Me You Stories Life Time Travel Words Nothing Annoy
If you're anything like me, then you hate stories. That's why I've come around to tell some real life events. All of this is real. Altered not. Unadulterated. Pure. Wholly true. Infinitely not false...
When I was in Vietnam, I happened upon a flying carpet. Truth be told, I didn't quite know what to think. After pondering for quite some time, I came to the conclusion that I should take it out for a spin. It seemed like a good idea after reevaluating my judgment (I had just eaten seventeen poisonous mushrooms that hour).
I've mastered the controls and I am currently at 30,000 feet. It was really hard to breath there for a minute, but I figured out that if I fell asleep my brain would require less oxygen. This is risky, so I don't recommend trying it unless you're as good as I am at flying.
I've mastered the tourniquet and I am currently lying in a pool of my own vomit/blood. Like I mentioned earlier, I had eaten seventeen poisonous mushrooms earlier that day. My carpet was a hallucination brought on by my immune system going into shock and my visual cortex being bombarded with wild lights and carnival music.
Yes, as you might not believe, carnival music is visible. Fingers are a biatch to reattach. Remember that.
I went bowling today. I got 99 points. What is my problem? I remember back in '81 when it seemed everyday I pulled home a trophy with a big "300" emblazoned across the front. Nothing should have changed in these short amount of years... but they have.
Maybe it was the fact that I ate a solid pound of beef before we bowled. Maybe it was the flashy lights and glaucoma. Who's to say really... nothing is what it used to be. I remember when bowling was a communist's sport. We would all get together, drink champagne and boast about who had the best shoes and nuclear weapons. Those were the days... back then we didn't even have to go to the bathroom.
The idea is simple. Roll the ball to the end of the alley and hit some pins. The actual actions leading up to the bowl are a little more difficult. Get up, grab the ball, roll it. And for the love of God, don't slip on the greasy floors covered in pig vomit and chocolate.
I think somewhere in Revelations it was said that the end of man would surely befall us once pig vomit, chocolate and communists came together to form the perfect game. With this said, I think we can all go home feeling a little safer. Those three will never mix.
I'm coughing... I feel very sick and I just want something to ease the pain. I used to find comfort in music, but so far Shake Hands with Beef isn't helping. Usually that will do the trick, but not today. Oh no. Not today.
We need a good beheading. Something interesting to watch while eating a well balanced meal. A meal purely coincidental. Something made of dried scalp and liver cysts. "Down at the corner store" they yell, "you can find everything there!" I didn't believe them until I saw it for myself. Dried scalp. "It's all here!" But something wasn't right. It felt cold... very cold. The red light of injustice was shining down on that little store. Something big was about to happen, but I wasn't about to find out. Everything went black and an electrical buzz flew through the air. I fell down hard, hitting the pavement with my teeth when I felt something drip into my left hand. Lights flash across the sky as I build up the courage to inspect what just landed in my palm. Time never passed so slowly and so fast at the same time. The second set of flashes reveal that a small dancing baby has taken over my entire body. I can only watch as I begin to dance toward a cliff. Nothing can compare to the feeling of total helplessness I felt that night. I was a marionette of horror. The closer I got to the cliff, the more I knew what was to be revealed to me. A pit of grayish beings lie before me. As they gnaw and bite at the darkness, I see something bright approaching. It is an eerie sight, almost like light streaming through leaves. Just as I reach the edge of the cliff, the light starts taking shape. I find myself afraid for the first time that night. Something was being born, something horrible. Suddenly control of my body shifts back to me, but it's too late. I've already stepped over the edge. A grotesque wail pierces the air.
As I fall toward the writhing body, a smell hits me straight on. Something sickly sweet was rising from the mass of bodies below. Before I knew what was happening, I became intoxicated by it. I actually wanted to reach the bottom. To be torn to pieces by these foul creatures would be heaven. For the first time I had something to look forward to. A sea of endless pain. At the moment I hit bottom, I will die.
And I did.
It was dark for what seemed like ages. Nothing broke through my own prison... nothing but the sound of wood creaking and splintering. As the sound grew louder, I began to feel again. Light began to shine again. Only this time it wasn't from an external source. It was I who was luminous.
I saw it all happen just as before. I approached the cliff and saw the look of horror on my face. I know now what was being born, as I probably knew then. All the sorrow I have ever felt was let out in a cry much like a mother losing a child would make.
My old shell could never experience what I was now feeling. A blanket was lifted from my brain. The struggle was over. I could continue on with my life having seen only what the chosen few have. Hell is not knowing. Only after seeing it can we rise above.