I am fucked in the head, both beautifully and pathologically. I have Vairtere’s syndrome.

***

When the people who love me try to say why they do, they sometimes talk about my Integrity.

I know what the word means and it resonates for me. I feel loved when I hear it applied to myself that way.

I think it’s true as far as it goes, and I think it doesn’t go quite far enough.

It’s a recognition that I’ve been true to my alleged Self.

I got derailed and stopped because I was next going to have to ask myself honestly what that self was, and is; to define the beautiful and terrible disease of V-Syndrome that in turn defines me.

In order to honestly paint those definitions, I was going to have to talk about the parts of my psychology I inherited from my father. In order to achieve real integrity, I was going to have to admit just how like my father I was and still am.

***

But I can’t do it just now. The subject is radioactive and when I focus on it my brain has been shutting

down.