The Trickster Diaries/Chapter 94
Alright. So I’m a suspicious guy. So what? You get that way after swallowing Homo sapien bullshit too routinely, staying in the game even after you recognize it for what it is. Or her for who she is. Her, him, them, it, whatever.
But there’s a right way and a wrong way of being that way. Suspicious, I mean. Truth is I don’t know about the wrong way anymore because it has to do with hope and blame and self pity, entitlement and worry and it relies upon you falling sedatedly into a delusional black hole and staying there, forever.
You know the type. The perennial whiner. The guy who’s the victim in the story before there’s even a story.
You’re thinking: “Sure. OK. I get it. Now the old man’s going to school us on how being a suspicious guy should work, step by step, like, 1) The old paper trail method—ID verification, employment and bank records, 2) Interviews with known associates, 3) Phone records, 4) Medical and family…” Listen, friend, you’d learn more from tailing her, spending a few nights in a parked car watching her silent silhouette undress, framed in a second story window.
So, no, that’s not where this is going. There’s a way juicier “big picture” component caught up in all this. An ancient one. Pre Jesus fucking Christ, even. And though I’d heard it preached in Sunday School, must admit the only thing I really took from those courses was how to make a drum using a Quaker Oatmeal box.
Very useful shit, actually.
It wasn’t until I heard a similar philosophy delivered far more intelligently through a different, more grounded source that I paid any attention. Even then it didn’t feel necessary to start practicing the concept till 2011 or so. But the results—the way the practice of not lying alters your perception of the world and the way you move through it is a powerful, game changing force. A game destroyer.
Except, well, full disclosure, online, at least between Juliette and myself—the kind of organic, wordless disclosure that comes when your date leans on you, squeezes your hand during an emotional scene in the movie you’re watching and you understand, in a rush, her depth, her secrets—wasn’t happening.
I’d need to trick her. Again.