Blackouts

by Justin Torres

I’d be reminded of the false self, the pseudophilosophical self, or the naif, or simply remember, in a flash, a scene in a bar, or in bed with some man, and what a phony I’d been, or how afraid, or repulsed; how I grasped desperately for admiration, or pity, and lied to get it, and I’d burn all over again, with embarrassment, and find myself unable to go on.

In our attachments, whether to objects or others, there exists a continual fluctuation of our energies. We wish to possess, to be possessed, and to be relieved of our possessions all at once. The hoarder solves the problem of value and attachment by holding on. The chronic loser lets it all go.

Explaining away the “bad father” and redirecting us toward the “good enough father” is so often one of a mother’s covert responsibilities.

“This is more than a dream,” Juan says, reciting, “it is something that is awake within a dream.”