this is why you don't wear underwear on your head

"I looked like an idiot standing there with a pair of whitey-tidies on my head. It was half past two, and the bus had just left. I knew no one around me, and no one around me knew me. It was a horrible experience, but I knew it was needed in order for me to grow as a ma- WHAT IS THIS NONSENSE? THIS NEVER HAPPENED, YOU MORON!!" I threw down the notebook in disgust. This was utter stupidity.
"Silence, Charles. I never said this happened. Keep reading," came a voice from the corner of the room.
"You said it was your journal!" I blurted back.
"No, it only says it on the notebook."
Sure enough, when I looked at the front of the notebook, it said "Journal" in large letters.
"Wait, so this never happened? And if it never happened, why is it in your journal?"
"I never said it was my journal. Keep reading."
I sighed. Arguing with Ivan never resulted in...anything. I would always get shot down, or it would end up being a pointless argument, usually ending with me awkwardly standing in front of him while his eyes bore into my entire being. Bah, who was I fooling anyways? I continued to read.
"Time seemed to float past me. My eyes became fluorescent blobs that bounced around my head. I couldn't seem to grasp reality-" I stopped. "IVAN, IS THIS YOUR JOURNAL OF YOU ON DRUGS??"
"How many times do I need to tell you this? This isn't my journal. Can you please just go on?"
I started to pick up the notebook again, but then the thought crossed my mind. "Wait, why exactly do you want me to read this to you?"

Ivan turned to me, his green eyes suddenly flaring red in the semi-darkness. He stood up and walked into the light.
All I could see was the scarring image... of a pair of pure-white briefs fitted masterfully upon his head.

I was lost.