Grid 3

The frog says these spikes on my head are for the better. The slug proclaimed eggactly. In any case, we don’t need to get there until day strikes, so we best gather the lilac tulips and expect the worst forecast. It’s causing an itch on my lumbar spine you see. Well, the splotches should be chilled by then, then the  Writing will no longer require to borrow our hindsight. Are you essentially describing When? No my dear, insight!

TBC – The Adventures of Shady and Slime.

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I’ve Got Some Work To Do, So Please Stay Awake!

Day by day, she fought to stay awake. At night, facing the white wall, she would see her breath come back instantaneously, stirring her into place. The gaze could not help but stare at the odd black shadow that looked like a miniature black, spider web plague.

But seriously, in uni guys, I was feverishly napping on an ex-boyfriend’s mattress and my breath came to me instantaneously, stirring my mind up like a messy face. There was no odd black shadow, but the conceptual piece I had just completed about a red cross, red intersecting paint brushes — which over a predetermined schedule of time morphed (by me painting over it) into a black matte surface of nothingness — was replaced with a glowing symbol of something or other.

Could have been yellow.

I can barely remember.

I gasped for air, clutching my heart as I stared into Kevin’s barren closet only to see me as a ‘doctor’, healing the world from every known pain of mankind. In that moment, my heart sung and I cried. I felt adorned, but yet I was confused as to how this could have happened. How this could be a reality that I, simple Chona Fe, changed the world. How could I be the charging force that set everything in place.

The only other time this happened again, I was napping, this time at my aunt’s house around the bend from our house, in one of the empty rooms. (Note: Filipino homes always have empty rooms) All of the post 80s furniture, including a mainly stark but super reflective black master’s bedroom set had no meaning or intent in that place. That place where I slumbered and was suddenly awoken by, myself. I think I was 13, sitting up abruptly on the left side of the bed staring at myself. Yelling, screaming at the top of my lungs.

I was looking at a reflection that wasn’t ours.

My brother and my cousins, Ryan and Vanessa,  ran from the playground in the centre of the crescent. They heard my scream, they were horrified to think something terrible had happened. But nothing did. I was alive. I was not attacked or eaten in the middle of my sleep. Vanessa grabbed me and I blinked slowly thrice. “What. The. Fuck. I…don’t know what just happened, but I think I…died and I…saw a different person in my…reflection.” I couldn’t even continue. It was that bad.

TBC

Chapter 4 – The Sycophant

This cannot be happening right now.

Daisy expired and shook her head as time and time again she did. We don’t exist, we are bars of Nanaimo treats screwed up on Haloperidol mixed with a touch of boxed salad greens. 

So where do we begin? 

She approached Alice who was expecting her as she sat cross-legged on a slice of Dream. “Miss Alice, are you here? Did you have anything?” This role reversal thing just made it all so complicated. 

They were all messed up. The transition from wifi to digitization wasn’t her, pretty much everyone in town KNEW and it felt like people could FEEL the change, but no one would talk about it in actuality.

It’s just so much more interesting. 

What? 

This new job! 

I figured out 5 routes to sudden insight in writing, they are – 

Fast, 

Open and shut, 

Take your time, 

Who cares and 

Believe.

Shall we keep going?

The weekend felt like an eternity. She wished she could swoon over these feelings, but she just craved having her own office and working. Daisy gathered her yellow skirt which had fine white polka dots, a fine white mesh of squid tulle and an admirable edging of white eyelet lace. She pronounced with a deep breath to whomever was not there – Here ye, here ye are, we are short, we are tall, we are bright, we are dull. We are equal and there is something out there telling us we aren’t. Try not to be confused, but to trace your steps back towards home, it isn’t where you feel your bones turn cold and your face falls flat. That’s all she had to do for today, but she was exhausted because she spent days preparing.

Social media nowadays did just that. Having to bring together Others was painstakingly dull, hence why the word always made its way into her announcements. Daisy tried to remember why she wanted this job in the first place.

I don’t feel right. 

Alice from Wonderland awoke from a banana split second to comment, “Recall in your sleep, then awake and for the next every day of your life, return to your commonplace and remember what stands as your truth and reality – resolve, confidence and ultimately, sober things.” Then her eyes shut, but bulgy and half-peeped, she yawned, turned around onto her Dream and went back to bed. 

Chona had a look at where she was. White Spot…hmm…Telus and an escalator as white as pine chairs…hmmm. She was just waiting to see Seventeen and Each Other. It was A Day and she felt 92, but was probably more like a 93. “Don’t forget to measure your immeasurability.” Ugh. It always came out the wrong way. Immeasurability is when one does not make sense for various points and reasons not yet to be discussed. Still, wearing a t-shirt from which her periphery seemed pink, she was holding onto a couple of secrets and there was good reason for it, “It has left.”, “It has gone for good.” I just get worried because I force myself to smile for having an image of my face cropped up in my mind where I look exhausted and homeless. Dr. Waterson at least said I always look flawless.

Daisy quipped all brightly and dull, “Ya don’t NEED to eat the milk, hasn’t this body image disturbance issue been cured?”

Oh just shut up. 

They were both wearing matching lumber jackets. Difficulties often arose in their marriage, however as time was different at least they still had the capacity to travel through the same rate of simultaneous combustive think, it frustrated them both, making them more porcelain and less matte. “We are old.”, “Yes, we are.” 

Daisy remembers crashing the car in 2006, there were banks of snow everywhere as large as clouds plopped down from the sky. She was psychotic and he was possibly Hindu, but as she sped away jacked on thoughts and cigarettes, A Tree followed her, off the main road. She tried to get away, but she just couldn’t and then, they stopped right next to a previous residence to talk. He parked behind the car and walked up to her window that was crusted with ice. 

Daisy remembers the solid air inside her vehicle, her paranoia and delusions stuck amidst cold breath and the dark matter of her car’s ripped seats. She was so scared, more scared than she had ever been in her life as a burly thick man with a bushy red beard approached her on her left side. She rolled down the window and two pairs of eyes extremely intense, proceeded to think. There was silence and patches of foggy air between them. He questioned her actions realistically, but Daisy was determined, “He didn’t die! He was protected by a higher being, I swear this on my life!” It was as if two different realities were panning out at the exact same time, one that was cold and real and the other which was super paranoid and just too hard to bear. But A Tree stood there in silence in between moments of questioning, sort of half intrigued and empathetic to whatever Daisy was thinking. And then, he just let her go. Just like that. She drove away, further and further into it all, arriving at an underground graffiti show that wasn’t worth any of her time, but as per usual she always showed up, walked around like she gave a fuck, because it was her job. 

Allow me to circumvent.

I didn’t get sued, I bounce back, always toward the same direction from which I came, but my goal is to eliminate these occurrences, because deep down inside I am able and determined to succeed. The brain is able to do that. Act godlike and everything or, neuroplasticity.

How many years did it take? Oh, I don’t know, maybe 10.

(tbc)