If someday you were caught, exposed, and revealed enough, then you'd never be able to hide again. There'd be no difference between your public and your private lives.

That if you could acquire enough, accomplish enough, you'd never want to own or do another thing.

That if you could eat or sleep enough, you'd never want need more.

That if enough people loved  you, you'd stop needed love.

That you could ever be smart enough.

That you could someday get enough sex.

These all became the little boy's new goals. the illusions he'd have for the rest of his life. There were all the promises he saw in the fat man's smile.

So after that, every time he was scared or sad or alone, every night he woke up panicked in a new foster home, his heart racing, his bed wet, every day he started school in a different neighborhood, everyime the Mommy came back to claim him, in every damp motel room, in every rented car, the kid would this of those same twelve photos of the fat man bent over. The monkey and the chestnuts. And it calmed the stupid little shit down. It showed him how brave and strong and happy a person can be.



How torture is torture and humiliation is humiliation only when you choose to suffer.

"Savior" isnt the right word, but it's the first word that comes to mind.

and it's funny how when somebody saves you, the first thing you want to do is save other people. All other people. Everybody.

The kid never knew the man's name. But he never forgot that smile.

"hero" isnt the right word, but it's the first word that  comes to mind.