#5 minute closet beuh.

[nightmare-catguy]

Johnny’s sexual escapade chapters (1) are a bit grating, however, Johnny isn’t really a super reliable narrator here. There’s some stuff he says I believe, and other things I don’t. He fucks every girl he comes into contact with, to the point where a woman entering the story, it’s pretty predictable what happens next. But then again, I don’t know. If he lies about sex, wouldn’t he lie about Thumper? Is she so Godly to him, he can’t even imagine being on her level? But thats not true really, he’s had dreams about her that are the usual flair of Johnny Horny. I guess what I find is that, there is no sanctuary for Truant.

Johnny Truant openly tells us a few times he’s a liar though, he does so very casually, opening up about his fantastical stories. At the same time he can be very honest, but only to an extent. I think to protect himself. The story of his chipped tooth is dark, and yes in some ways detailed, but not as detailed as Johnny can get. (2)

Sex is something that can take your mind off of things, especially if your stress response is “I need to get laid.” Sex is a comfort (3), even if its momentary. Pleasure, women, drugs— He burried himself in this shit. To the point of access. To the point where I question his point of view.

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1. I don’t think they’re chapters, but I don’t know what else to call them.

2. Garry Callough, “The Truth of Truant,” The New York Times, August 13th, 2003, section 23.

3. Personally I try to use sex as a way to evade my fears as well. But funnily enough I find myself often in Johnny’s shoes. I don’t think I’m as bad as he is though. I’m reading through House of Leaves at a stupid speed (i’m around 400 pages in) It’s been around 3 days since I started, I didn’t expect it to hook me so well. So needless to say I’ve kinda been lost on the sauce. A quiet treck down the stairs at night has my hair standing on end. The Navidson Record is a super cool story, but it sure does sneak up on you. It’s creepiness. Kind of like how I felt about Skinamarink, which is why I wanted to read this book. But despite trying to slip into the comfort of my boyfriend’s face. His body, especially the fantasy of it. Loose myself in a bit, so I could take comfort in the idea of his presence. I glanced over my shoulder to the black closet that stood behind me. I had a dim lamp on, I guess its light only punctured the closet’s entrance but the rest of it. Just pitch black, no wonder people think monsters live in places like that.

It had such a presence to me.

I looked away, I’m not really scared of the dark. I often feel through it in the night for a glass of water, my house is familiar to me y’know? But what if it suddenly wasn’t? I mean in some ways its changed quite a bit since I came back from college. My closet especially, mom renovated it. It looks nice but it smelled foreign for awhile. It had a unpleasant sort of sour scent. The wood was stained and hadn’t really properly dried yet, so the smell just stuck to everything including my clothes. I think my mom found the scent pleasant but it made my closet supremely more alien. So now there it is, my sour smelling closet giving me the stink eye.

No not really, it’s more akin to a hollowed out eye socket when it gets that dark.