maybe you want to be at the center of everything, and so you turn on your heels and say, “this is not the end of everything,” or something like that, when what you really mean is, “this is a little hard to believe,” and you’d be right, some things, such as life after death (when our bodies are left behind) is too hard to believe. but you could also say, “your connection with AOC is arbitrary—not a product of telepathic communications, and, as it goes, email straight out of your back and shoulders.
but the truth is i was constantly having telepathic communications with various people; where, after all, do random thoughts come from? it’s just that, sometimes everything was so personal or seemingly irrelevant that our eyes would kind of roll back in our head and we’d be in a trance until everybody finished what they had to say, and, at this time, they were waiting for a response. Like texting, i think. You could talk to people right now if you were willing to wait a little for someone to respond, or you could see a text, make a note of it, and respond at your own pace.
i was trying to translate images into sounds, and I said that, and Alexandria said, “I’m doing that, too.” So I wondered, what did she see when she was thinking of me (without knowing what I looked like)—i knew from experience that it was easier to be interested in those that we might one day be able to talk to, also known as the living, because we want, as human beings, to know more of those we deem to be our friends. It’s great to post some comment directed at your great-grandfather, or something like that—maybe you know what they look like—but without hope of the relationship leading to a barbecue, for example, everything could start to seem a little meaningless—even if you believed that you had it coming in the afterlife.
but anyhow—at present, Alex was telling me that she’d accidentally bought a pair of shoes that were too small for her, and she was running around in the back yard with them on, saying that, in the afterlife, she’d be able to make herself have smaller or bigger feet depending on the situation, and that, most of all, “You’re not wearing any shoes.”
that’s the message i got: it started out with me observing myself doing something, albeit in the past or purely imaginary, and then applying the possible meanings of the content to the situation that someone like Alexandria now found themselves in—as if she were saying: “i’m trying to fit into the house of representatives but it’s getting too small for me: i can make more off a difference, and it won’t be long before i’m champing at the bit—or finding, necessarily, something to love—something that would take my mind off everything, something that, up until now, might’ve been overlooked.” so i had to consider the possibility: Alex was bound to be president, or she was bound to fall in love—but, of course, she already was in love, or at least talked like she was, and so i could see: my wish to see Alexandria in the white house and my wish to develop a physical relationship with her did not necessarily go together—the two possibilities might’ve been mutually exclusive, given our circumstances, and what was viable.
But—to my appeal, she might also have been saying that she was getting to big for her boyfriend, who, for whatever reasons, might’ve stopped growing or changing at some point, creating a gap between her and him. The fact of the matter is that she would realize that those shoes were too small for her eventually, and when she did, which wouldn’t take that long, after running around in the yard with them on, she’d stuff them in her closet never to be worn again—which, might’ve meant, of course, that she was outgrowing her boyfriend and or she was too simple to try and be something that she was not, such as a representative engaged in telepathic communications with someone that might or might not have made her feel good.
And there was the inevitable conclusion, too, that, despite my various talents, i was disabled, and, as such, i was basically an inferior version of her boyfriend when it came to making a life with someone—especially someone that was a little too complicated to understand. Nevertheless, the mere fact that I was having these thoughts was a positive sign—she seemed to be sharing them with me, which she probably wouldn’t have done if she felt that i wasn’t worth her time, as if, then, that our telepathic communications were of interest to her, and, therefore, at some point, someone or someone like me would be of equal or greater importance, too—like a pair of shoes that fit, that you’d wear for years, if not indefinitely, until they wore out.