REVENGE OF THE FREAK
VOLUME 1
“But I am a lusus naturae…a freak of nature…and nature enjoys its freak while the freak suffers.” – j. krishnamurti
All the mistkes in this ohme made book…grammatical. speling, tenses, etc…are intentional, coincidental, or experimental…they have been noted. Thank you and have a nice read.
A:PROLOGUE
THE BOY WITH NO ARMS
BORING PART 1
I shouldn't have gone anywhere that day, the signs were obvious…but too many cups of coffee had me moving faster than my thoughts. Underneath it all my intuition was telling me to stop for a second. It had something to say. But I had to move…where?
BORING PART 2
Who paid attention to their inner voices anyway? Like those mushroom truck drivers that rumbled past gave any time to their gut feelings? Why should I?
BORING PART 3
What I should've done was chopped some wood or raked some leaves into a pile for composting.
BORING PART 4
What I should've done was sat and drank pine leaf tea at my kitchen table…watched the birds…read.
BORING PART 5
The bridge was tight with two cars but I could fit. If a small truck was on it you had to wait til it passed. But two regular cars and I could make it. But I didn’t want a car to honk at me, which had happened before…so I didn't walk but waited until all the cars were out of the way and then I walked across the bridge.
NOT SO BORING
It wasn’t too far away from this bridge that I found them swinging from the trees.
I had been walking with my cat along the railroad tracks. It was a warm fall day. Sun was still strong…my cat was orange and fitted in nicely with the orange and yellow leaves.
INDIAN ARMS
I had no arms. I was known around the area as the boy with no arms. Some Indian elders gave me that name and it stuck.
SAGE TRAILS
I felt a deep kinship with tree limbs….burned sage whenever I walked amongst them. Sage trails.
ORANGE CAT
As we walked I started to notice some trees had been cut. Some all the way down, others just had their limbs cut off. Blood like sap had run dry. I touched and tasted with my tongue. Tasted like maple syrup mixed with blood.
I leaned my head against a tree that had a number of its limbs cut off.
I leaned my head against a tree to listen to its heart…
I didn’t hear one.
It didn’t mean it was dead.
It was probably scared and hiding deep in its roots.
Processing.
My orange cat purred and brushed against my leg.
Time to move.
The sun was getting lower. Turning orange.
I turned back to go home. I didn’t want the fire in my woodstove to go out because I was cooking in a pig pot, some homemade tofu.
I turned back to go home and that’s when I saw the first one.
A murder of brown blobs descended and danced above me, all around me.
Communicating. Death. Maybe.
I moved and reached out to untie the noose but realized I didn’t have any hand attachments on.
So I looked.
Processing.
I would re-enact the events later to my friends…like a game of charades. My orange cat would play his part with such authenticity that as I fell asleep that night I thought of moving to Blobbywood and trying to get him some acting roles in child like movies.
When I woke the next morning my wife had left me. No…that’s not right…she had left me years before, but every morning when I woke up it felt as that first morning did.
The morning that my wife left me I made pancakes with blackberries I had picked the day before in a red pail.
The red pail reminded me, and sometimes I didn’t like to be reminded…so I started reading books by Sigmund Fred…after his influence I’d stare at that red pail like it was a move on a chessboard.
I made pancakes every morning…sometimes I didn’t have blackberries…depended on the season of course. I ate the pancakes quickly. I was in completion with my neighbor, coffee black, the son of an old Indian shaman.
Coffee black wore a black jean jacket, and black jeans…no matter the weather. Even though he wasn’t a shaman like his father had been, he still knew a lot of stuff and would put things into the air and send them over to me on wavelengths.
Usually, I didn’t know what to make of what he sent my way. I would throw salt on it and bite off a little bit to chew.
When I first met him he was on a hunger strike against the colour brown.
“Boy,” he said to me as I walked with him to the junk box one day.
I looked at him but he wasn’t there…he sent me a wavelength in mp3 digital file format…I opened it and I could hear his laugh…I turned and saw him in crow formation on top of a mail box.
At that time I didn’t believe in much. It’s only looking back over my shoulder that I see it now.
I opened the mailbox on that day to find two more rejection letters for my UFO seduction cup stories.
I had seen a UFO suction cup the previous spring and it seduced up my imagination. I burned while writing, feeling as if the aliens inside the UFO were making me write “their” stories.
I thought I’d become rich and handsome after all was written and done.
I walked back home with shoulders hunched, coffee black crow on my shoulder. I shook him off and went inside. The fridge on my kitchen hummed to life…blob o’clock.
I grabbed my regular arms for regular things off the wall and snapped them into place. The ones with fake hands on the end… ones that I could fit practical things on like scissors, markers, and coffee cups.
Coffee black always tried to use my love of coffee against me. Making me do things like drink coffee and not sleep. Or drink coffee and not do stuff…like find a shirt.
TWO RANDOM ENCOUNTERS OF THE CLOSE KIND
I would counter all this by going in front of the bathroom mirror and cutting my bangs.
I felt as if my life was at a crossroads. And so I started to wear a crucifix.
B:ORIGINS
When we were all blown off our home in space I didn’t think that much about it. At the time my consciousness wasn’t very developed. All I cared about really was spreading my seed.
I didn’t know where the wind came from. Gizzie would tell you that it came from either something good or bad. All I know is that it blew me away, far away…and when I landed, I began to grow.
GIZZIE
The day the brown blobs came I was in front of the bathroom mirror staring at a pimple on my forehead. I was thinking how I'm almost forty and I'm still dealing with pimples. I started to move in closer and closer to the mirror until my breath was fogging it up so much I couldn't see much of my face anymore. I liked that. I liked not seeing my face. I wish they didn't have mirrors or reflecting devices. I think we should have laws banning such things...anti-reflecting devices. I drew a brown blob in the fogged up mirror.
Anyway, that's what I was doing...what I was thinking the day the brown blobs came...it's kind of embarrassing to admit but I want this to be an honest account of what happened.
I wish I had been doing something more heroic like saving a woman from being snaked or something cooler like riding a bike without a helmet or more meaningful like helping a person in a mealchair eat their macaroni and cheese dinner.
I knew the brown blobs came because I recognized the sound…rather…I recognized the feeling.
I saw them before most people did. My first sighting happened in grade 1. It was the end of naptime and I had just woken up to the sight of a girl in my class standing over me. She was wearing a dress and I could see she was wearing white underwear with cherries on them. I closed my eyes to smell the cherries...the next time i opened my eyes she was gone. I sat up and looked out the window and this is what I saw...
Hi my name is gizzie and i'm a bloboholic.
Hi gizzie...cough, cough.
I just wanted to say that for the record, that I saw the brown blobs before I started to…well…I saw them…before things got outta control in my head.
Sure gizzie.
It’s okay gizzie.
JANE DOE
When jane doe came out of the psych ward for the 3rd time in her life...the first time was involuntary and the second wasn't...there was a difference of course, but that's for blobla time...her face was blank and she was holding a bunny stuffed animal.
Her face was literally blank, devoid of things like scars, freckles, wrinkles, dimples, hair...such things as worry lines or smile lines around the mouth...neither beauty marks or ugly warts.
She had a blankface.
But during this last visit to the loony bin she told her comatose roommate in the bed next to hers, the same comatose roommate that would one day become the environmental minister of Fungiland, a job she came to receive in no small part by the sympathies of her time as a comatose patient in the mental bin.
Jane doe leaned as far over as she could without falling off her chair and twittered into the lady’s ear that she was going to get a life…she was going to get a life by killing little kids stuffed animals…she would sneak into the bedrooms of innocent little lambs throughout the land and take from the bed or the crib their nearest and dearest stuffies, and tip toe out...madly laughing she would tear them to pieces, take pictures, develop, send these gruesome tortures to the family by postal mail.
…and then most importantly…she would lay down close to her eyes and imagine their horror.
…she had a plan.
She felt something stir on her face when she thought about it…she had a notion that if she followed through with this plan of becoming a stuffed animal serial killer that she wouldn't have a blankface any longer.
The pain and horror that she would cause these kids, these families would create wrinkles on her face…pimples on her chin…hair on her eyebrows…blemishes on her forehead.
Did I mention already that this was her 3rd go round in the psych ward?...the first involuntarily and the 2nd?...yeah I did...right...okay...
THE BROWN BLOBS
Sometimes the brown blobs were scary and sometimes they were nice...too general i know...but it's a start.
They were kind of like the weather or people's moods...hard to predict.
Some people tried to predict their moves...they used statistics and pie charts and triangle rulers…they used psychics and psychotics.
They used dolphins and even a sassy squash that had turned up and was now sitting peacefully reading in a city zoo.
They tried to use all these things and the kitchen sink but they couldn't predict what the brown blobs would do on any day beginning with the letters m, t, w, f, and s.
Well, that's not true, on s days the brown blobs liked to congregate on park benches, drinking and calling to cats.
People, of course, had their theories as to why the brown blobs liked cats so much, especially on s days, but we'll set that aside for another dinner.
THE SUNSHINE KID
The sunshine kid was a blinding light...rather, he was an extremely enthusiastic person.
He was bubbly and animated and had a habit of being on his tippitoes when he talked.
A local handstand band became popular and the sunshine kid liked them so much he'd get up on stage and handstand his heart out.
People seemed to take great joy from this and he wound up on tour with them...then they got jealous cause the handstand band thought he was hogging the lime light...more like the sun light...but it was true, cause when they went on tour again less people came out to see them play cause they took their sunshine away.
What the good people didn't know about the sunshine kid was that he was mentally shrill.
Whenever it was sunny, everything was pink lemonade and grassy picnics. He was filled with pats on the back and encouraging words. He smiled so much that people were drawn to the cleanliness of his teeth.
Now of course it can't be sunny all of the time, and when it was a grey day he was a different being altogether.
He was mostly filled with piss and vinegar and could be found under a wool blanket reading old earth novels...door bolted and windows boarded up.
"Keep your face to the sun and you will never see the shadows," Helen Keller said to him once when he was chewing gum.
When he was on the dark side of the moon, the sunshine kid…if heard, would mutter passages memorized from the book a blob in the rye, an influential text from the flag at half mast.
When he was on the dark side of the moon he would ingest wood mushrooms, sold to him in brown paper bags from an old hermit who lived underground. The mushrooms would open up portals to frequencies unknown to most people, some good and some mad…either way it allowed him to get out of his own skin for awhile.
When he was on the dark side of the moon he read aloud the story Blobenstein and then would wax and shine on the subject of vampires, zombies, ghosts and what really happened to the lost city of Toronto.
The sunshine kid lived in a tree house...he inherited this tree house from an uncle who was nicknamed "bugger", a known blobcaine dealer that made it big, until they outlawed the colour white...but luckily for the sunshine kid, bugger had squirreled away some money and a secret map to the tree house. This was all ideal for the sunshine kid who didn't understand the concept of money or work very well, but this good fortune created a slight paranoia and made him look over his shoulder and think about ink blots.
B:ORIGINS
PT.2 DEJA VUA
When we were all blown off that planet in space, I didn’t think much about it at all. At the time my consciousness wasn’t…all I cared about was spreading my seed.
I didn’t know where the wind came from…Gizzie could tell you…would tell you that it came from god or the devil.
All I know is that wind took me away and when I landed…I began.
GIZZIE
I was looking for an Oracle, I had been working in an apple orchard since late spring…it was year 7 in the cycle of the tent caterpillar. Which meant there were too many. The over/under didn’t want to use spray to kill them not even an organic one. So my job was to go around and squish them by hand...smush them by foot. I had killed thousands. I joked that I hoped hell wasn’t run by caterpillars cause I’d be really up caterpillar creek without any saddles!
It was lunch and I sat drinking coffee out of a steel thermos and reading a passage out of blobs and the art of motorcycle maintenance.
A black ant crawled on me. Are you the oracle I asked it? No answer. So I swept him off and looked up into the sky. White, grey, black clouds built its floating museums. From time to time the sun appeared. Disappeared. I reached for the thermos and noticed a snake. Dead. Its body motionless, Its head was still intact. I picked it up and looked into its eyes. Are you the oracle? No answer. I kissed it and mossed it.
I was looking for an oracle because of the dream. The same dream that had brought “us” together was now leading us to someone new, a female this time. And she was in trouble. Danger maybe. But like clouds, the dream floated away. I took notes though…she was standing in front of what looked like a hospital…a neon blue “H” was behind her. She was holding a stuffed animal. Why did I think she was in danger?
She was one of us, and we had to find her and tell her…otherwise she wouldn't make it, he'd seen it before.
THE BOY WITH NO ARMS
The boy with no arms made money off his paintings.
A cynical person might say he made money off his paintings because he was disabled.
He sometimes painted with brush attachments and sometimes he painted with the nub of his right arm….dipping it into paints much like a little kid finger painted.
Depended on the day and what he was feeling was how he would paint.
With the attachments he would draw detailed scenes of the world beyond, the place he had come from.
With his nub he would draw these same places and scenes but in a more abstract way.
He even had a strap on that could hold and spray paint. He'd go around spraying brown blobs anywhere that was abandoned.
The blobs were less of a warning...not quite a welcoming...hmmm…let's see...
THE BROWN BLOBS
The brown blobs while certainly not good couldn't be labeled as bad either.
What they did more than anything was initiate change, or that was the end result.
Scientists had just made an interesting discovery…the brown blobs might have always been here.
True they manifested themselves...rather, they appeared more at certain times...they were noticed and then forgotten, forgotten and then noticed.
True the image that we use...the kid like blob images is what people think about first if they think about brown blobs...but they rarely, if ever look like that. In fact they never do and that image of course came from a 5 year old...and 5 year olds have a unique perception of sensory of phenomenon.
Sometimes the brown blobs appeared as brown clouds
Sometimes as a brown haze
Sometimes as a brown light
GIZZIES THOUGHTS THAT DAY
* Gizzie was looking for this oracle but he was really hoping it was looking for him.
* Gizzie was on the highest rung on the orchard ladder reaching with a pair of pruning shears to get at a dead branch. He looked down and his balls began to tingle. It was like his spidey sense, whenever his balls tingled he knew he was in danger of dying…and so with greater awareness he reached out for a branch on the apple tree to give him a sense of greater safety. He wondered if this was how he was going to die…by falling and breaking his neck. He looked around to see who would witness his death.
* He then thought to ask his co-worker if he believed in re-incarnation. He then had an imaginary conversation with his co-worker on the subject of re-incarnation.
* He was content with this imaginary conversation with his co-worker about re-incarnation and felt that he didn't need to have a real one with him, that in the end it would be a meaningless exchange of opinions because nobody actually knows what happens after you die.
* Sometimes thoughts like these made gizzie melancholic…they made him want to get drunk in order to numb the pain that he would never see loved ones again and that he would never be the person that he thought he (already) was…and that his life felt meaningless when placed in this context.
* It made him want to quit his job and live a life of never ending adventure.
* Gizzie was funny this way.
* As the day progressed and the earth moved around the sun he thought some more thoughts…general stuff…future stuff…like what he was going to eat for dinner…past stuff, like almost choking to death on a mint when he was five.
* He thought about thoughts and where they came from. The philosopher Hume said "all thoughts come from your senses," and so he thought about that and tried to apply it by not thinking thoughts anymore.
* His mind became blank and then he heard a sound and labeled it a bird and his thoughts tried to find the bird…in the tree…he searched for the word that the bird was called…a crow…the thought about crows and ravens and the differences between the two…he thought about the time when he was biking to the glue factory and saw a dead crow in the road and the other crow was cawing over the dead body…in mourning…cawing with such great suffering and pain that gizzie thought about it the rest of that day at work…and not long after that he quit his job at the glue faculty…and he thought in hindsight how the sight of that crows death may have caused him to quit that job and search for never ending adventure…he thought and thought some more until he thought that he didn't want to think anymore and began breathing meditation…
WILDFLOWER ISLAND
Later after coffee break gizzie rode the mower in between the apple tree rows…he came across a patch of wild flowers so exquisite in their beauty he refused to mow over them…left them so when he looked back it looked like a wildflower island.
<>
Gizzie thought about death often. Of course, he was not alone in this. Everyone thought about death to greater or lesser extent.
DANDELION HIGH
Gizzie thought he was the only one who knew about wildflower island, and for a number of days he was indeed the only one. He took advantage of this and would sit amongst the flowers whenever he could. There were some dandelions that were going to seed and when a breeze came the seeds would take flight and float away.
One day it almost seemed as if it was snowing, there were so many seeds in the air…floating…floating high…dandelion high.
BIRTH STORY
And that's when gizzie remembered, but he only could remember it as a feeling, a feeling as if he was floating...high. His body felt...he felt like he was stoned...his mind was relaxed...at peace...as if he was floating...floating like a dandelion...high…
…and that's when gizzie remembered how they were born.
PURPLE GANG
Jane Doe of the deer family often felt blank. She would be talking to someone and her mind would go blank. She would be walking and she would forget where she was walking too.
She was standing in line buying some samosas at the local grocery store when she went blank.
"Would you like chutney?" the lady asked.
Blank.
The boy with no arms was standing behind jane doe when she went blank.
THE BOY WITH NO ARMS?
I took her back to my home. I recognized the vacant, blank stare in the checkout line…the inability to form words. The blankness. We all had gone through it, come through it.
Out of the brown she touched my face and it made me feel like I had arms…hands again.
I put the samosas on a plate with my phantom hands. I filled a kettle up with water and placed it onto the burner of my propane stove. I turned the propane on, struck a match. The flame caught and i moved the kettle into the middle of the burner…successful…
with my phantom limbs.
I turned and she was staring at me, through me.
Let me show you what I've been working on.
Telepathy.
She followed me into the next room.
It was covered with water coloured renditions of brown blobs.
They look like upside down hands with eyes…she reached out and touched one.
That's just one of the many forms that they take on. The brown blobs that you are seeing now are what little kids see...mostly five and six year olds...like the one my friend gizzie saw when he was that age.
How do you see them?
I see them in your brown eyes.
In my…she blinked and they were gone.
The kettle started whistling.
I left her and went back in and made mushroom tea…
…with my phantom limbs.
A few minutes later I came back in with a tray of tea and home made scones.
The window was open, she was gone but on the sill was a stuffed bunny…limbs and neck stitched together with red yarn.
GIZZIE AND REPLAY
The voices started before you started drinking?
Yes
Many voices or just one?
Many
Male or female?
Androgynous
How do you know they weren't your voices?
I know what my voice sounds like
And what happens when you get drunk and blackout?
I disappear
Where?
I don't know
But when you come back into your body, into your consciousness you're different?
I notice the colour brown more.
You think when you blackout...
Brownout.
When you brownout, that it opens up a sort of portal in which the brown blobs can enter?
Yes...and they enter into my mind through that portal and then they enter into the world that we call reality.
And do what?
Make us see brown.
Why is brown bad? It's just a colour?
It’s a feeling....a brown feeling...earthy, grassy, rooty...mushroomy
Does it make you feel connected to the old earth then?
No…to the brown blobs
Why is that bad?
It's not good or bad, or evil...it's subtler...less articulate...voices or words can't find it in the dark
What’s wrong gizzie?
I just realized you are the oracle i've been looking for.
I'm just a butterfly resting on your shoulder as you sit lightly…in wildflower island.
Exactly.
What would you like to do then?
Get high...high like those dandelions floating in the sky.
THE SUNSHINE KID
HE EXCLAIMED!
The sunshine kid literally jumped out of bed the moment he opened his eyes and saw the ray of sunlight on his bed cover.
“SUN RAY, HOO RAY!” HE EXCLAIMED!
WORDS OF ENCOURAGEMENT FROM THE TEA PACKAGE THAT MORNING
Inspiring others towards happiness,
brings you happiness
ALL CAPS
I’M FEELING REALLY GOOD RIGHT NOW GREAT RIGHT NOW HOW ABOUT YOU? FAVOURITE COLOUR SKY BLUE YELLOW TIE DYE SHIRT WITH BOB MARLEY FACE I LIKE MY EGGS SUNNY SIDE UP WHAT ELSE I LIKE TO SKIP DOWN THE STREET I LIKE TIGER TIGER ICE CREAM POSITIVE VIBRATIONS POSITIVE ENERGY WHEN I’M TALKING TO SOMEONE I CAN SEE THEIR AURA AGREED? FIND OUT WHAT MAKES THEM HAPPY LIKE A 6 PACK OF SUSHI CALIFORNIA ROLL FRISBEE CHECK KITE CHECK TO THE PARK TO THE BEACH WATERSLIDES LEMONADE STANDS CHASING RAINBOWS SUNSHINE KID DETECTIVE AGENCY SMILES LAUGH CLAP BEND JUMP YIPEEEE!!!!
SYSTEMATIC SEARCH™
The sunshine kid found it odd that a t-shirt of his was missing from his organized drawer. He took the benefit of the doubt that he might have not put it back in its proper place after a happy episode and so he went about finding it…he did a systematic search™ of his entire tree house but came up empty. He paused to have a glass of pulp free orange juice. He was thirsty and drank it down mindlessly in 3 big gulps. He noticed this mindlessness.
DAM LIGHT
He opened the curtains and the sun poured in. like a dam breaking but instead of water it was light. Glorious light. Vitamin d, dam light.
HE SUDDENLY EXCLAIMED AGAIN!
I FEEL LIKE…MAKING A BABY!!!” HE SUDDENLY EXCLAIMED AGAIN!
EIGHT BALL
He laughed and jumped into his unmade bed, rolled around and got tangled up in the sheets.
But who would he make a baby with? Sure, there had a been a few groupies who liked his energy…his handstand dancing. But at the corner pocket of his mind the eight ball wondered if they weren’t just trying to get to the lead singer of the handstand band through him.
Half of his face had those blobifornia good looks…disheveled blond hair…blue eyes…white teeth…but the other half had a certain way of contradicting things…making things uncertain…dark circles that never went away no matter how much sleep…pock marked cheeks from really bad acne and an adam’s apple that reminded one of a vulture eating dead flesh in the high heat of the desert.
But no, never mind that dark circles stuff…the sunshine kid when feeling good, feeling GREAT!...radiated such warmth and good will that the negative qualities of his facial region were ignored and he didn’t have any trouble in the love department.
He had had a series of long term girlfriends in the past but couldn’t take the next step with any of them.
He wondered if he needed too? Some days…but mostly…
until he laid eyes on Jane Doe.
WORDS OF ENCOURAGEMENT FROM THE TEA PACKAGE THAT AFTERNOON
Travel light,
Live light,
Spread the light,
Be the light
THE SUNSHINE KID EXCLAIMED PT.3
“CHRIST ALMIGHTY WOULD YOU LOOK AT THE WRISTS ON THAT!” THE SUNSHINE KID EXCLAIMED!
WRIST FETISH?
The sunshine kid had a bit of a thing for nice looking wrists on a woman. Funny enough, he didn’t like wrists on a chicken but instead he preferred the chicken breast. More of a tender white meat fan than the darker meat closer to the bone…but we’re talking about women’s wrists here and not chickens
Jane doe was walking down a busy street in the middle of Fungiland. The city had that type of energy where it felt like everybody was having a good day even though everybody probably wasn’t and it was merely the fact the you were having a good day and transposing that feeling onto a million or so other people.
But maybe we all were, in some way, all apart of a collective type of deal and maybe there were moments, a second or more perhaps, where we all feel gladmadsad.
Jane doe was still wearing her really big purple t-shirt. The front of the shirt had a picture of a man with a white wool turtleneck sweater putting a flower in between two toes of an unidentified big foot.
Her purple t-shirt was so large that it looked like a dress.
The sunshine kid stopped dead in his tracks and stared at this woman’s wrists until his eyes popped out of his head.
Which gave the sunshine kid an idea…he would buy a case of highlighters and highlight her wrists. It would be wonderful! What a great pick up line…"Excuse me, you have great wrists, can I highlight them!" Of course, they'd both laugh and she'd say “sure, that sounds fun!”…they'd end up back at his tree house playing with highlighters and balls of yarn, pretending to be kittens…licking each other with pieces of sandpaper. After, he'd take pictures of her highlighted wrists and show them to the boy with no arms.
The sunshine kid thought of that entire scenario and then the whole thing came true! Except for the yarn and kitty stuff…
…and except for the fact that she had this weird fetish for stuffed animals.
THE BOY WITH NO PHANTOM ARMS
"Hey! I know that woman, she was here," the boy with no phantom arms said to the sunshine kid.
"She was here?"
"Yeah...she seemed a bit odd in the samosa line…reminded me of…"
"I'm in love with her...wrists," the sunshine kid said and sighed into the boy's futon slouch.
The boy remembered jane touching his face and how it made him feel like he had hands again.
The boy was sensitive, so sensitive he had to drink chamomile tea before bedtime.
The boy was so sensitive that if he stumbled he apologized...to himself.
He wondered to himself, as he looked at the pictures of jane doe with highlighted wrists, if he was in love with her too?
GIZZIE
“What was the last book you read?”
“The internet.”
“Is that a book?”
“No, it's the internet.”
Gizzie looked at the guy and wondered if he was being messed with.
Gizzie reached for the coffee pot and filled his thermos up halfway.
“Books are for fags anyway.”
Gizzie looked at his fellow co-worker without a reaction.
The co-worker stared at him with a big blob eating grin, like he was messing with him.
“Is that a butterfly on your shoulder?” He said looking closer and then reaching for it.
Gizzie jerked his shoulder violently away.
“Easy princess, what is it your pet or something?”
The co-worker….xYx years old or thereabouts…always late or hung over and always annoying at all times of the day. I took my lunch later than him so I could be by myself…enjoy my coffee in peace without hearing about how many girls he's getting blown by and how many beers he drank the night before.
I’m really just pissed and feeling sensitive cause he weed wacked my wildflower island into extinction.
Not sure if it was the coffee but looking at his weak ass mustache and cocky smirk made me want to kick him in the balls and then knee him hard into his face...I imagined his nose crunching and blood gushing...I wondered what he thought about me at this moment...probably the same, except he might add the pulling of my butterfly's wings off into the mix.
FUNGILAND
THE BOY WITH NO ARMS
I live in a city that is on a mushroom that grew out of the earth.
The mushroom is unfortunately edible. Unfortunate, because people are literally eating it. Corporations are making large profits out of it. It goes well with sushi and in a stir fry. I’m guilty of eating it too. I bitch and complain at people's stupidity for eating the ground right under our feet. That if we continue then we'll all die. I bitch and complain at others but i'm just as guilty too.
Not sure what's really happening on old earth down below…a lot of rumours and conflicting reports.
Some people take expeditions down the mushroom to old earth and disappear, never coming back.
People say earth is like a hell, that nuclear war destroyed it and those that survived are warped and monster like with boils and tentacles. They glow in the dark and eat boogers.
But like I said know one knows for sure. All blob, blah, blah. Depends on who's talking and what they're needs and wants are. For some the earth is a utopia and for others it's a death.
The mushroom truck rumbled past, heading towards the factory, the exhaust pipes making brown blob clouds.
The boy with no arms had his tape recorder slung around his neck. He was recording the trucks as they went by.
He was working on some realistic charcoal drawings of these trucks and the people that drove them.
The recordings would be used as a soundtrack.
The recordings would be used when he showed the creations to others.
The sun came out of the clouds…hot. His head was shaved and as he waited for the next truck to come he thought of jane doe.
After the next truck passed she was there...standing there like a stalk of corn across the road.
Her head was shaved with one hand holding a stuffie…the other holding dandelions.
They stood and stared at one another.
Another truck passed and she was gone.
The boy knew it was a hallucination but instead of panicking and thinking he was losing his mind, he took it as a sign.
THE SUNSHINE KID
Meanwhile, on the other side of Fungiland the sunshine kid swore he just saw himself turn the corner up ahead.
Strange.
And although the sun had just gone behind some clouds, his mood was upbeat. That is, before he saw someone that looked like himself turn the corner…wearing what looked like his missing t-shirt too!!!
He was feeling okay because he thought he had turned a corner with his mind. It’s brain chemistry had finally become aligned. Balanced. He thought this was a turning point to be celebrated. It was meaningful because no matter the weather he would remain the same…positive and happy. But then he saw himself…a double of himself. Bullshit he thought. Reading too many old earth novels lately.
RECENTLY READ BOOKS BY THE SUNSHINE KID
The Sunshine Games by David a. Aka
Fear and Sunshine in Fungiland by Dinosaur Death
Daddy Daughter Donut Day by Brent
Anyway…
He told his memory to forget about it and he did, stepping into a place where they made yummy smoothies. Orange and banana, vitamin c hits.
He sat at the table and looked at the picture of jane doe again.
He felt jealous that he couldn’t have her right now.
He felt emotional.
Looking out the window at the shops, the cars and the people.
A flash of sunshine and there he was…again.
Himself. His double.
His eyes grew big. His face drained of colour. He felt the hair on his arms stand up…
Electricity.
Frankenstein.
Horror.
Horror.
Read all about it.
MOONRAKA AKA
Burrowed deep into the mushroom of Fungiland lived an old hermit by the name of moonraka aka.
Moonraka’s age was anyone’s guess. Some guessed he was in his forties and some guessed he was in his 140s.
Legend had it that he was the last living person…the last survivor from the planet earth.
That he somehow dug his way into the mushroom…dug himself deep into safety.
Throughout the decades people claimed to have seen him.
HOUR OF THE SMURF
On m___ day a man was working out at the edges of Fungiland. He had been working all day, and was well into overtime when he saw a movement out of the corner of his eye. When he turned to look he saw nothing but blue sky on the horizon. He took his helmet off and wiped the sweat off his brown. Another few wheelbarrows full of mushroom and the truck would be full.
He stared around him. The isolation of the land hit him. He was alone out here. Nobody could here him die. But why would he die? Nobody had ever died while excavating mushrooms on the edges.
But there had been stories. Campfire stories. Hour of the smurf stories.
His father once told him the story of an old hermit that was disfigured, his face melted from nuclear fallout that ate human flesh. That had necklaces filled with teeth and a throne made of skulls.
His father laughed at the end of this telling. But he never did. And when he pissed his bed out of fear for the next 10 nights his mother didn’t laugh either.
So when he heard the nose behind him his bowels drained immediately.
He didn’t want to turn around but the wind made him.
TWINKLE TOES TONY
Twinkle toes tony knew all those stories by heart, the horror ones and the benign old hermit ones.
He wasn’t scared in the slightest. Stuff in the city scared him way more. Stuff that his own kind did everyday in the name of progress. Stuff that made him at first angry and then made him walk away…run away as fast as he could…
to the skirts of Fungiland.
Wives tales, tall tales, tall trees.
He’d heard, once upon a time, that there was a giant tree that grew out of earth… the last of its kind.
It grew alongside the growing mushroom…tit for tat…it grew and grew until, it was said, you could jump on it and climb down to earth…if you found the giant tree that is and nobody had, so It was just a story filled with blob poop.
They once said that the earth was fat.
People said a lot of things.
Tony didn’t know what he was doing out here. But he knew it was the right thing.
People said he was crazy to run away. That he would die.
But he was going to die anyway. Probably die faster if he stayed.
People used to say he had his head in the clouds…that his eyes looked away.
It was true. But his head wasn’t in the clouds, his head was higher…it was in the stars.
He had two stars that were attached to each toe by pieces of long string.
When things got so depressing he couldn’t get out of bed he’d climb one of those strings and sit in his star playing the sitar until morning and then he’d climb back down and go to work.
To his credit he never missed a day of work.
Being in the stars refreshed him, like a hot shower after a day in the rain.
Each star was different.
On the outside they were the same. But when you opened the in visible doors on each one and stepped inside, your eyes would grow wide with surprise.
Not that anyone but him had been to visit. But if they had then that’s the reaction they would probably give.
STAR #1
First things first though, if you’re coming in you’re going to need star glasses, because it’s too bright and could damage your eyes.
I tried blinds and wool blankets but it was too awkward and annoying and just put me in a bad mood. And I came up to the stars to get out of bad moods.
So the first star is very basic. I mean, both stars are basic because it was a pain in the ass trying to get furniture of any sort up to the stars.
A nice surprise was when I found out that there’s all sorts of junk floating around in space.
I guess it’s not a nice surprise because it’s slightly depressing to think we’ve not only fucked up earth and Fungiland, but space as well.
But it was a surprise to see this floating thrift store up there.
The stars are brightly in visible, so you get this 360 degree view of the solar system.
Beautiful.
And I just wanted to relax. Get lost.
So I found this really nice sofa floating around up there…really comfortable. A lot of times I fell fast asleep on that thing. It was plush and deep. You just fell into it and it felt like a warm hug.
A lot of people committed suicide by jumping off Fungiland…off the mushroom.
They would fall to earth…fall to hell.
What was down there? What was under the bed? Dirty hens, moonsters, radioactive hamsters that talked?
Who cares, none of my concern…it didn’t matter. When I was up there I opened my eyes and entered into the universe.
When I was up there I opened my eyes and got lost.
GIZZIE (and replay too!)
Gizzie drank the same way that he meditated.
Alone.
Drinking and meditating were two sides of the same coin for him…George bush and osama bin laden…hair gel and mousse.
Both were necessary in order for him to evolve himself as far as he could in this lifetime.
It wasn’t towards nirvana or enlightenment or god that he tried to get to…those were just movies.
In truth he didn’t know what movie he was trying to get too.
He movied intuitively…or tried to.
Sometimes he was too passive with his movies, letting life dictate his actions.
The krux of the issue was civilization…man.
There were the laws of the universe…of nature…and of man.
Now it was one thing to watch movies intuitively within the nature of the universe…that’s where meditation came in.
It was another thing to watch movies intuitively within society…and that’s when the booze came in.
The butterfly didn’t understand or didn’t agree. Gizzie didn’t know or care by the time of his 6th jam jar of beer.
He warned the butterfly away, the one whom he called “replay”.
“Replay” because the butterfly was a recorder of gizzies thoughts and would replay them to gizzie whenever he wanted. Usually the next day after a brownout occurred.
Gizzie knew that “memory” was a spotty affair. It wasn’t objective enough and usually upon recall wasn’t anything like what actually happened.
He became intrigued of what happened after he browned out. Who took control of him?
Who or what came out of the portal and wrestled control of his body and mind and for what purpose.
His theory…brown blobs took over his mind.
Took possession of his will.
Took possession of his body so that they could do the things they wanted to do.
Which was?
He didn’t know, but that was what he was experimenting with.
Get drunk, brown out, and become possessed.
Except he was scared
Scared he was going too far with his experiment
Scared that he was losing his mind
Losing his mind
His mind
To the
Blobs
Brown
Brown
Blobs
His mind
To the
Losing
…
REVENGE OF THE FREAK
VOLUME 2
VOLUME 2
But to free the
mind, there must be great intensity, there must be this continual alertness,
observation, which itself creates conflict. This alertness itself produces a
disturbance and when there is that crisis; that intensity of conflict, then
mind, if it is not escaping, begins to think anew, to think creatively, and
that very thinking is eternity. - J. Krishnamurti
All the mistkes in this ohme made book…grammatical. speling, tenses, etc…are intentional, coincidental,
or experimental…they have been noted. Thank you and have a nice read.
KETCHUP
I Could Have Sworn
Fuck you.
I Could Have Sworn Part 2
I could’ve sworn that I put ketchup
on this brown blob burger…and this relaxation tea that I’m sipping might be
shifting the continents, the contents of my inner hemispheres.
Let me explain…there are certain
voices in your head that are stronger than others and once you know your own
voice, it’s easier to decipher the rest. What’s harder is explaining this to
your boss at work, your wife at home or your mom on the phone…I apologize, my
manners are inadequate with the best of lines…what I meant to say or do was
introduce you to my friends…introduce you to the “Freaks”…
JANE DOE also known as BLANKFACE
THE BOY WITH NO ARMS also known as THE BOY WITH PHANTOM ARMS and also as THE BOY WITH ARMS
GIZZIE and his purple butterfly known as REPLAY
THE SUNSHINE KID
TWINKLE TOES TONY
MOONRAKA AKA
And introducing…GLENN WHITE also known as the WHITE PAGES also known as DR. EYE
Long Term Memory
The Freaks were blown off a planet
and landed on Fungiland.
Fungiland is a giant mushroom, that’s
grown out of a rotten Old Earth.
The Night The Brown Blobs ATTACKED!
One night the brown blobs attacked
humans and took over their minds…from a 5 year olds perspective, a brown blob looks
like this…
Are We On The Same Page?
Caught up?
Cats up?
Ketchup?
Short Term Memory
Okay, I’m done my burger now
…I don’t need anymore ketchup.
CHAPTER 1:
WHICH REWINDS ME
GIZZIE
Pendulums Make You Dumb
I had a hunch the brown blobs were
released out of my mind, like a portal that opened for them.
Did I say that already? I'm not sure,
I’ve had so many brown outs lately that my memory needed a good jogging.
I’d been walking around the city
barefoot, swinging a Buddha necklace like a pendulum…seeing which way I should
go, which way to move…all very similar to I Ching decision making systems.
Replay, the butterfly flies with
me…sometimes on my ear he rests and replays events or conversations to me. Other
times he has fun and rides the air streams around me.
I think I've become addicted to all
things brown…to all things blob...I’ve let the experiment go too far and now I’m
in their control…I fear.
They made me do things I didn't want
to do.
Sometimes they threw me a scrap of
flesh and the sex is good but in the morning light the pain comes, the death
comes.
BLANKFACE
Gently Down The Stream
Blankface wondered if the more she let
her sanity go, the more she would become free.
That because of family and
society...rules, customs, etc...that we were tangled in the bed sheets and had
trouble falling asleep.
Let the mind go…
Free.
To float...
Merrily,
Merrily…
THE SUNSHINE KID
Pandora’s Box
The universe is trying to kill me.
I should write that down...parade it
around...show and shine it off to people.
But I’m sure someone's already said
that...Old Earthians like Woody Alien or Earnest Lostmyway, probably already
said that…I’m sure.
I'll just keep it in a box then and
look at it every now and…
SCREAM
For Halloween, Gizzie wore a brown
blob mask and went trick or treating.
It was a test.
A test to see if anyone recognized
the brown blob.
But no one did…or if they did it was
hidden, buried in their subconscious or had floated off like their dreams.
All he saw were dead eyes.
But later, as he snacked on his
candy, he wondered…maybe no one recognized the brown blob in the form that he
had it. Maybe they knew the brown blobs in a different way.
Or maybe he thought fearfully…maybe
everyone was dead…invaded…attacked and taken over.
Maybe everyone was a brown blob!?
Maybe things had been moving faster
then he thought.
And then he heard the SCREAM!
SCREAM2
The Boy with No Arms hung off the
cliff.
To be exact...he hung off the edge of
Fungiland...co-ordinates 7-7 to be microcosmic.
He was testing out a new pair of
extra strength arms and hands.
The grip was strong and his hands dug
into the mushroom.
An odd thought crept over him
to let go.
He thought it was odd because he
never usually had a suicidal thought and it was so foreign he noticed it right
away.
He pulled himself up and sat
down...pulled out a pipe and stuffed it with a chunk of mushroom.
Fired it up and inhaled deeply.
It was then that he noticed two stars
in the distance that had strings attached to them.
The stars kind of looked like helium
balloons in the shape of stars.
He got to his feet and walked towards
the area where he presumed the end of the strings were. But like the end of the
rainbow, it proved elusive.
And that's when he heard the SCREAM!
SCREAM3
When he heard the SCREAM, the Sunshine Kid jumped into action!
He would've jumped into a super hero
outfit then and there, if he had one.
Which wasn't a bad idea...something
to look into.
He rushed around his treehouse home,
doing random things that led to nowhere.
And then the clouds came and the
manic energy turned into paranoid anxiety.
He wondered as he looked out the
window where the SCREAM had come from.
As far as he knew he was all alone
out here.
The last squatter had long left,
right?
Had the scream come from his mind?
SCREAM4
Walking down the street, Blankface
felt like a ghost.
She felt like people were looking
right through her.
If she jumped in their path...
They didn't see her.
She told the psychiatrist at the
hospital that she felt like a ghost and the doctor answered by increasing her
medication and telling her she should take up "gardening", so that
she could become more "grounded".
She disagreed but she'd long since
learned to keep her mouth shut in the presence of people taller than her.
She was standing at the corner
watching the traffic light change to red when she heard the SCREAM!
She looked around to see who was
screaming but everyone was looking at her.
Some were even backing away.
Some were pointing.
She looked down and saw the blood,
pool and realized it was her that was…
SCREAM5
Twinkle Toes Tony was drinking a beer
and watching the basketball game.
He'd rigged up an old antenna to a tv
he had found floating around outside his star, and was pleasantly surprised
that he could get any channel that ever existed in the past...and some in the
future...for free!
And along with the free couch he’d
scored in the flotsam, all he had to do was haul up some beer…and he was in bachelor
pad heaven!
It was a tight game, and Kobe Bryant had
just stolen the ball and was heading the other way for an uncontested dunk when
he heard the SCREAM!
He thought it was himself screaming
at the tv, excited about the play that just happened…but then the channel
changed on its own and he saw a woman with a shaved head screaming on some
street corner. Blood was all over her...but the crazy thing was she stopped
screaming when she noticed Tony staring at her.
She stopped screaming like she was acting
out a part, and reached with a bloody hand.
Tony now started screaming too!
BLANKFACE
Aunt
The ant burst into flames.
Blankface moved the magnifying glass and stared at the charred remains of the dead ant.
She felt no emotion.
She had done similar things before. Nothing too gruesome, pulled the legs off a cricket, swallowed a live grasshopper.
Other things, like playing mind games with men…trying to drive them insane. Fun stuff like that.
But in the end, it all amounted to nothing. Not a single feeling from any of those experiments. Not a single line of stress on her face was created.
But cutting off the limbs of stuffed animals or slicing open their stomachs and pulling their stuffing out…now there was something…something that stirred inside, moved ever so slightly.
At first she only noticed it after a satisfying dismemberment.
And after many killings she felt almost turned on.
In fact, she got so turned on she stuck a bunny rabbits paw up her…until she shook with a deep shudder.
She didn’t do this all the time.
Of course, nobody knew about this, including her new friends. Of course, everybody would soon know about this, including her new friends.
Nobody knew she “played” with stuffed animals in these ways. Nobody knew she was the one killing them.
She was Jane Doe…Blankface…the invisible ghost. But when she was visible she projected herself like a magnifying glass. And that’s why she was very attracted to the sun…shine…and to kids.
THE SUNSHINE KID
Fungiland
The citizens of Fungiland between the dates of A, B, C and D, dreamed of brown blobs attacking.
In the morning however, nobody for fear of boring to death their companions, related the contents of their dreams.
If they had done so, it would have acted like an early warning signal and the citizens may have been able to organize and combat the brown blobs.
The brown blobs knew the citizens would never be able to do such things. In fact, the blobs were so cocksure that they placed the attacking brown blob dreams into the sleeping minds of the citizens themselves.
The brown blobs moved like tentacles probing.
They moved like the vines of blackberry bushes, covered with thorns…searching.
The crystal ball was cloudy that day and so the Sunshine Kid digested a handful of vitamin c pills.
A few minutes later he knocked back another handful and washed it all down with orange juice.
He had read somewhere that this could possibly open up some new neural pathways that could lead him into a different hemisphere of the brain.
He was of course, desperate.
They all were. There was trouble brewing in the caldron. The SCREAMING…the stuffed animal disappearances…strange news reports…
EXTRA! EXTRA!
READ ALL ABOUT IT!
DOZENS OF BROWN BLOBS DUMPED
AT FUNGILAND SHELTER
Brown Press
Staff at the City of Fungiland animal shelter, were overwhelmed this morning when they discovered dozens of brown blobs dumped in the buildings parking lot. Sometime between 11 p.m. and 7 a.m. Friday morning, several cages holding 38 small blobs, were left at the shelter, according to city spokesperson Jack Coyne. Staff from the Fungiland Animal Protection Society, attended to the blobs, and all appear in good health, said Coyne.
BROWN BLOB IMPERSONATOR
STOPS CARS ON HIGHWAY
Fungiland Review
The P.U.S.S.Police are warning drivers in the Fungiland interior about a man who is pretending to be a brown blob. Cpl. Brent Taylor says two people have reported being pulled over on Highway 1 by a man who drove a car with a flashing brown light and identified himself as a brown blob conducting traffic stops. Both reported similar descriptions of the man’s car to the Fungiland P.U.S.S.Police. The suspect is in his mid-20s, unshaven and wearing a nose ring, wearing plain brown clothes, a toque, and brown cotton gloves.
FUNGILAND SEES RASH OF
BROWN BLOBS LEFT ALONE IN CARS
Fungiland Review
Charges have been laid after P.U.S.S.Police in Fungiland had to deal with their fourth case in a week involving brown blobs left alone in a vehicle. Officers were called Monday afternoon to a south-end supermarket where two brown blobs, age nine and two, had allegedly been left while their mother went shopping. P.U.S.S.Police say the youngsters were in the vehicle for about half an hour with the engine running. The outside temperature at the time was about
27 C.
DEATH FROM ABOVE
Brown Press
Two mushroom islands in Fungiland will undergo an air bombardment of brown blob poison, part of a carefully planned Parks Fungiland strategy to get rid of the “hundreds of thousands” of invasive brown blobs that are endangering mushroom fairy populations there.
The next day, bright and squirrelly they met as a group and aired out the mattress.
All told…
*Gizzie was a blob0holic.
*The Boy with No Arms believed he had arms.
*Jane Doe was dismembering (and fucking!?) teddy bears.
*Twinkle Toes Tony was lost in the stars.
*And the…
THE SUNSHINE KID
had an addiction to Vitamin C, but more pressing was the knowledge that he had a double running around the city, an exact duplicate that he had seen on more then one occasion.
Even more mucked up, was when he looked out one of his treehouse windows he could see a wall of brown blobs…A CLOUD OF BROWN BLOBS!?…in formation? ATTACK! FORMATION?
He looked down and embarrassingly realized he had a hard on.
He looked back at the blobs…concerned…his brows knitted together like a scarf…and that’s when the Vitamin C kicked in.
“CRITO, WE OUGHT TO OFFER A COCK TO ASKLEPIOS,” he said with gravy.
CHAPTER 2:
THE WHITE PAGES
GLENN WHITE
Stockholm 77 syndrome
I didn’t know where I was going with this…don’t know…down a donut hole. Outside I heard the screams and the sirens. I wanted to close my eyes and go to sleep. Never wake up again. But my eyes were open. Images of burning cars, heads decapitated, shark fin soup, and dogs urinating on flowers wilted.
I was trying to connect the dots. I seesaw the number 77 multiple times during the day…I seesawed them into 2s and 4s…placed…like…
Exhibit A
Noticed two 7s made a box…L7
Exhibit B
There were two entrance and exit points if you didn’t close off the 7s…at the center was myself…as a dot…is this where I started or finished? Wherever you were was the center of the universe…who told me that? Gizzie? Every time I was out I seesawed a 7…and if I saw one, I could usually find three more in close proximity…I just had to “see” them with my other eye…if I could “see” them, then I could act…I could move…I could knock on the door…I could go into the store…I could stop and look into the sky…if it was night, take note of the star patterns and planets above me…shooting stars, satellites, unidentified objects.
Outside, I noticed a woman wearing a tshirt with the number 77 on it…a light bulb went on and I ran downstairs…I approached her and asked a series of predetermined questions…to disarm her I told her I was from a place called Stockholm…that I had become lost…could she tell me where to go?…and if she told me without blinking where I should go then it was true…if she did blink and became confused it was false…she did not blink, what she said was true…not wanting to arouse suspicion, which lead to fear…I asked her if she’d seen a brown poodle pass by recently…she laughed and said she hadn’t…if she had seen one…it would have been false…a trick played by the brown blobs…not real…she answered correct…2 true…I felt she was more comfortable with me now…luckily she was alone and appeared in no hurry…I continued by pulling out a rabbits foot and asked her if she thought it was lucky…she said “yuck, no way, that’s gross”…Old Earth superstition…correct answer…three true…I asked her four more questions of similar evaluations…the findings were 100% accurate…she had something for me…a clue to be divined…she agreed to meet at a future vibrational frequency…around her neck she had a small flute, which she proceeded to unclasp and put around my neck…she told me to blow on it when it was time…I asked her what frequency it was calibrated too.
“528 Hz,” she said…the specific vibrational frequency of the feeling we gave to the word love.
She told me her name by drawing a heart in the air with her index finger.
I touched the small silver flute and watched her until she turned the corner, and I made my way back home.
Sour grapes always seemed to leak out certain thought bubbles from my head.
A bite from a sour grape immediately after a conversation fused my thought bubbles into reality. I could take my time and look at the words or symbols as they had appeared…only sour grapes could do this.
It had taken a long, long time to find this food. Many food and liquids had been tried in experiment and failed.
When I opened my eyes this morning…this morning when I opened my eyes…this is what I saw…when I opened my eyes this morning…this was stickered on my eyes…
I memorized it…I knew it was strange…possibly forbidden…I had a meeting? In 1h23m45s…in reality I had no such meeting…on the middle bottom left is a black flag with the number sequence 01 followed by a larger font 04/30…bottom portion the letters LCF on top of the letters ST on top of one of 5 black lines running horizontally across…on top of black line 2.5 are symbols…two or three people divided perhaps?...and a microphone propped up?...on top of line 5 is another symbol a UFO perhaps…and then on the far right, running vertically the word REMOVE in capital letters.
The feeling I had upon seeing the “Meeting Message” was akin to that of the raising of hairs on the back of your neck when you feel that you are being watched.
I was lost to the meaning of the “Meeting Message”…I couldn’t decipher it…it felt like I was trying to find the meaning to life in a tie died tshirt…however, I presumed that I was to have a meeting with?…in 1h23m45s from when I woke up…I showered and ate a peanut butter sandwich. I ate standing up…chewed and swallowed the last remaining colour de-activation tablets…I left my apartment encountering no one…exited through the revolver doors of my apartment lobby…back outside I closed my eyes and focused on my breathing…in and out, in and out, in and out…I adjusted my awareness without opening my eyes to the audio sounds around me…things were quieter now…corporations made quieter autos, quieter construction vehicles and tools…things were softer, muffled…my radar circled…my sense of time and space felt displaced…I didn’t know if I was in a present, past or future tense…I opened my eyes to feel.
Last night I put on some glow in the dark nail polish…as an experiment…the polish was still strong…I closed my eyes again and raised my hands…my hunch was correct and my nails glowed in a strange font…everything else was still brown…I asked myself…or rather, I asked my glow in the dark nail to point the way where I should go…my left hand pointed one way and my right pointed the other…I was normally right handed and so I was suspicious of the left…the brown blobs had been infiltrating the lower conscious levels for sometime now…I chose the right…we were in the midst of the brown…individually and collectively it began on Old Earth and had literally grown into the place humans all reside now, Fungiland…little had survived from earth…anything material was left behind dangerous…toxic, radiopassive…there were however, individuals who had taken it upon themselves to skeptically dismiss the government and illegally went back down to Old Earth. Most never came back and if they did they “disappeared” either on their own volition or of someone else’s. Occasionally objects from Old Earth appeared in what was called the “Brown Market”…an underground market where people bartered, traded or used the current currency to purchase goods from Old Earth…these ranged from Sci-Fi magazine covers, lawn mower parts, new/used batteries, missing puzzle pieces…they were much sought after by the youth who used these items as status symbols…living entities from Old Earth like fleas, were highly revered as deities in some occult circles in Fungiland.
Now, hair width I’m encoding some strange passages I wrote some weeds ago…two people in the shape of 7s…77…two sevens together…flip one of those 7s…L7…now you have two exit/entrance points…suddenly, my mind wasn’t feeling right…I was losing focus and feeling like someone was tracing me with paper…I almost turned around and went to the left side of the path. But I knew that was a trap. The right was true, but that meant I would suffer.
I had to sit. A bench in a small park was nearby. I needed to sit. Let my mind right itself….connect all these dots, or simplify and just use one dot…but I couldn’t see clearly…felt paranoid and my eyes couldn’t focus…couldn’t hear properly if someone was talking…my forehead felt like a screen door banging open and shut from a wind storm. I wanted the door to stay shut. Sit in the dark, in the quiet. Let my mind right itself. I’m too intoxicated to proceed. I felt drunk although I wasn’t. My judgment was being repaired.
I just needed a few moments and I’d be okay…the feeling would pass, it always did.
I think I will, I think I would.
I hope I will, I hope I would.
I couldn’t tell if I was in the future or the present…felt tense…who was I…who was Dr…Eye?
But my head felt like murder. I knew it was the blobs. You could tell simply by getting any kids colouring book and trying to colour within the lines. You couldn’t do it, you could also tell by writing in a notebook and try as you might you couldn’t write straight, you couldn’t write on the lines.
How to get them out of your head was another matter, the only thing that mattered. I’d been reading about exorcisms. Or course no one was allowed to practice that in Fungiland. Well, if there were any blobs probing my mind right now…what I was thinking and feeling was illegal and I would be monitored.
I know how to find the blobs in my head, now I needed to figure out how to get rid of them.
One of the problems was that if they’re in my head I’m pretty certain they must be in every other person’s head and if not, then they soon would be.
If I could change the colour on my clothes I would be able to notice them easier…if I could change out of brown…but to my trained camera eye I could tell if they were on me…on my clothes…they looked like a stain…a grease stain.
I walked to the Brown Market last night to find any newspaper articles from Old Earth…I managed to find some necessary clues as to what possibly happened on Old Earth…the blobs had ATTACKED! there first.
Walking back home, I wanted to murder my neighbor. The brown blobs wanted me to do this. They wanted me and not him. But what if it's another trap…I'm not sure how much I…things had been slipping. The possession felt stronger. I watched someone kicking a brown ice cream cone at a park and felt edgy. I'm carrying too many weapons on me...I never carried weapons before. They tell me things, messages when I do the crossword puzzles. It's beginning or it's ending…two 7s, two exits...four 7s, four exits. What if the 7s join together? What if there are no exits?...and I'm trapped. Where are all these 7s coming from? Who sent them?…I remembered the flute...love.
I blew on the flute of love and took my temperature with my I Ching results…dice roll formation.
I built a pyramid out of cardboard to sharpen the razor blade that was to slice open my uncle wrist.
I put my wedding ring on my middle finger and then couldn't get it off, not with butter, not with oil...isn't that the point though, isn't a wedding ring not supposed to come off?
The lettuce was too crinkly, the siran wrap on my face felt right.
Hello my name is Glenn White.
I was sitting in my bathtub…I heard blobs didn't like water. They drowned like babies without their mother's watching them.
During the bath I got a telepathic “Meeting Message” in my head…by sitting in water it disabled the blobs monitoring systems allowing me direct access to the Freaks! That was who I got the “Meeting Message” from, mystery solved! I met the freaks at a park, they were all together looking like a sit in. This was the first time I had seen them, I had heard them in my head but…for example, the Boy with No Arms…he was friendly but insisted that he had arms. I didn't understand. A Blankface kept staring at my face like she saw something that I couldn’t see…she had the smoothest skin. Gizzie sat in the corner, with his long beard lost in his thoughts, a butterfly fluttering around his head. The Sunshine Kid was telling jokes to anyone that would listen…he held a piece of string that was attached to the stars where he said “Twinkle Toes Tony lived.”
Blankface asked me something that I didn’t hear but the others took note and formed like the zodiac around her. I stumbled over meaning…I guessed, told them I was a blobdigger.
They howled at some balloons.
The Boy with No Arms or Arms…put his arm stumps round me and held me tight.
I was led into the forest that began at the edge of the park…a blob of brown…a brown blob was tied down…hostage…Blankface stuck a fork in it and ripped out a chunk. She offered it to me…
“Taste’s like tofu.”
The Sunshine Kid giggled and did a Forest S Word dance.
First impressions cunt…I thought they were going to cut me up and eat me.
“We want you to write our story,” Gizzie sad, mumbling. His eyes were dark sunglasses with no light.
“But…but…”
“Stand on your tipitoes…en pointe,” the Sunshine Kid wiggled and jiggled.
I did.
“Now curtsy.”
I did.
Everyone clapped.
I was hugged and blissed and spun about.
It was madness.
I woke up with Replay fluttering around my face.
I was back at home. Gizzie was sitting at my table with Brown Market found pages from the Dhammapada.
“It’s quite simple Glenn. They’ve been here…hear…heehee…the brown blobs have been here since the Buddha…the Buddha was talking about them in the Dhammapada…hear…listen…all that we are is the result of what we have though the accumulation of evil is painful…do not follow the evil law! Do not live on in thoughtlessness! Do not follow false doctrine! Let man overcome anger by love…beware the anger of the mind…control your mind! Make yourself an island…when I had understood the removal of the thrones in the flesh…give up what is before, give up what is behind, give up what is between, when you go to the other shore of existence, if your mind is altogether free…listen to these s words…these are not relegated to the past this is now…”
I sat up in bed with my eyes closed, listening…Gizzies eyes burned heat rays…I could feel them…I noticed a bad feeling in the corner…ceiling…in the shallows…looking at me…I could feel it on my throat…a tickling sensation on my throat…a brown blob spying?
“…this is the age of the brown blobs…this is the age we are in…we are being controlled, they are in all of us…the twin of us…the evil…in this world…anger, impurity and thirst!...”
Gizzie ran the boat onto dry land and took a drink from a can…liquid…fermented from dead blobs I thought and laughed…Gizzie roared flames but then laughed too…rubbed his shaved head and pulled on his beard…madness…I kept silent.
“…for in the beginning was the word and the word was with g=God and the word was God…the blobs are not agents of god…they cannot write the word God…they try and mimick but all they can do is simplify codes…do not follow the evil law…the Buddha said…who is the Buddha but God…an agent of good…what are the new world words Glenn?...what do they feed us with…”
“You mean the leaders of Fungiland or the blobs?”
“The blobs are the leaders…make yourself an island…give up what came before behind and between…remove the thorns…have you ever studied the blackberries Glenn?
“The bush, the fruit?”
“The fruit is an illusion…I’ve sat and watched…days…weeks…I’ve sat and watched their thorns and tentacles move and probe…they are in there…living…breeding.”
“The blobs are blackberry thorns or the leaders…the blackberries?...they’re not just fruit...”
“That is why you must write what we say.”
“As your biographer?”
“We are here to save the world Glenn…you are one of us.”
Gizzie got up and walked over and stood in front of me. He reached out and grabbed my head. I was eye level with his crotch and was nervous he was going to ask me to give him a blow job. Instead he bent down and kissed my head.
“You are one of us, Glenn.”
He grabbed his sheets of paper off the table and walked out the door, Replay flu after.
I breathed out and fell back onto my bed, wondering if I had enough supplies to never leave my place…ever!
Once upon a time, writing events from memory wasn’t what a professional biographer involved in a story should do.
The old cop line of five different witnesses…five different stories is accurate.
Early on I chose to highlight certain parts of the stage and ignore others. Things like stoves, curtain colours and rugs on the floor were ignored….noise levels, things seen out of the corner of eyes and the contents of a dream catcher in the morning were given more stage time.
Others have written more “objective” and “factual” anecdotes about this time period and you should consult these…but maybe you should check with your oracle first or give your pendulum a swing…if so this book may be of more value to you.
Let’s roll the dice then and see how they land…ahhh…I see…interesting…we shall begin then with a science experiment…the title of the science experiment is…
CHAPTER 3:
BLOBOLOGY
DR. EYE
I want to know more about the Brown Blobs
What are they?
They are very small or very big or just right, and you can or cannot see them with your eyes.
Who discovered them?
Unofficially, the Freaks did.
What do they look like?
The blobs grow in 3 different shapes or families. You can only see them with a Cyclops eye, out of the corner of your eye or with a magnifying glass. This is what they look like sometimes...
...the fact is they can change shape into anything they like...they're karma chameleons.
How do they move?
Hair like parts on their bodies help them motivate about.
How do they grow?
Sometimes they grow alone. Sometimes they grow together in clumps or chains…they also like to feed on human minds. One feeding can split a brown blob into two...two blobs can quickly become millions.
Where are they found?
Air, soil, food, plants, animals, everywhere but water...and they don't die if they come into contact with water...they just get grumpy.
What do they do to humans?
They feed on what's in our minds...namely our thoughts...but they feed on our thoughts that are fear based...thoughts that fear cause...hate, anger, jeolousy, etc...they eat those...corrupting our minds...corrupting our wills...corrupting our choices...they cause a lot of trouble...they can make so much heat in a haystack that it will start to burn...they cause food to spoil...they grow on bits of food between the teeth and start tooth decay...scientists have later found that some diseases are caused by the brown blobs...whooping cough and scarlet fever are two of them.
How can we get rid of them?
We can get rid of many of these harmful brown blobs by keeping our homes and minds clean. Soap and water can wash some of them away. Lobotomies can too. Keep your teeth clean. Undergo electric shock treatment and remember to cover a cough or sneeze… this does not get rid of them but it keeps them from being spread around when others are near. Glow in the dark can get rid of harmful blobs. They can be killed with magic wands and unicorns. If you want to destroy the blobs think in terms of energy, frequency and vibration. The blobs have changed the frequency from 432 Hz to 440 Hz…tune in to love on your flute at 528 Hz and see what happens. Have fun and experiment! There are many ways in which food can be protected from the growth of harmful blobs. Canned food will spoil if there are live blobs in it. Both food and cans are made blob free by heat. Cooking food will kill many blobs. Food can be dried or frozen to keep blobs from growing. Blobs need warm minds to grow. This is why we keep fresh minds cold.
Are there any brown blobs in outer space?
We do not know for sure. Brown blobs are one of the more simple forms of life. Many scientists believe that it is possible that our first space travelers may find some. Scientists have studied meteorites, pieces of rock that have landed on earth from outer space. Traces of tiny living blobs have been found in meteorites. No one knows if these came from space or were picked up by the meteorite as it traveled through the air that is around Fungiland. Many scientists believe that our spacemen should be in blob-free suits when they land on the moon or on a planet. They do not want to risk taking brown blobs to a new place. It might be a place where blobs could multiply quickly. They might grow and become a danger on other space travelers.
How can we learn about them?
Ever since the Freaks discovered the brown blobs, scientists have been learning more about them. Scientists who study blobs are called Blobologists. They work with many different kinds of blobs. They separate one kind from another. They grow and study each kind. They watch to see what it will do. Blobologists try to find how harmful blobs behave and then can find ways to fight them. These scientists search for new ways to use blobs to help us. There is still much to be learned about brown blobs.
CHAPTER 4:
WRITER'S BLOCK
GLENN WHITE
Magnetized Wormholes: Good for you or bad?
They have taken over on so many fundamental levels it's almost not even worth it to fight them. I mean, really why bother? We all die anyway. Even brown blobs, at some point like in any civilization, they will die and something else will take over. In the nicetime, maybe I can dry and ground up some brown blobs and then package and sell them as a super protein...make some money in the new world order or I could go the high route and help rid the world of the scurge that is the brown blob...worse than any mosquito or cockroach...bed bug, rat, wasp, or scorpion...I could document the Freaks...become their biographer like they wanted…have it become a bestseller...to be sold at a garage sale future hence, for cheap...is this all my crystal ball eye can show me at this time? The clock talked...the fridge hummed...electric frequency rates on the rise...picket lines drawn in fluorescent pink marker as the kids lined up in limbo formation...bingo callers screamed and/or hibernated before a jukebox playing old time mop and bucket music...fundamental chopsticks used to pinch anal glands shut...the door had a massive gap in the bottom where wall to wall carpet used to be...now hardwood floors to be used as funeral pyres future time span conglomeration of urinal leanings...barstool upside down...falling down drunk...it's not funny when you only had one more second left to live and the shot clock was in your face...crowd begging you to shoot but you wanted to pass...were born to pass...write myself out of this brown paper bag...c'mon Glen, bleed white!
C'mon Glenn...you Freak...use that violence to start a war against the brown blobs...use it for something you sack...instead you sit in your damp dump dark room doing nothing...dirty brown...just hang yourself from the rafters...end it...who cares about the Freaks or the blobs...ego...ergo…you’re a skeleton holding a dying candle...blow it out...you are nothing but a human being having a brown blob experience...those are your teachings...forget about the Freaks...write the teachings of the brown blobs...from A to Z and all the different frequencies...document them and you'll be heavily decorated with ornaments and the bestest of christmas trees...you'll be awarded...you'll get the prettiest blob a book writer can buy...blobs are soft...squeeze them to feel calmer…anger management...come to us Glenn...open up and come to us...come to the brown light...write our story Glenn...we love you...
I didn't know how long later...slumped...drool running down...pooling on my undergear...wet...my eyes weighted...my head punching bagged...arms felt preying mantis long at my sides...feet cemented to the floor...a door creaking...closed somewhere in my mind...they're there...I can hear them through the baby monitor.
Let me put it simply...visually...imagine wearing a pair of sunglasses that looked like this…
You see…we see the world through the blobs eyes.
Like light filtered through the prism becomes a rainbow.
They feed us what they want us to see and in turn we feed them what we see.
They feed off of us.
How do we stop the feeding? Well, our DNA is inherently programmed to respond to language…for example:
"Clear communication with DNA requires the correct frequency, individuals with more highly developed inner processes will be more able to create a conscious channel of communication with the DNA. Individuals whose consciousness is more highly developed will have less need for any type of device. Scholars of this science believe that with consciousness, people can achieve results using only their own words and thoughts. The Fungiland scientists also found a DNA basis for the phenomenon of intuition or Hypercommunication. which is the term used to describe situations when someone suddenly accesses information outside his personal knowledge base. Rare in our times due to stress, anxiety, hyper active brain, Hypercommunication is woven into daily existence...remove a queen physically and work goes according to plan...kill the queen and all work halts. as long as the queen ant is alive, she can access the group consciousness of her colony through Hypercommunication scientists found out that DNA can produce "magnetized wormholes". These magnetized wormholes are miniture versions of bridges that form near burned out stars...these bridges connect different areas of the universe and allow the transmission of information outside of space and time. If we were able to consciously activate and control such connections, we could us our DNA to transmit and receive information from the universes data network. We could also contact other participants in the network." – Excerpt take N from “The New Angora Sweater Catalogue”
I wa=oke up early and see=saw the blog sunrise. I dressed and ate by eight...responsible. I organized lunch and my equipment and left early...very responsible. I walked to work. There were few people on the street. I pulled my ski mask over my face and adjusted my face north away from the cold wind. I had a thermos of brown coffee as my reward for getting to work early. My boss sends me my daily digging patterns by remote controlled pigeon car. Today's no different. I sat at my favourite place, and had my brown coffee...my thoughts began to clear. The sun rose burning off the mist in the blob yard...the place where all the blobs were buried…where I'm just the digger. I don't like handling the blobs...they're gloopy like a jellyfish from Old Earth ocean magazines. My hands got nauseous at their touch and my stomach eels like...felt like a toilet being flushed. Almost every day that ended with the letter y like, why do I bother? I'm so tired all of the time...
"You should eat some of those dead blobs, nice little protein kick...make your dick hard too," or so Billy the Adult said to me. He’s the other guy in the blob yard...worked nights. He's the one that touched them...buried them..."Sometimes I fuck em too!" He laughed...we rarely talked.
Sometimes Billy the Adult, came early with a few cans of fermented blob ale..."For all that ales ya," he snake herded. We say few words during those times...just wanted to get home and forget…grab a pail of water and wash myself down a bit. Relax and stare out my second floor window. I had the ability to see the brown blobs in a variety of the different forms they inhabited...like a super power of sorts.
Sometimes, they float in the air like helium balloons. I watched from my window and it looked like a parade from the old days. They looked innocent enough, but if you were to walk into one by accident you would be horribly burned. They did have teeth too like sharks...many rows. I had feelings when I saw them in this form. I've watched people get burned up, get chewed up...they can move fast if necessary...teleport when they wanted. I believed them to be similar to ants or bees...they had a queen blob and if you killed her they would all slither and dry husk heave about. But maybe that's not how it goes...but they must move along organic or natural lines...they're not man made...they have no technology in their systems. Billy the Adult showed me their insides one time and there's nothing…eyeballs some teeth and the contents of what they ate...they're natural...if the Old Earth didn't create them...did Fungiland? Or did they come from elsewhere...another planet? Another solar system…Magnetized wormholes or psychic bridges?
They didn’t know I saw them or they didn’t care…they’re not threatened unless they become threatened. I’m not sure I wanted to stick my neck into the hangman’s noose…but what was I going to do…fight them myself? Not do anything and just dig graves until someone digdug my own grave? Seemed obvious when I looked at it like that. Walking home I noticed a butterfly on a leaf of a tree…the tree silhouetted, the butterfly looking at me…Gizzies butterfly? Maybe a sign…it’s time I told them how I felt.
JOURNAL ENTRY 2.5.0.…just had a good talk with the Freaks…feeling social still…so I knocked on my neighbours door…he opened the door and I saw a brown blob attached to his face…it/he looked at me blankly… I wanted to offer my hand in compassion and invite him to our “Last Days” bbq fundraiser and partake in our plans, but I sensed danger and switched it up…instead I asked if I could borrow a coat hanger to perform an adoption, he didn’t have any “coats,” and closed the door. I wanted to jam my foot in…I wanted to tell him I loved him and that there was still a chance, that there was still space…still time…but I let the door close…I couldn’t let the blob know I was different or that’s that…blackjack.
JOURNAL ENTRY 7.9.7…for beginners I must write some words in code, although the brown blobs can’t read or write they know through their hosts that certain words mean certain things…so I’ll change things here and there…slight altercations but you’ll still understand the snow drift…the meaning will still be clear…an example…
Now hair width, I’m encoding some strange pages I wrote some weeds ago. I never intended to grow them to anyone and they are very personal, since at the time I would not be the only son of a gun reading them.
I’m not being…I’m not trying to be difficult. Precautionary measures must be taken, especially in these early days, until there are more Greeks…I mean, Freaks…until we are stronger.
JOURNAL ENTRY 5.2.0.3…they were the puppet masters…they controlled our actions, our thoughts…they played with us in our dreams…they gave the appearance of freedom by giving us choices that had no consequences…with decisions that lacked the finest hairs on a toothbrush… anger had my 3rd eye blind…I stumbled…got a can of water but the tap made a choking sound followed by brown ooze…the smell was toxic and I puked in the toilet…I went to flush but the toilet was out of order…I drew my curtains closed and found the switch to the Halloween lights and turned them on…orange little lights illuminated the night…illegal orange lights…I got down on my knees and prayed…I wondered if the brown blobs had killed my God or the God of this solar system and that’s why things were so bland…I prayed to make everything okay…to make the brown blobs go away.
JOURNAL ENTRY M.E.M.T.M…you’d think walking through Fungiland, dragging upside down carcasses would bring some attention. Maybe it did but we didn’t see anything. We drugged our brown upside down carcasses straight through the middle of downtown. Right through the heart of Fungiland! We stopped in a small park that had a statue of a former leader giving birth…or so the plaque read…hmmmm…was this leader human or blob controlled?…we put up our upside down carcasses and climbed into them…Gizzie hammered the nails in as we sang…the Sunshine Kid somersaulted and Gizzie said some protest words mixed with a few occult words for effect…a drizzle of rain began…I looked up in the sky and that’s when I saw we weren’t alone after all…
CHAPTER 5:
THE BLOBS ARE NOWHERE
THE BLOBS ARE NOW HERE
DR. EYE
The Freaks Come Out At Night
Gizzie was staring at the candle for a long period of time, I didn’t mind, I needed a break from his witches brew die cast kits and its various ohme made superstitions. I guess it was appropriate as it was a dark brown all around that candlelight. I did have a flicker of concern that Gizzies beard might catch the flame, he was that close…lips moving…babbling low…eyes unblinking like stilts…loud thudding sounds all around which took up most of my mind, trying to figure it out…trying to make sense…my face felt like a giant question mark…I felt the probing of a blobs tentacles…GET OUT OF MY MIND!!! I yelled internally and sent in a shock wave of focused energy…the blob retreated.
“How’s everybody concerned?” I asked the Freaks.
“This was all preordained,” Blankface said slicing cucumbers with her tongue.
“So you know what will happen next?”
The Sunshine Kid giggled, in the brown it sounded manicured.
Gizzie began speaking in tongues.
“Where’s boy?” I asked.
“Can’t you feel me?”
“I don’t…”
“Try…close your eyes and try to feel me.”
“I’m sorry I can’t.”
“Tony’s coming,” Blankface said.
“How…”
“He just told me.”
The boom, the thunder, the stomping, the falling, the bombs dropping, the building being demolished, the world being turned upside down, the big bang, the earthquake, the tree being cut down…continued.
I closed my eyes and became one with the colour brown.
I awoke not to brown but to grey filled nostrils…the smoke had replaced the brown…not smoke though, cause it didn’t sting my eyes…frog…grey frogs…I couldn’t see anybody now Gizzie and his candle were gone…the Freaks had vanished.
“Anybody out there?…Jane…Boy…Gizzie…Kid…Tony…”
There was moviement in front of me…a brown mass…Gizzies butterfly crawled into my lap…it purred like a cat…I gave his wings a rub and it licked that…with one of his antennas he ripped out his right eye and gave it to me…I held it and watched my hand slowly become invisible…then the grey cleared.
A scrying filled my ears…I put my hand to my ears to filter it out…I clenched my eyes…going inward…turtling into myself to fend off the sonic barrage…the scrying stopped and I opened my eyes…a crystal ball…a giant eye…a scalpel…
THE ORIGINS OF DR.EYE
Looking into the crystal ball the first thing Glenn White also known as Dr. Eye noticed was that he had a giant eye, with eyelashes! Dr. Eye had a face with one big eye…a mouth and a nose too…gotta breathe and eat still…Dr. Eye was a Freak…this realization made him share a tear of happiness…he had found family…community…the blobs didn’t like this of course…this happiness…so they turned the tear drops into blob drops…dropping…dripping onto the concrete…pooling…and moving…forming into five fingered blob form…the blob raised itself off the ground fully formed…3D it floated in front of Dr. Eye…ready to ATTACK! Dr. Eye found himself hypnotized by the brown blob, falling inside the brown blob…Dr. Eye swam inside the brown blob and came across its DNA…its double helix…Dr. Eye had the ability to read the blobs DNA and this is what it said…
We have been nominated…our goals are simple…we’d like to thank the academy of arts and science...to keep all humans screamed cones...we will feed and lick cones until they are melted down and rendered into chocolate blobs and put on sticks and fed to our children...there's gore, but I don't feel like it anymore...ALERTY…INTRUDER ALERT!!!
The DNA withered away and Dr. Eye was pulled out quickly.
"Glenn...Glenn..."
Eye…I mean…I felt my forehead skin rip...but I was back...the freaks were all around me...concerned...
"You look like you've seen a ghost," the Boy with No Arms said.
"I was a giant Eye and I was a doctor and I was inside a brown blob and its DNA talked to me."
"CHASING RAINBOWS DUDE!!!" The Sunshine Kid beamed.
"Can you remember what the DNA said?"
"Yeah...they wanted to keep us enslaved here on earth...by feeding on the good in us."
"Do you know if they were doing this themselves or if something else was directing them to do this?"
"I don't know..."
"Well, you're going to have to go back in and probe deeper," Blankface pushed.
"Leave him," Gizzie challenged. Replay on his shoulders opened his purple wings wide.
"I hope you and your little pet aren't threatening me?"
"That was Glenn’s first time, he needs to gather his strength and know what he's doing, so when the next time he goes in he's more prepared," Gizzie said non-violently.
"We don't have time for lessons."
"We have no choice,” Gizzie said, a little more violently.
"I'll go then!”
"Settle down Jane, he's the one the crystal chose, not you," Gizzie said with a violence that if measured, would be about an 8/10.
"Who's up for CINNAMON BUNS!?” The Sunny Side kid sang out.
Everyone but Blankface raised their hands.
JOURNAL ENTRY T.A.K.R.S…Well, how about that everyone? That's the short story of how I became a Freak...Glenn White aka Dr.Eye and I…on this date at this time.
CHAPTER 6:
SATOR AREPO TENET OPERA ROTAS
DR. EYE
A Theory...Plausible Perhaps,
If The Wine Is To Your Taste
So Gizzie came to me in a dream. He was all filled with salt and vinegar about this ancient occult palindrome that he found...trying to tell me that it held the key to destroying the brown blobs and saving Fungiland. But, Gizzie might indeed be onto something…SATOR AREPO TENET OPERA ROTAS…which translated into…AREPO THE SOWER, HOLDS THE WORKS OF THE WHEELS…okay gizzie…so what you're trying to tell me is there's this Arepo character...a God perhaps...good or evil...or maybe something in between...it didn't have to be this evil Satanic being or this high and mighty God...it could be some sort of bored immortal perhaps...so this Arepo has sowed these blobs into being...maybe in a farming context...like the sowing of seeds?...Arepo...he/she grew these blobs...out of Fungiland perhaps? Grew them to take over? Maybe…and maybe they're in some way why we can't grow...evolution…maybe we need this in order to move forward...or maybe this Arepo is in this for power and control?...so Arepo has sowed...or maybe sewed these blobs into existence...cut the cloth...a piece of cloth?...cut and sewn together in the form of brown blobs...once sewn together these blobs act as wormholes...as bridges for more blobs to come?...for another race to come...Arepo's people or other immortals to come?...to come and inhabit us...to take over our bodies and minds? Maybe they are in need of bodies and minds...maybe there's such a thing as reincarnation, but there's a glitch and there's not enough physical minds and bodies to go round?....they've come here to possess/process humans...so Arepo the sower has sowed or sewed the borwn blobs into being in order to bring its race of beings to Fungiland…to inhabit human beings?...just kicking around the can…taking the ball and running, so to speak…so what about the second line then...
Line 1: AREPO THE SOWER
Line 2: HOLDS THE WORKS OF THE WHEELS
Can we break up Line 2?...holds the works...or should we keep the entire line in view...holds the works of the wheels...what's the works?...what's the works of the wheels and why works plural...let's come at this a different way...
A Short Telepathic Conversation With A Blankface
It's a new moon tonight,
I’m going to have insomnia
Who told you that?
You did
When?
In a little while
Why are you telling me something that I said from the future, that from my perspective is meaningless and even more meaningless to what I’m discussing?
Because it came up exactly at the moment when you were stuck on Gizzies palindrome and needed help…we need to go into the word works...we need to go inside it...like it’s a portal...you know I can't see like you can.
I know, I'll go alone...
Arepo controls the bridge...the portal...wormhole…whatever you want to call it...it works the wheels...it spins the wheel...turns the wheel...works the wheel...the wheel is the portal...it opens them into being...
We have to find Arepo
Where do we find him?
That one's easy…the Opera.
CHAPTER 7:
AREPO/OPERA
The Freaks came out at night…dressed up for the occasion, in their finest of browns. The Sunshine Kid, always wanting to stick out from the rest, dressed to impress, with a brown sequined jacket/vest/pant combo...glittering. Gizzie had on a large top hat and with his beard looked like the Old Earth leader, Abraham Lincoln. Blankface was wearing a soft fur coat made with stuffed animal skins. The Boy with No Arms handpicked his finest brown plated arms for the night. No one could even see Twinkle Toes Tony behind all that star light. The butterfly known as Replay, changed his colours from purple to brown, and flew around listening in on conversations and replaying them to Gizzie. Glenn White, also known as, Dr. Eye dressed in all white with a magnifying necklace around his face. Even Moonraka Aka made an appearance with a walking stick cut from the finest Arbutus tree that Fungiland had never seen. How he came across an Arbutus tree was open to speculation amongst the freaks. Tony knew about his underground tunnel systems but had not brought the rest up to speed.
The brown blobs were there of course. You could tell the ones who had already moved into a host human...their hands floated in front of them. The other blobs blended in, they were masters of the camouflage...of mimicry…they were artists when it came to using light and shadow to appear to be not there.
Forest S Words
The opera was called Forest S Words. The freaks and blobs were all in their seats like good little boys and girls.
"I wish you wouldn't get so cross with me," Blankface hissed at ?
"W+ho are you directing that comment to Jane," the Boy with brown arms asked.
"Not your problem Boy."
"SATORAREPOTENETOPERAROTAS," Gizzie began to incant.
Blankface heard the words and her eyes went green…the colour of an emerald…the colour of a crocodiles…her eyes were of a forest green and it looked like she was channeling. The incantation was A) hypnosis and she was the B) receptor. She moved through the millions of channels, scanning and charging within a nano second...she found what she needed...closed her eyes and mesmorized…ohmmmmmmmm...
The Forest S Words Opera featured previously unpublished colour photos. These were presented to the audience as blown up scenic backdrops. For many, this was the first time seeing a forest...first the sounds began...birds chirped...sticks snapped...streams gurgled...wind wound through leaves.
The forest smells hit the senses next...everyone breathed in deeply...oxygen...fermentation...life...animals...bears...foxes...squirrels moved across the stage...birds flew in the air...a butterfly...Replay perhaps...a joke?...No, most likely up on stage gathering...looking for a sign of Arepo…all of those sights and sounds and smells were the background...on their own they would be worth the price of admission...but then the song came...the voice came…the voice that almost sounded out of the minds of everyone in static recline...it came out of open mouthed wonder and swirled and twirled…weaved around everyone until it materialized in the form of a very small woman on the stage...she was...what was she...who was she...
Blankface knew right away…AREPO.
The sunlight filtered through the leaves of the photographic trees...the song spun tales...weblike in their emotions. Everyone was caught...trapped...this was a trap! The Freaks materialized this almost too late...Arepo rose in the air and floated...hands in blob position...her hooded cloak...fell off...Arepo's skin stretched taut against bone...blobs formed around her...people in the crowd who were blob controlled rose to her beat...those sitting were marked.
Blankface knew right way and SCREAMED!
Enter Through The Blobhole: The Future Pt.1
After the many years of peace...the Boy with No Arms and Jane Doe had 2 children...little girls named Phoenix and Fairytail.
CHAPTER 8:
SCREAM SAVER
Blankfaces SCREAM sounded like a scrawl. Which gave the other Freaks time to edit.
The Sunshine Kid unleashed his sunrays.
Twinkle Toes Tony created a super nova.
This time it was the blobs turn to scream, and their screams sounded like mashed potatoes.
The Boy with No Arms had a wandering thought about wishing their screams had sounded like marshmallows…just one octave lower and we'd all be at a campfire… instead here we are at a thanksgiving dinner…
It was true…it was a thanksgiving dinner…due to a strong smell spell from Gizzie, the entire atmosphere had changed.
A table complete with all the fixings…the Freaks of course were all present, as well as, Arepo and a couple of blobs.
A deal was to be struck.
Arepo and the blobs would exit the minds of all humans and leave Fungiland A.S.A.P.
Arepo agreed and immediately signed on the dotted line.
She smiled tightly, which the others mistook for losing, but in fact she was holding up better then ever…sure she was a bit miffed at the sudden turn of fortune...but there were other planets and other life forms to suck on...and the Freaks only said humans...they didn't mention scorpions, bed bugs, hyenas, great white sharks or turkey vultures.
“Gotta know when to fold them,” a wise man named Ocne once said to Arepo.
A toast was raised and a meal consumed.
Songs were sung and shoelaces were left undone.
And when all were tucked into bed and the stars appeared...the people of Fungiland gave the thumbs up to the Freaks and let out a great cheer!
Enter Through The Blobhole: The Future Pt.2
In the future, the Brown Blob Halloween mask is the most popular mask that people wear on Halloween…and this is where the story ends...kind of…not really.
I don’t know…there were two other volumes before this one…a lot happened or didn’t happen depending on which witch you asked…you could actually read this volume first, and then the other two next…it would work out that way…it’d be a lot more linear read for you in a way…the sky is grey today…and no matter how many cups of coffee I drink everything still feels grey…there’s no Sunshine Kid “HOORAY!!” in me today…that’s okay…maybe if I rummage around…oh here they are…maybe if I put my 3dimensional glasses on it’ll be okay…the early years…early ears…this is
REVENGE OF THE FREAK
Volume 3dimensional
“But I am a lusus naturae…a freak of nature…and nature enjoys its freak while the freak suffers.”
– J. Krishnamurti
All the mistkes in this ohme made book…grammatical. speling, tenses, etc…are intentional, coincidental, or experimental…they have been noted. Thank you and have a nice read.
THE BOY WITH NO ARMS
When the Boy with No Arms was in grade school, he was obsessed about the unknown…you know, like Aliens and STD's, the Bermuda Rectangle, Smallfoot, and what exactly is under a girls dress.
His hair was bowl shaped and his two front teeth were the size of a bunny rabbits…
This is Revenge of the Freak volume 3, grade 3.
That summer his parents took him to a theme park in a condominium complex. During one of the rides a mechanical shark came out of the water and bit off both of his arms.
His name is the boy with no arms.
His mom's boyfriend was arrested for cocaine making kits sold to undergrown men and his mom and him moved to a new place, a new school.
Unfortunately, many of the kids and the teachers too, thought that just because he had no arms that he was also mentally retarded, that wasn't the case of course, he was just quiet.
On top of everything else they were evacuated onto the top of a living mushroom.
Not to worry though, the authorities were about to disable the memories of everyone that was transferred from earth to Fungiland so everyone wouldn't become too sad, although the brown blobs liked too sad…but not too sad…just right sad.
One day the Boy with no Arms met the Sunshine Kid in the pumpkin patch. It was Octopustober and he had a good feeling…about the day and about the sunshine and about the kid.
"What school do you go to?" the Boy asked the Kid.
"Hehehohohaha, you're a funny one! This is my school," he said laughing and skipping around the pumpkins.
"The pumpkin patch?"
"Yeah, and the muffin patch too! Why not, they tell me lots of things about this and that…pumpkin stuff mostly…hey there's a river with fish a short walk or an even shorter 100m dash from here!"
They smiled warmly at each other. The sun was in that particular angle unique to autumn. That feeling of wood stoves, think books, and an orange cat on a lap stirred in the antique parlor of his mind.
They ran and laughed, tripped at the end, and with hands on their knees gasped for air like they were goldfish in a tank that was too small.
The river was running hard. It had been raining quite a bit. More rain in Octopustober than any other moon month in this part of Fungiland.
The Sunshine Kid had a couple of fishing poles hidden in the baldrushes.
The Boy with no Arms liked to be in visible and the Sunshine Kid liked to be seen. Therefore, they played well together.
Back at school, the Boy was placed in a class for people with special needs. He didn't really mind this as much as he should've because his new classmates were more interesting to observe.
Around this time the Boy received his first pair of artificial limbs. It enabled him to hold a pencil or a water colour brush.
He got a kick at making the kid with down syndrome pick his nose. He also got a kick by getting the kid with Asbergers to tell the teacher to "go fuck himself."
He liked getting high this way.
The boy was going prematurely bald…when you're 23 that's bad, but when you're in grade 3…that's infinity! So he shaved his head and sometimes wore a baseball cap, that had a diseased bird called a Blue Jay on it…but he didn't do that too much because with the shaved head it made him look like he was dying of cancer. He of course was viewed as a freak and was tricked and treated on like it was Halloween year round.
That Halloween he wore a brown blob mask and so did the sunshine kid. They had not planned on wearing the same brown blob mask…a coincidence?
The Sunshine Kid first saw the brown blobs when he looked into the sun for too long and when he closed his eyes it appeared to him. The Boy with no Arms saw it at the bottom of a rainbow.
"Rainbows are cool…anything different happen to you since then?" The Sunshine Kid asked the Boy.
"Yeah actually, I use my left hand now to paint and my right to write…a kid from another class noticed this and told someone else who told someone, who whispered to someone, who wrote someone who finally spoke to the person in charge of making life miserable for students…the principal.
"What happened?"
"He called me a piece of fruit and slapped me on the behind five times."
"He sounds like a mutant, want me to handle him?"
"No, I mean…what about you…anything different?"
"Uh-huh, I put on a black tshirt and I never wear black…didn't even think I owned anything black."
"Strange."
"And forbidden. Yeah, but I don’t really like to think about this stuff too much…I like to ACT!" The Sunshine Kid bunny hopped to his feet and did a pantomime of Shakespeare's Romeo and Juliet…kissing a tree and then getting stabbed by a stick and staggering to his death.
The boy with no arms clapped and howled like a wolf.
The Sunshine Kid bowed to his appreciative audience.
"Are we the only ones that know about these brown blob things?" The Boy wondered out loud.
THE SUNSHINE KID
When he was a teenager around ?teen, the Sunshine Kid took up banjo playing. He dropped out of school and spent a season following fruit pickers. He tried his hand at picking but didn’t find it to his taste and so he spent his time using his hands with the banjos strings instead. If the boss of the orchard permitted it, he played for the pickers. The pickers in return would give him some food, or drugs in return. This made the Sunshine Kid happy.
Happiness is a word of course, used to describe a feeling. The complimentary colour to the word happiness, would be yellow. A sunny day in the middle of the summer…banjo, yellow, sunny, summer…some more words to go with happy…bubbles, waterslides, lots of money!?
The Sunshine Kid, with his sunny personality and his blonde hair, blue eyes and freckles was a hit with the ladies…a chick fridge magnet.
The Sunshine Kid liked chicks and magnets…together or separate.
With his spare change he’d buy candy, slurpees and Dalai Lama books.
With an open heart he’d practice compassion in everyday life.
People began to tune into his frequency and followed him around. Pretty soon everyone stopped picking fruit and the Sunshine Kid took them on an adventure. He was okay with all this attention because it allowed him to experiment with a theory that had been troubling him as of late…
If the brown blobs were taking over little by little and they were inherently evil, could they be defeated with good…with an open heart? He had been trying it on himself with mostly successful results…one way was by staying positive…if a negative thought arrived on a boat filled with rats, he just released that thought and let it run into a somersault. He watched what he ate and drank… exercised…got a trampoline…and also began to run really fast like someone was chasing him. He watched what he read and looked at…who he hung out with…these things added up and affected him…don’t hide…that’s what they want you to do…knock on your neighbour’s door and say “Hi”…pick blueberries and put them in a wooden bowl and go and give them to a friend…take off your mask and leave it at the door…be open…open your heart…be a warrior by being vulnerable…
The Sunshine Kid had notes with these sayings and thoughts pinned up with rainbow coloured push pins, all around his treehouse.
It reminded him to stay on track…his life depended on it.
BLANKFACE
In those days, Jane stared at her hands frequently…including long bouts, of wide eyed enchantment.
She looked at her fingers, her nails, the lines on her palms, the patterns.
Images would enter her as she studied.
For instance, her fingers told her to have the words “last days” tattooed onto them.
And the back of her hands told her to put two black dots like eyes.
Enjoy your last days…live your life like your last days…they’re coming…they’re here…when brown blobs attack.
She was 18 when she found the “How to read palms” book in the brown market thrift store. It re-affirmed many things in her life. What she didn’t know at the time was that by reading her palms she had found a way to short circuit the brown blobs in her brain.
Although her DNA, when unlocked in a certain way, either through atmospheric or frequency change, made her unable to play the game called “normal” for very long.
She was okay with all this…it gave her some peace of mind to not have to worry about cooking or making the bed.
Unfortunately, not eating or sleeping caused her to look like a skeleton and act like a Pelican which caused the concerned citizens of Fungiland, which caused the citizens of Fungiland concern. Which caused her to go to an involuntary field trip to the Hospital.
The psychiatric ward was full of people that the brown blobs could not control. But were controlled by being locked down to their beds, locked down with pharmaceutical meds.
Jane played the game nicely, knew how to move her chess piece. Knew what to say to make the doctor’s go away, and then at some point sheknewshe would be released back into a nice sunny day.
Jane liked to go into the forest after such visits, go into the forest and pretend to be a deer. On all fours, moving calmly, cautiously…probing with her ears…hearing…snapped twigs…rifles cocked?...naked she came before a pair of hunters…freaked, they ran away. One left behind a orange hunting cap, it had a moose head on it but someone, the hunter perhaps had drawn in magic marker red to make the moose head look like it was freshly cut off from its body. The moose was saying “dead meat” in a word caption…she put it on and went back for her clothes…perhaps…perhaps not…perhaps she would run away. Try and find a new day. Try and find a time before her teeth started to decay…she needed to find a suitcase filled with money. Needed a job so she could get some more tattoos. Her Blankface wouldn’t tell stories but her tattoo’s would…she would get a beauty mark tattooed on her cheek…crows feet at the corners of her eyes…she day dreamed of getting tattooed scars…a big one on her side where a shark, a big shark took a chunk…tattooed stitches....maybe a tattooed beard…men always looked at her like she was queer…oh dear…
Oh Jane Doe of the deer family, what will become of you on this night…a long way to first light.
GIZZIE
and Replay
The fog rolled into Gizzies mind…in those early days “Replay” was an orange tabby cat. They recited the 8 Precepts back and forth to each other. Gizzie swung a necklace with the Buddha’s head back and forth in front of Replay the cat like a pendulum. He was verging on being a strict vegetarian but living in seclusion in the mountains forced him to alter certain ideals. He made these small ohme made notebooks, like journals for himself...keepsakes…cook books…herbal discoveries…animal dialogues, including a very interesting conversation with a mountain lion that hinted at cutting each others faces off and trading them…huh?...but mostly he kept busy with housework…cleaning and sweeping out the mountain cave that he squatted in. It was formerly a bears den…well I guess it still was…they came to an agreement…Gizzie and Replay could have it in spring, summer and early fall.
There was a sense of “can do” in Gizzies strides those days…the snale use was mastered…he lived by the seasons. Kept in shape by hiking and chopping wood…scavenged for berries and mushrooms…meditated on and off the cushion…everything was meditation. In fact he was on top of his thoughts like standing on top of a mountain…the feeling of…people became attracted to his being and thus began his fall down…pilgrimages and gifts were placed at his cave entrance….cat food and snale. At first he thought of eating the cat food and giving Replay the snale….fleeting…he chugged the snale down like the drunken monk his father was…or who he thought was his father. He liked to gather and eat wild salads…fiddleheads…foraging on the outskirts of hymen habitation like a fox…shine a flashlight and you might have see him out of the corner of your eyes.
That’s how he met Jane Doe and they fucked one another like only a fox and a deer could. Replay replayed their sexual movements nightly in front of the fire…their entertainment.
Jane was wilder with her style and refused to bathe at the neutral hot milk springs they’d spent a week hiking too.
She had found a valley filled with marijuana and she would often steal some and then sell it in the city. After every city run she’d have a new tattoo.
While she was away, Gizzie would often flog himself with cedar bark to keep himself in line. A walk across the fire barefoot would also serve as a reminder to stay focused and not fall back into mankinds follies.
His fear of corruption made Jane laugh and feel horny at the same time.
She planted many a seed in Gizzies head in those days, before she had all her face tattoos removed by laser flashlights.
Back then she hated her blank face.
Not anymore.
Replay loved to do dinosaur puppet shows with his hands, dancing around the fire shadows.
Gizzie loved Replay so much it showed. Jane and her inability to show her emotions looked at this…like cute.
She looked at Gizzie and Replay not with jeolousy but with a robots cold grace.
A jagged thought to kill Replay to bring a challenge to Gizzies meditation was left, thankfully on the cave bed floor.
B. There’s more of us out there you know, and the brown blobs are coming in with the fog.
G. I know a brown blob has already been spotted on the outskirts of my mind.
B. What are you going to do?
G. When I’m strong enough I’ll come back down the mountain.
B. And save the world?
G. To help it.
B. Have you ever tasted a brown blob?
G. No, have you!
B. Found one dead and rotting, smelled like tofu.
G. It’s time for you to go.
B. Happy Halloween.
MOONRAKA AKA
“Happy Halloween Mister Aka, are you going trick or treating tonight?”
“I’ve lost my slipper and need to clean out my urine jars…so no.”
The teacher watched the man shuffle away…what a queer man Mister Aka is, she thought to herself and then turned back to other pressing matters like furniture upholstery, more specifically the red wine stains on her white leather couch at home and how she was in deep shit because she wasn’t supposed to be drinking anymore and her husband was due to arrive home tomorrow.
Strange but people usually left off with Mister Aka in such ways. Even at a young age Mister Aka looked elderly. White hair, hunched back and a shuffling gait left people stunned to find out he was only 23. Most people on first glance believed him to be 63.
Mister Aka or Moonraka Aka or just Moonraka lived in a fortified underground…it was fortified with Vitamin D, which helped immensely when you lived underground and seldom saw the sun.
He had carved it all out by hand. The soft mushroom of Fungiland made it easy to do so.
He seldom left, but a missing slipper had altered his mood and led him on a fact finding mission above ground where he ran into a want ad poster looking for a part time teacher in the field of alternative underground dwellings.
Too much of a coincidence to pass up he applied and much to his delight was hired at the University of Fungiland.
A queer fellow, the female students often spent time giggling behind their books at him and the males just sat and swirled their trendy moosestaches.
Living underground, now that’s not going to get the girls pregnant is it Mister Aka?
But he didn’t care…did…dig…digging was his favourite thing to do.
He also liked to relax in his tea time garden…grow rainbow coloured mold and segregate used and new batteries.
What he was digging towards of course was Old Earth…and he was almost there.
If he continued to trust what his intestines said, he would be walking around the earth in less than a year.
Of course, he told no one this…he knew all about the blobs and what they were capable of. And he knew that they would not like it to slip out that they were the ones that had destroyed earth and most of its inhabitants. The people of Fungiland if faced with such knowledge would frown and prove to be difficult. Tensions would rise and dialogues between humans and blobs would begin, and if its one thing blobs hated…it was meetings.
They also didn’t like to be confused. For instance, Moonraka ate breakfast at dinner…he did this without the knowledge that it kept the blobs in his brain off kilter.
One time he dug into a burial chamber filled with brown blobs.
He realized a couple of things that day. Brown blobs smelt like tofu and so did the mushroom he was digging.
Which lead to an interesting thought…instead of a mushroom was he possibly inside a giant brown blob?!
TWINKLE TOES TONY
Who cares…or who gives a shit!...was a common mantra for Twinkle Toes Tony.
His work in the Hollywood star system made such cynicisms straight like a shot of ja5ck and a chaser of snale on a bitter day.
It wasn’t always like this. He used to sit on top of his car and watch the shooting stars on a clear night, it caused such starlight delight on his face, such kid like joy that he radiated.
He tapped into this radiation when he acted in films and that’s how he did moderately well in the shoe business…I mean, show business.
He transferred from romantic comedies to musicals to starring and performing in his own show called “THE TWINKLE TOES TONY and friends shower hour”. His “friends” being a number of bisexual stuffed animals, plastic war figures, finger puppets. The “shower” was where he performed his act…strange and forbidden I know, but true!
The critics hated it but the kids and most of the moms loved him and it!
He basked in the glow of success for awhale…until the glow got dark and he needed a bright light to see again.
One night coming home from the bar he saw a stuffed animal. A brown, tentacled thing…he picked it up and noticed 4 of the tentacle blob things had been ripped out. The smell of tofu lingered. He touched the stuffing and dabbed his finger into blood? From a stuffed animal?!
A trail of blood and stuffing led him to a parking lot where a woman was sitting on a curb ripping one of the brown blob stuffies apart. She heard him approach but did not look up.
“They’re coming…they’re here…” she said.
“Who’s here?”
She cackled, “We’re all gonna die you know…the universe is trying to kill us.”
“I’ve heard that before…revenge of the freak volume 2…are you okay? Are you hungry?”
She cackled again and looked up to face him…to look at his face.
“Hi Tony, I’m Blankface.”
“How did you know me?”
“You’re Twinkle Toes Tony…not that hard to guess.”
“Why are you doing that?”
“Makes me believe that my vote counts.”
“Your vote in what?”
“C’mon Tony, you know as well as I do what the fuck is going on and you either bring it up to your consciousness, articulate it and do something about it or go hide in the stars.”
Twinkle Toes Tony stood frozen like a popsicle on a stick. Who was this harlot talking gypsy!? But something began to dislodge from the ocean floor and entered into his drift stream.
“They are everywhere,” she continued, “and in everything. Outside of us and inside us…they have no name but what we name them…they are heaven and hell…they are friends to the weak…enemies to us all…they are the spilled coffee stain on the crotch of your pants…interest rates go up…while the mortgages are easier to receive…like the whale’s mouth you trick yourself with biblical passages and train yourself to believe…
“Brainwash?”
“Highly developed organisms upside down, bat like in the cathedral of your mind…”
“Viruses?”
“When the temperature is humid they will drop, when the light dims they take flight.”
“Blobs…brown blobs.”
“You see…you see what I see…”
“I’m afraid…”
“Be afraid…it’ll make you stronger…”
“Ready to die.”
“Ready to survive.”
“There’s others like us?”
“There are.”
“Where do you get your signals from.”
“I don’t know.”
“The stars perhaps?”
“Perhaps then that’s your mission.”
“How will I distinguish between the signals the brown blobs give off and what I’m supposed to be listening for?”
“Keep your antennas clear and you’ll feel the difference…one will give an uncomfortable heat…and itch, like something crawling on you, biting you.”
“And the other?”
“Twinkle, twinkle little star…now you’ll leave me.”
Blankface focused back to her ripping and tearing…out of its disorder she would create order…take pieces of these blob stuffies and add them to other stuffies…innocent stuffies…blobs mixed with bunnies and teddy bears.
The next day Twinkle Toes Tony bought a really long rope made of hemp and attached a grappling hook to it. He waited until night and then climbed on top of his roof. He made a prayer…he steadied his mind and with no thought swung the rope round and round with such speed it became a blur and then he threw up… and up it flew.
WILLIAM BROWN
William brown moved like a mattress filled with bed bugs.
He really enjoyed going into pet stores and staring at the fish in their tanks. It was one of the only or few moments in the day when his mind felt at peace.
It was Halloween, October 31st 2013. William brown had just gotten out of the holding cell at the local jail around 5am. His 9 hours in a cell was not without purpose. The white cell was perfect for locating the brown blobs on his clothing. His nails were sufficiently manicured to pick them off and eat them with. When that was done or until the next round of brown blob eggs hatched… he also spent time chipping off the glow in the dark nail polish on his finger nails.
BRETT DANIEL TAYLOR
Hi, I’m…
BRETT DANIEL TAYLOR!
AND THIS IS MY RESUME!
Why you should hire me right now!
1) Positive mental attitude…this is very important to stay mentally and physically healthy, if I’m working with a team or by myself I pride myself on staying balanced.
2) Hardworking…I give 100% of myself and receive personal satisfaction from a job well done.
3) Professional…I arrive to work on time, focus on the task at hand, and provide zero drama.
4) Self-motivated…I strive to do the best job possible.
A brief history lesson
My wife, daughter and I recently moved to Nanaimo after spending some time on an Alpaca farm and running a small thrift store business in the Kootenays.
My last job…
Was at Merridale Cidery in Cobble Hill, where I worked as a fulltime landscaper. I also helped to set up weddings and bottle the cider.
What I’m looking for…
Is an environment that is positive and validates my hard work.
Some of my past work experiences…
Film industry, restaurants, daycare, special needs care worker, office cleaner, handyman, farmer, thrift store owner, garden sculptor.
In the end…
I would love to hear more about what you need and how I can be of assistance to you!
I have excellent references upon request!
Thank you for you time.
GLENN WHITE
…also known as Glenn “eggshell” White, was sitting with his eye closed in the steam room with 77 other people. He had come in there originally to think about his early years, his early ears, but realized he was more eye than ear, and so he opened his eye to see. The problem was that he couldn’t see into the past very well…well he could, but he didn’t feel like it…he actually hated the past and so one day he moved a really big cement block in front of the past…it was a pain in the ass to move, and so did its job. He wanted to be part of volume 3dimensional, because he liked the title, rather he liked the way “3dimensional” looked on paper…the issue was that, because he never liked to go back to the past, he didn’t have anything to contribute from his early years. That’s when he had an idea, “I’ll close my eye and open my ear and I’ll contribute to Revenge of the Freak that way!” And so he leaned back against the white tiles in the steam room and blended in until he became in visible and opened up his ears…
He was 23
43?
I think he was 33
Isn’t that when Jesus died?
I heard he was 43
Jesus!?
No the guy that died on the bloborcycle
I’m sure I read that he was 33
His wife was behind him in another car and saw him lose control and hit the cement divider
Did he die?
Instantly
And his wife saw that?
It might’ve been his girlfriend and not wife, but yeah she saw him crash
See I don’t think you should be riding a bloborcycle until you’re over 50
How about until you’re blobtized?
But you can be blobtized when you’re a baby
How about over 50 and blobtized then?
Was the bloborcycle a write off?
At first, but it self repaired and went off to be sold again
Do you think the brown blobs did it on purpose?
A possibility
Most likely, they have odd senses of humour
Tragic
Well, like that Old Earthian Woody Alien said, “I don’t believe in an afterlife, although I’m bringing a change of underwear!”
Haha, yeah just in case
Is the steam on?
You can tell if the red lights on
I can’t see the red light
Then the steam must be on
Haha, right
REVENGE OF THE FREAK
Volume 4…begin again
“But I am a lusus naturae…a freak of nature…and nature enjoys its freak while the freak suffers.”
– J. Krishnamurti
All the mistkes in this ohme made book…grammatical. speling, tenses, etc…are intentional, coincidental, or experimental…they have been noted. Thank you and have a nice read.
NORMAL
Normality. Normal. Running is normal. When I see someone running, well I should call it jogging, because running can mean something not normal, like running from…but jogging…when I see someone jogging I think, “Oh that’s normal. They just got home from work…an office job, where they’ve been sitting all day. They need to feel their body move…stretches, smoothies with protein, high carb diets, workout routines, natural highs. Normal, like wearing Nike apparel. Balanced, like one glass of wine and they’re fine. Limited internet time. Dinner parties with friends. Family visits where everyone gets along. Got a mortgage and a new car that’s leased, both with half decent interest rates. Planned marriages and planned children.” That’s what I think when I see someone jogging, and I start thinking about how I gotta start jogging cause that looks nice, looks safe, looks normal.
PARANORMAL
The sea entered the river. The river gurgled contentedly. Post coital renaissance pictures drawn by hand in candle light…thick drapes the colour of merlot.
So this is the land that william brown has come to. Iron ore shafts of light lead the way. One rickety wooden boat filling with water at an hour glass rate. Time to land.
Jeweled teeth bred from pterodactyl eggs, glistened in anticipation of fangs sinking into fish flesh. Dollar sign necklace glistened and listened to alphabet songs sung at a low frequency.
Collared rainbow mink curls around william brown’s neck, as ocean air chills.
Upon landing, an open fire is made in full frontal view of joggers and walkers, who bend, but don’t break…ignoring such visuals of past hunter gatherer type rituals put on display.
william brown ate and laughed. He had arrived and there was much to celebrate.
The entering into consciousness is nothing…short of a lawn chair view of a super nova…to sneeze at.
OPEECHEE
Look I don’t know, I don’t know the day the brown blobs came exactly…if you’re looking for answers, conclusions, I just don’t have them. All I know is when the portal opened a man from the other side stepped through, and a hamster too, but that’s in another story. The man of course, was william brown, and I believed him to be…well, what I think now looking back, was that he was a brown blob dressed as a man. The entity, for he was just that, made me do things…no…it was subtler than that…he was…he was not looking out for me, that is something for sure. His intent was to slowly take full possession of my mind and once done he could run my body, my actions anyway he saw fit. william brown is a blob and the day he came I must’ve left the door ajar. He came in softly, took off his hat and made himself at home. When I saw him I was surprised, but in the course of conversation he quickly…we became close…like distant family…things in common…certain experiences. And whenever he came, we drank, sometimes we smoked weed or did mushrooms. That’s when he made his attempts. He broke me down until I was broken, the pieces put in a coffin and made to bury. But I wasn’t dead and when I realized what his intentions were, I fought back in the only way I could…I fought back with my imagination…the boy with no arms, gizzie and replay, the sunshine kid, twinkle toes tony, blankface, moonraka aka, glenn white…they were my weapons and they helped save me.
william brown went back through the portal in which he came but I knew, I knew he would come again…and I also knew that the next time he came and got back in…I wouldn’t win.
RVNGE 4
He liked…I liked…confusing I know…william brown liked the night…moving with the moon…standing just to the side…watching like a gargoyle…observing…participating…reading…selling Pikachu tails…chapstick belts…marker necklaces…road kill trading cards…ohme made books…get someone to join his cult…read some poems…tell some jokes…get some change tossed into his wig…grab something fermented if it was enough.
william brown liked the shadows of the night…the creases in the pants. He liked the blue Christmas lights they had around the trees…
Sometimes an orange Tabby cat followed him at night. The cat reminded him of…he didn’t like to be reminded. But it’s hard to ditch a cat, unless they want to be ditched.
Once upon a time, there was a house with a big tv inside. The tv was almost as big as the house. william brown stood very still on the lawn, like a doe…john doe he joked to himself…it was a cold night, but he didn’t feel it. He stood and watched a steak commercial and then a cartoon came on with a little girl and her bunny rabbit friend. A family, a real family was inside. They were busy preparing dinner…the children were helping set the table…they didn’t notice john doe outside, with his head caulked to the side…they didn’t notice me…when I was with…didn’t have a tv…the mind has many channels…sometimes it looks as if william brown is staring blankly into outer space, but he’s just watching his mind…lost and found…like words that disappear and reappear…revenge four…rvnge for…
KEEPING IT SIMPLE
Look, I know it sounds crazy…possession…but I was possessed. Where this entity came from, where these brown blobs came from I don’t know. A flip back through telepathic dream journals tells me little. Any and all psychedelic experiments were conducted by william brown, and therefore he controlled what I experienced. Nothing could be traced. When I told anyone this they either frowned or brushed their hair. It was simple though…it was simply a case of possession by an evil force not of this planet!
THE CHILDREN’S TREEHOUSE
Walking, walked past…rather, william brown walked past a toy store, it was having its grand opening and a bunch of helium balloons were on the grand opening sign. A couple dozen balloons in different colours…he took the brown ones and popped the rest. Pulling out his marker necklace he took off a black marker and drew a brown blob on each balloon. He smiled and walked down the street, handing out these brown blob balloons to the kids he met on the way…he came across a Santa Claus parade later that day.
DOES WILLIAM BROWN DREAM OF ELECTRIC SHEEP?
Look, you don’t have to believe any of this. Revenge of the Freak can be just a story…a story filled with strange things and loose ends, a piece of science fiction if you wish…mere fantasy. But I know it was all too real, the battle for possession rights of my soul with the entity known as william brown. Add to the fact that he wasn’t william brown but a brown blob…and what is a brown blob? Well that was covered in Volume 2…it’s a force of evil…a parasite…like bacteria it can be good or bad for you. All those friends of mine…the boy with no arms, gizzie, etc…were all different aspects of me…split off from me, blown off like a dandelion seed…broken parts of me trying to find their way back home…trying to put me back together again…after my breakdown…
HUMPTY DUMPTY
She told me that “Tiny Hop” was missing. Tiny Hop had been with my daughter since birth…she was family. I asked her where Tiny Hop was last seen…approximately where they had been walking so I could retrace their steps as best I could. I put up “MISSING” posters in the area. Snow had fallen making progress slow. Nothing until I got an “anonymous” letter in the mail, telling me that I would find what I was looking for in the Graveyard nearby. I checked and they had indeed walked through the Graveyard on that day Tiny Hop went missing.
I found Tiny Hop under a sickle shaped moon…wish I didn’t…wished upon a star. But star wishes can’t go back in time and change events. I had already experimented/tested that. Tiny Hop was cut…ripped…blood?...on its fur…on its stuffing! Its head was separated from its birth canal. All of it was resting on a gravestone. The name on the gravestone had the name “Glenn White” on it. Who did this? But we know who did this. I picked up the remains thinking I could put Tiny Hop back together again…thinking maybe…maybe it would help put my family back together again.
LOST AND FOUND
Look, I almost lost everything beginning with my wife and daughter. I lost jobs and I lost items of remembrance…antiques…attic room trunks with costumes and music box ballet dancers. I was stripped of friendships and community…set adrift…wandering along rain tracks I saw the brown blobs in others eyes…along railway tracks they laid…on barstools they sat…on city streets they drifted…if you didn’t look them in the eye…if you saw them from the side you could see…the brown…the blobs.
PUBLIC LIBRARY
william brown sat in the town library with a brown aura around him. The aura of brown was so strong that it attracted and repelled. Humans that were attracted sat like crows and rats around him. He conversed in a language that no human could understand...for what he said was based on old riddles that only mermaids strapped to boat masts would dare to repeat. The tone was whispered and dank. Those around him drank it all in. He sent them away and went to the washroom to wash his hands. When he came out he smiled.
KASPAR HAUSER IN Y-LAND
Look it doesn’t happen overnight. It was good times with willy bee for awhile there. He made you feel like you were living life to its fullest. You felt like you were seeing things from on top of a rainbow and everything glowed…even in the dark. One time I got violently sick from eating a Lobster mushroom. I found out that the lobster mushroom wasn’t a mushroom but a parasite that’s attached itself to the original mushroom and grown from there. It’s poisonous to some, was poisonous to me…maybe that’s how the brown blob came into me, from that lobster mushroom and then slowly grew from there. I mean, it’s easy to blame it on your childhood experiences, or the booze, or the mental illness…but it wasn’t true. Earth is not the only planet. Humans and its inhabitants are not the only living things in the entire universe. There are other forces at work and most definitely some do not have our best interests at heart.
I can tell immediately if a brown blob is in someone. It scares me to think how many people have brown blobs in them. Is that why everything is so fucked up? I stood in the backyard looking at the blackberry bushes…at their probing tentacles…their thorns…the brown blobs, if you looked at them through a microscope had sharp thorns all over their body and arms…it was how they attached themselves to your mind…and then they would probe. Opening and closing doors with Akashic record skeleton keys. Opening up locked doors, padlocked doors…ones that led to the crawl spaces…and the attic spaces of your mind. Stuff you never ever wanted to see again…but they saw…and they made you see…see/saw…stuff you had buried they dug up…
I had to write this story the way I did so that I could find them. So I could see them. See the brown blob in me, and once I could see it, then I could act. The brown blob is gone. william brown is gone…from my mind at least. But it’s hard knowing who to trust anymore because the brown blobs are everywhere…and not just in human minds either. We will be taken over and the earth too…probably too late…but it’s worth it to fight, because when you stop fighting that’s when you stop living and that’s what they like.
I tattooed the words “LAST DAYS” on the back of my fingers…these are indeed the last days…but it also means that you should enjoy your life…enjoy these last days and you’ll never be afraid…enjoy your last days for as long as they last and then you will realize something that a brown blob never will…time stops and eternity begins…enlightenment…the gates open.
REVENGE OF THE FREAK
2004-2014 Vancouver, Toronto, Camphill,
Wolfville, Winlaw, Vancouver Island
PART NEW
Scanning pre-dispositions now…done.
Nobody saw you?
Nobody.
Let me explain…
UNDER THE BRIDGE DOWNTOWN
Nothing like sinking your jaws/your fangs into a fresh kill…salmon juice dripping…sure to attract a small platoon of wasps…out of the mouth of Satan/Santa…no doubt he knows I’m gone/escaped and wants me back…he liked my jokes. But if I move into this sad sack human, Brett Daniel, I can mask myself and I won’t be found/detected.
I stick the decapitated heads of dead salmon onto spear sticks and watched the reaction of joggers and tourists…gave me a bit of giggles…under the bridge where I cook and sat. I pulled out my marker necklace and chose a brown marker. I walked back to the bridge wall and drew brown blobs onto the heads of salmon swimming up river mural scene.
Spent the rest of the day tagging the city with brown blobs…they’re coming.
THE BLACKBERRY BUSH DIALOGUES
Backyard family nativity scene like kid pool, swings, slides and sandbox. You wouldn’t think possession fits in here, and it doesn’t.
I hide in the blackberry bushes near the back of the yard. No one dared enter for fear of being ripped to shreds. I sat and let my tentacles probe.
I notice a tape recorder…strange. I’m used to dead rats, deflated balls and empty beer cans within these blackberry walls. I picked up the tape recorder and pressed replay…
…back of that five*****tried of course. Earth…squirreled behind Funny. If dealing with steel but my thoughts aren’t like the others. Its horror is too big and no place to land…it bit JANE RAY! And about the earth? Missing began. GIZZIE/I/HER. Order more WRISTS. You into killer doe’s and I bet you never knew they had yarn. GIZZIE seeds his ARMS…then breaks them. Are your thoughts FETISH? The sleep comes like pock flesh. Cares, like paint. Never I didn't… Blobbywood i'm BLUE. The kid allowed the crow…he showed them a head. Strange. Plan either. So mail that darker away, only he didn't and just listened. Why name so many that did? The you that’s happiness is ALL organic…time spent in the orange house...he had ended the year with toes and realized she really didn’t have edges. But that was…i'm dead from FREAK VOLUME violently…as to the general?...when they was at class they would imaginary view the It…she in there? LEMONADE felt lead and died with lean thoughts which started the ravens need haze. Sometimes he came by THE mower ARMS...a doe started, and felt moments, life walk tried the middle to Fungiland. I’M happy flowers…the store bathroom was home to possession and the interesting aliens and around morning the orchard novels...
UNSCHOOLING
Funny…the tape recorded voice sounded like me…must’ve been a simple case of mistaken identity…more like a simple case of possession! How I loved to play.
I didn’t need to move, eat or sleep. I could stay here for a thousand years. But I loved to play…so when the sun began to set I stood, hiked up my pants and took a breath step.
Feeling stronger and stronger, I tested my strength and waved at the cherry tree until all its fruit disappeared…same with the grapes on the vine and the garden with tomatoes…willy bee was a rotten apple to the core…how I loved to play.
COUNTRY GROCER
william brown wished to cash in old tires and steal stuffed bunny bears from super market cribs.
william brown wished to hijack too many shopping carts and hold them ransom…knife off their wheels when demands weren’t met.
william brown wished to buy only half priced items and then re-sell them to lower income families at a higher price.
william brown wanted to buy sandwich bags and put deli meat in them…carry them around in his fur collared coat until they got rancid…and then eat…bon appetite!
william brown wanted to buy empty coke cans and then piss in them at night…storing them under Brett Daniel’s bed so they would one day accidentally spill and cause a toxic stink!
Brett Daniel on the other hand, just wanted to not lose the shopping list for once, and to never go shopping on an empty stomach.
JACK KEROUAC MADE ME DO IT
william brown, or willy bee as he sometimes liked to be called, made me read books like “The Catcher in the Rye” and “On the Road”. Those books made me want to drip out of society and be a writer. Made me want to drop out of society and experience “life”. Bastard knew where he was leading me…leading me to him…the carrot and stick routine.
HARLEQUIN ROMANCE
He possessed me on and off for 10 years. At its worse I would introduce myself as “william brown”…make reservations under “william brown”. At this moment it feels awkward to write my real name…
Brett Daniel
Brett Daniel
Brett Daniel
Brett Daniel
Brett Daniel
Brett Daniel knew of course, when william brown was near. The crunching of his footsteps sounded like potato chips being chewed. My mind dropped and searched the lower depths. Either my lure or my bait wasn’t working, so I reeled in. Of course he’s too intuitive to fall for that kind of fishing line routine.
Better to catch him with a butterfly net…or better yet…have an entity in the form of a butterfly!
OTHER WAYS I TRIED TO CATCH WILLIAM BROWN:
*Go to a kids park and static shock myself on the plastic slides. The short static flashes separate him momentarily from me…like a thought bubble. Not enough to hold him/imprison him…but enough to find proof.
*He doesn’t like purple. It’s like a crucifix or garlic to a vampire. Purple doesn’t hurt him though, just makes him grumpy.
*Sometimes he shape shifts into a moth and lives and feeds on my wool sweaters. Today I took them out and hung them outside. Moths don’t like the sun. It would’ve flushed him out, but he wasn’t there.
*I can smell him…a combination of gasoline and tiger-tiger ice cream.
YEAR OF THE WOLF
I stopped wearing brown…started using my real name…jogged…hugged…drank more water and cut the lawn…cut my hair and wore long sleeve shirts to cover the tattoo’s “he” got while I was under “his” influence…DINOSAUR DEATH…SUN…MOON...RAINBOW EATER…YEAR OF THE WOLF...SKELETON CANDLE…LAST DAYS…there would’ve been more, but Brett Daniel was too poor…and with a kid on the way…yeah…well…you get the picture.
FRANCIS FORD COPPOLA
I once found william brown living in the creases of my brown cords. He had all the amenities set up. The thing that caught my attention was the urine smell…guy was pissing on my pants and it was pooling in the threads…asshole.
Imagine the look on the Exterminators face when I told him I wanted to be sprayed “head to toe” with the most toxic cocktail he could conjure up. I had to sign off on a bunch of paperwork and even then he made me cross my heart.
“Apocalypse Now isn’t just a movie, my friend.” I said to him.
“Heart of Darkness isn’t just a story, my friend.” I said to him.
I couldn’t remember, but I told one of those lines to the Exterminator…or maybe both because…oh, now I remember…he had never heard of “Heart of Darkness”, never read the story, “dropped out after Grade 8” or some such story…but he said he had seen “Apocalypse Now”…something about seeing it in the theatre when he was 5 years of age…or maybe…wait that’s my Apocalypse Now story…nevermind.
Anyway, he sprayed me down…did the job, cause the next day I saw a little “For Rent” sign in the creases of my brown cords…william brown had hit the road.
OTHER PLACES WILLIAM BROWN LIVED
(before I forget!)
*In a man named “Don”
*In my mom
*In my bong
*Sometimes he vacationed in Vietnam
and while we’re at it…
THINGS THAT ALLOW WILLIAM BROWN ENTRY INTO MY HEAD:
*large door knobs
*hearing the downstairs neighbor watch tv
*having to take a piss in a traffic jam
*phones that ring
*barking cats
*big spider bite shadow spiders
*decisions, decisions
*12 cups of coffee before I go to the valley below
*dead batteries
*other shit.
HAPPY
Where didn’t he live! What couldn’t he shape shift into!
See what I was up against!
I needed to find some kind of entity to chase him out, like a cat, or a bat, or a magical felt hat.
I needed an entity to chase him out…like a goldfish.
I knew william brown had turned into my goldfish when he murdered my other goldfish. He made it look really natural, like the other goldfish died of natural causes. But I knew right away it was murder. I mean, the goldfish that he killed was named “Happy”…of course he was going to kill “Happy”…I could tell by the shiftiness in the eye, after the deed was done…william brown was in there…william brown had possessed my goldfish!
EXERCISED WRITINGS
I gave away all the art he made…ate 3 meals a day…organic chicken and farm fresh eggs…brushed my teeth and flossed nightly…went to bed early…showered and shaved…thought about getting some deodorant but didn’t…swept out from under the rug…got flea protection for my cat and let him sit on my lap while I read…I walked/biked to work…did the dishes right away.
During those long 10 years I tried everything…Tai Chi, IChing, Remote Viewing…I looked to the clouds for meaning…tea leaves, tarot, palm readings, intuitive clairvoyants, shaman, smoke lodges…your run of the mill shrinks…I did meditation and fast breathing exercises…palates and aerobic swim with seniors...and it all came to the same conclusion…I had someone else living with me. I had two people in a bachelor apartment! Two people in one body!
Just recently, I wanted to get an exorcism performed on me but the priest misunderstood and sent me to an abortion clinic. It was confusing for all concerned, and left me protesting out front with the other anti-contortionists.
I tried doing everything the opposite of what I would normally do…It was a phase. I tried doing everything randomly…another phase. I started wearing my clothes backwards…walking backwards…talking backwards…It all came to nothing of course and I got all criss-crossed… but funny enough, it somehow improved my crossword newspaper scores.
I did weird stuff, like cover myself in Playdoh…buried myself in sand and wrapped myself in duct tape like my mommy.
I needed Revenge and that’s when I had no other choice but to call in the Freaks. This then, is really their story…Revenge of the Freak volume 4…begin again…
Nanaimo
August 26, 2014
10 years from now, where will I be…
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