A Million Little Pieces - James Frey [95]
Seven. Infinite and eternal. It was never born and will never die. It is just there. It wants nothing and it needs nothing, it is just there. Stay behind and get ahead. Detach and become. Let go of all and you will be full. Let go of all and you will be full.
Eight and nine say the good is like water that nourishes without trying. They say in thinking keep to simple, in conflict be fair. They say don’t compare or compete simply be yourself. They say fill your bowl to the brim and it will spill, keep sharpening your knife and it will dull. They say chase after money and your heart will never unclench. Care about what other people think and you will always be their prisoner.
These things, these poems, these words, these meanings, they make sense to me. They do not tell me to do anything or be anything or believe in anything or become anything. They don’t judge me or try to convince me. There is no righteousness or pretension. They don’t fight me or insult me or tell me I’m wrong. There is no Authority and there are no Rules. They are just words strung together on a page sitting and waiting patiently for me to accept or reject them. They don’t care if I do either or both or nothing at all. They will never tell me I’m wrong. They will never tell me I’m right either. They just sit there.
I don’t read them again. I close the book and I let them sit. I am on my bed and I like my bed. It is soft and warm and I am not soft or warm but I imagine that it would be nice to be that way. I have never known it. I know a cold, hard, raging Fury deep inside of me and I am tired of it. I am tired of the feeling, I want to die so that I don’t have to feel it anymore. I would like to be soft and warm. I would be terrified to be that way. I could be hurt if I were soft and warm. I could be hurt by something other than myself. It is harder to be soft than it is be hard. I could be hurt by something other than myself.
It is nearing noon. I can hear men talking outside my Room. They are walking to the Dining Hall they are laughing about something I wonder what they’ll feel when the laughing stops. In here laughing is the only drug. Laughing or love. They are both drugs.
I get out of bed and I take my coloring book to Ken’s Office. It’s empty, so I leave the book on his desk. I go the Dining Hall and I get a plate of macaroni and beef and I sit down with the same men I eat with at every meal. Matty, Ed, Ted, Leonard, Miles. It’s a typical meal. Stories and swearing and a few laughs. As we’re finishing, Lincoln walks over and tells us we don’t have to go to the Lecture, that we’re having a Unit Meeting instead. Ed asks him why and he says don’t worry about it, just show up.
I finish eating and I put my tray on the conveyor. I walk back to the Unit and I join the rest of the men on the Lower Level. They are sitting on the couches smoking cigarettes and drinking coffee. The topic of conversation is Roy. The latest theory making rounds is that he was drunk. Alcohol can do powerful things to a person, but as the various drug theorists point out, Roy did not have the slurred speech and dulled reactions that are indicative of a serious drinking binge. They say it had to be drugs, though they argue among themselves as to what type. Bobby, who wasn’t here when the incident took place, tries to end the argument with a proclamation that Roy must have been using a powerful type of diet pills, that he’s seen it happen a dozen times before on Wall Street. Matty tells him he’s fucking crazy goddamn diet pills can’t fucking do that to a motherfucking Person. Bobby asks Matty if he knows what Wall Street is and where it’s located. Matty tells Bobby it ain’t gonna fucking matter where the fuck Wall Street is when I drop your fat fucking ass with a nice right hand. Bobby laughs and says go ahead, Little Man, it will be the last mistake you ever make. Matty stands up and takes a step forward, but Leonard tells him to sit down, that Bobby isn’t worth the trouble. Matty sits down.
Lincoln walks in and he pulls