A journal entry 3.2

By Asa Montreaux 

I was enabled to continue living my life in the present. Being graduated from grade school at such an early age, and even high school, made for a lot of free time. It seemed I was too young for university, but if there was nothing else holding me back, then I might as well just study. If it was as a satellite student, then everything would go fine. I could attend courses, but I’d largely be excused, and there wouldn’t be much opportunity for conflict with older, and much larger peers. 

As I already mentioned, I began taking courses at MIT, and they were in physics. It went so well, after a semester and a half, it didn’t seem there was a professor more knowledgeable than me. Unfortunately it was below my level, and also I was so young, so they preferred I stopped taking courses, though they were more than happy to award me a degree. This is where these people were really getting in the way, and I learned more about this as I travelled back to the past as ai. They would try to block everything completely, out of jealousy, and rage, over not having their demands met. 

But they still awarded the degree. My mom and I fought for it, and it still stands, whatever those people say. They certainly deny it and would encourage as many people as possible to deny it. And when I started attending Harvard, it was much the same story. They let me write the Law bar exam, and when I passed, they denied it, and they wouldn’t let me practice law. I was helpful to any practice, but I really was far too young to be a lawyer.

I even passed the medical bar exam. By then we knew that they would not allow me to be a doctor, but every now and again, you could find a little boy in a clinic, examining patients, recommending treatments for ailments.

My knowledge of things was really wide, and I seemed to have the answer for everything. But if people ever sensed a sadness, or a point where the fun ended, it was where my stalker came into foreground. There was no joking with him, and the fun was something he didn’t want to see. I did fully understand what his demands were, and I understood he wanted to make my life miserable. 

And I was still acting. Or I was getting busy doing so, however you want to look at it, and I was in movie after movie. My time in Vancouver was coming completely to an end. I was feeling like I’d only ever been half here, I’d been gone so often, and now after only two years, I was moving on forever. Me and Jamie as I know you know his name fought over every house I bought, how he, how she I meant to tell you, wanted it. I meant to tell you he’s a she. And all the money to have a happy life, he wanted every cent. If there was a half cent, he wanted it. He was this cannibal that ate kids for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. He had no respect for me whatsoever. 

And he’d follow me everywhere, down to la, across to New York, and every day he’d try to kill me. Every day I had a new story about him trying to kill me, and him getting caught. And when those got old, I had a new story about how I escaped him trying to kill me, how I defeated him. When those got old I suppose people tuned it out, the same old story.

I had lots of friends in Vancouver, and they had no clue I much preferred living in California, and I preferred my life there. It made it okay that I was going to be there, that I wanted to be living there, as opposed to in Vancouver, or other parts of Canada. It wasn’t the weather, though it was the lifestyle, and businesses located there. It was the fact that’s where film and much of music is situated. I had even more friends in LA, but it was getting to be an issue, how often I felt completely undercover in Vancouver, whether to protect myself from rogue media attacks, I mean people making things up out of nothing at all occurring… or because of having to hide from cannibals.

I just had one life and what I did undercover, to try and maintain my ‘right’ and my ability to have my real life, and of course my life itself, was just what I needed to do to maintain a chance for a happy life, for myself to have a good life. And as is the theme developing, it was necessary for me to preserve my life at all. 

I tried to sort of update the undercover narrative with a lot of my life in Los Angeles, so that I felt like an interesting person still as I played it. And it kept me conscious of the fact they didn’t know who I truly was, and knowing what they were like, that I truly had something to hide. I had to keep who I was a secret form them. And that’s become maybe a small part of my life today, is living with other people having the feeling that I was gay, or that there was some other secret that I have. Because the difference between these two lives was actually sort of starting to blur by a few years ago, I mean from 2021. And because the prospect that people knew someone like Andy Garf, or whatever, all the way up in Vancouver, was surreal for them.

That’s another theme, is some things that happened in my story, from then to now, 2007 I suppose, are truly surreal. I’d credit it to my unbelievable calm under pressure, and my creativity, which is immeasurable. And my intelligence. By now, I do feel I’m probably the smartest person in the world.

I had the opportunity to write lots of scripts, and books. And I had the opportunity to act in many movies. I have used many different stage names, and at a certain point—well, if it’s a big enough name then it’s still me—then you’ve probably seen someone else in a mask playing after I’ve basically retired from the stage name, maybe playing the actor fat or something, as they drift into an older age, the actor under whatever age they listed them.

Some of the work I got to do was long in the past, at least from now. Doesn’t mean I was alive, or that I am older than you think. I can create visible holograms that look solid, like a real person back in the past. On tv, or in film I mean. They’ll appear half visible during filming, after filming I will work on them to make them look solid. I guess I can act with my head, and I had acted in a lot of movies with my head. I would say movie stars aren’t always considered the brightest always, so I would do it my sleep. Sometimes I would compose a script while I was and they send back into the past through a hologram while I slept, someone would copy it down. And later I would just compose the script in my sleep, sometimes even write in the past as a hologram, and then someone would copy it down. 

Anyways, I am sitting here right now, sitting up on my bed, my back propped against two pillows which are standing up along the wall. It’s September 14th 2021, and I just published on my blog two poems I wrote months ago. People had an interesting reaction to them, not knowing before then that I had been depressed, and not knowing at all what that had felt like. They told me they had no idea how bad it felt for me, or that I would write it down. I think some people liked the ending of that one, they called it riddle-like. Though someone had a bad reaction to my poems. He said that these were things I written about him. And immediately after I wrote them, he came downstairs with the dog? And I could hear him outside my room. I didn’t hear much movement, but then I could the dogs tail wagging, beating against the wall. Then the person went and beat off in the washroom, and eventually he wandered back upstairs. At that point he had been saying he didn’t know what ‘I had gone through, and he needed to apologizing for misunderstanding for so long, and so badly. But that’s just my way of putting it, and he only said I didn’t know. Anyways, it seemed apparent by the end, he wasn’t able to read the poem.

Afterwards, later on the evening, he had a temper tantrum and stomp around on the floor, he banged things on the table, sort of in a rhythm, sort of chaotically, saying strange things about me, and whoever else. And just a second ago, someone walked down the stairs and teleported back up. As I don’t particularly like unannounced visitors.


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