to say the story isn’t over. We can be the failure we are and still have our reasons and our purposes. It is a loos narrative thread but it runs through the whole of my life.

Later I beat up my boss at a store I worked at for sleeping with the girls, so they could get better shifts. I was diagnosed with paranoid schizophrenia and kinda collapsed into the rut that maybe mental illness was my identity. By after long arcs of people telling me they were scared of me from my diagnosis. I quit bringing it up in causal conversation.

I fasted most of a year going forty days and forty nights without food at one point. I was brought home by the cops over and over again. Crossed construction barriers to look down from splintered bridges and decided not to jump. Had a friend pen me down put my finger in a cigar cutter and the same friend hand cuff me and give his daughter a Knife and tell her she could cut me.

Drunk brother put a gun to my head and say you want to play Russian roulette and me staring him down and saying “you better make sure you never don’t want to see me again because you pull that trigger and the gun doesn’t go off you will never see me again.” He put the gun down.

I know I am just listing off anecdotes awkward but real. But what if there are very few conclusions to reach from life. But one of them is it can always get worse. And another may very well be: we’re all fucked up but it’s not always distributed in equal balanced proportions.

I look to Logan as hero of sorts because he keeps going till he doesn’t.