As it it’s cleared it’s head, it found an image of it’s brain, seated right inside it’s goofy head. Why was there a brain inside it’s head? It wondered. To think things. To feel pain. That is the purpose of brains. It got up and its form followed it with it. A white light appeared in view. There were things, things, stuck in the view. Strings it had to get out. Get out because it wasn’t symettrical. And asymetry, just made it crazy.
Why, all things are symetrical. C sections are symetrical. Buildings are symetrical. But this, this was not symetrical. It made it want to chomp its mouth, eat the air, eat the holes of the air. Eat the holes permeating through its viscous flesh. Images of pirate restaurants and green tunics at the bottom of the sea flashed in front of it. It was beautiful, absolutely beautiful. Especially the golden like luster of the hair and the sublime beauty of the water and bricks around it. Then, after a moment, it was gone. Nothing but white light again.
The white light, permeated it’s very being. It stared into it, could not look anywhere else. The more it stared into it, the more it had to stare. It began to feel sublime. It needed to exit its flesh and eat the white light. It was wholly romantic, its head needed to go back and forth and dance. It must be merged into the white light. It must become the white light.
At that moment, it grew tired of the white light, and searched for other entities. They were long, brown, entities, which took strenous efforts to exist. They were very proud of themselves. But they were simply noxious to devour. As it kept filling and filling, it became more and more nauseous. It could not remember what anything tasted like before. All it could think of were the long, brown, entities. The long brown entities were all there were. The long brown entities were all that ever could be. There were nothing but the long brown entities, they were deep as deep gets.
So we saturated ourselves through the vortex and our howling ghosts made it to other worlds. These worlds, built of the same metals as this world, were also brown. But they were tainted with red, to make the brown more palletable. For when there is 3 there can be movement, but when there are 2 it is simply repetitive.
Driving down the grey lines at breakneck speeds, she remembered the times of green, times which never did exist. And there was green and her body became the brown and green, and it was good until fire came down and devoured her she could not escape the fire it consumed her thoughts and fire litterally raped her. Then she wasn’t one with the fire but two, and shit and vomit exploded out of her mouth, but she quickly gargled it down before others could see.
The days grew longer, like stock photography, and the ante had to be upped. Was there hell? You tell me. Talking heads moving this way and that bobbling babbling, moving, to and from. No enemies to vanquish nothing to face - nothing needed to be done. Taco stands offering her fresh refreshment she made it to Base 1. Fearing her fury, climbing aboard the ladder, she was a fireman again, but such things had long lost their charm. She was litterally devouring herself, becoming that which she devoured, and then devouring herself. It was quite a sight, even more beautiful than that of the phoenix, - it was symettrical.
Down in the grunge halls the men work on the ships. They tinker and tinker working in the greasy hands. The whore, eats the grease and licks her fingers. The ship goes and the men bicker. What will they discover next? It crash lands into a planet, but where are the survivors? The woman, missing her limbs, manages to move her torso, like a worm, to the nearest hospital. They make her into a cyborg. But she can’t laugh anymore, because that overloads her circuits.
She walks outside, a school bus full of kids. They laugh and point at her. Lightning touches the sky. Lightning goes places, does things. Soon there is a dark canal. Blame. Blaming the abyss for what it did. Cherry lands symmetrically on a spike. Cherries go everywhere. There is paint on everyone’s faces. She cannot help but laugh. Laughs for 9 hours. This overloads her circuits, and her hands feel so numb she can’t feel them. They twist and contort, her heart stops beating. She blacks out and falls over. This is what death feels like. There are green rings, she feels like she can’t breath. Strange chanting in the background. A victim of life, sent to perdition. All beings are sent to perdition, because the lord has made it so. The little girl appears again. The only good soul, in a world of pretenders, barbarians, worms, treeholes and maggots, who look it but have nothing inside.
Icy cold chambers, the stalagmites. Drips down on her flesh. Holy choir music in the background. Prayers are sent to the good spirits. Red sheets. There was a skeleton under the sheets. A ghastly form, someone calling her name. There is a swimming pool with her old friend giggling, beckoning…suddenly sea sickness sets in - nausea, and her eyebrows enters an intense expression. Story is to be continued.