Posted by Anonymous on 2018/11/22 under Kids God, I remember when Dad taught me to mutilate the self. When he dared me to touch the BBQ to see how hot it was. And I did it. (He also told me not to show off when catching the baseball by jumping up in the air. I think I was trying to do a cool slow motion type of thing. Trying to be a little boy gob darnit!) And he broke me down! Insulted, belittled and humiliated me with his shame. son of a gun!) I also later touched the hot iron and burned my hand pretty well. I also set the purple room on fire somehow. It had something to do with a magic set my grandma bought. But I really don't know. Part of me is starting to feel like it was deliberate. (I remember telling M. at the hotel that I saw an angel.) (That was a gull durn long time ago. So forth.) And I burned my pubes a lot. Pubes and top hair for the sake of jackass. What else? My back I burned by the sun with the blakes at seal beach I think it was. Didn't wear any sunscreen which was really ignorant and dislocatable and unnecessary for my poor flesh. I felt completely cooked. I remember it was as close to losing my virginity as I'll ever get. The bubble on my shoulder popped. And I screamed. I can't remember if that was cause it hurt or just because it seems spooky. These are some of the experiences that my mutilating self has had with the act of fire. Silently Anonymous, -The Archer
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Non-novels and philosophy by African Americans and Africans from the non-Americas.