I've decided, since it is now perfectly clear that my father has thrown me away because is what he does with EVERYONE eventually because they aren't good enough for him, that when my father finally dies, which is going to devastate me DESPITE knowing that this world is an illusion and we are in the seventh day gazing into the sixth, he is going to first wake up from the transitional dream to be surrounded by those people he still longs to see, his new family for instance, and it will be happy and joyful and grand as he realizes this is Heaven.

Then, he will get a tap on the shoulder and turn around, to see all those people he slighted or threw away or made their life hell, with me and my mom in front with his parents behind us, and all that happiness will shatter. I'll hold my mom back from saying something, telling her that he heard already, before we all walk off without him. They all disappear and it's my dad and me left. I'll look at him, tell him "Welcome to Hell," before heading through a door and flicking the switch to plunge everything into darkness. He'll hear "I think ten thousand years of nothingness will do," and it will be quiet for about a minute or two while he wraps his head it, before I flick the light back on and tell him I would never do that to him, I'm not him, and tell him to hurry tf up.

We walk and talk to find ourselves on some streets of an illusory city, where we will be homeless undercover police. And he will start to live a life where he will see that all those people he considers beneath him are just as good if not better than him in all the ways he never has to consider, being as prosperous as he is.

Y'know, I don't want my dad to suffer. I want him to grow the fuck up and stop being a boy. Y'know the difference between a boy and a man? A man has grown up and has chosen to care for more than himself. And he provides for some people, but the amount he makes them cry with his own deficiencies is the reason I was thrown away, abandoned, and forgotten.

My whole life, I've felt like a worthless failure. In second grade, I wrote on the back of my notebook that "I'm a failure," and when my dad saw it, he changed it to "I'm a farter," before make of fun of me for being a farter. I was never good enough for him. Like, I'd break a record in track, and there would be a public celebration, before my dad signed to take me home, and I wouldn't hear the end of how I did this or that minor, tiny, unimportant thing wrong in my stretching. One time I just couldn't run fast, I was so tired. I had to start doing three practices a day because of that; one run in the morning, my school practice, and then our club practice.

Like, you people read the shit that comes outta my thumb, right? Y'know, I'm the crazy guy that wants to give his aunt a footrub only for her to notice my raging erection before exploring my sexuality with me as a still living mommy would, obviously. Like, I'm skilled at that, right? That's how broked my brain does do be, y'know? That did not happen without the sheer magnitude of horrors I endured growing up. Like, it's weird how I have this memory of being thrown into a bookcase when I was four, and there's all these other memories I have that I thought were from the same day, but like, my perspective of my childhood now has warped, so I feel like I have one super fucked day in my early childhood when my mom drove through the garage door, the police came, my mom went to the hospital, I both got my Super Nintendo at night and was happy I could play it during the day because dad was finally taken away.

It's hard to articulate what that's like, having something that happened when I was four and five and six all being mushed and warped together. Cuz, there's no God damn place for me in this world. I'm too different. Too weird. Too over the line. Too bizarre. That's ultimately why my dad cut contact and blocked me. I'm "too bizarre." That makes me want to make even more sarin gas in my apartment. Shit gets you real high, if you didn't know, though I don't recommend it. Real harsh crash. Real harsh.