Brain Slug Existential

— I think there’s something in there…

— It looks like some type of parasite…

— Oh yeah! I totally forgot! THAT’S ME. I’m a brain slug, duh. Thanks Doc!

~~ Maybe I should’ve been a dentist…

Early Easter

— Look pap pap! The easter bunny came early this year and he left a reeeeeeely huge chocolate egg.

— Herman, put that down. That isn’t an easter egg and it certainly isn’t chocolate.

stapler and paper

inspired by comercial

we love doing taxes. we love it so much we’ll do it for free. sometimes we forget to eat or sleep because we love doing taxes SO MUCH! our dream is to DIE while doing TAXES for EXTRA TERRESTRIAL ENTITIES. i have five kids. i named three of them Taxes and one of them W-2 because i LOVE taxes SO MUCH! send us your tAxEs NoW!!! we are craaaaaazy for taxes. we do taxes for taxidermists. we do taxes for dermatologists. we do taxes for llama psychologists. like sloths, we have trained our bodies to have bowel movements only once a week just so that we can be by the phone when you call us to do your taxes with you. pleeeeeeeaaaaaaase call now!!!!!!!!!

other

I know what you think about before you fall asleep. I know what hurts you and what you most desire. I can see your true beliefs hidden behind the lies that seep through your teeth. I know your darkest secrets. I know what arouses you, what terrifies you, what you think of yourself, and what you think of me. Your skull cannot hold you or hide you. Bits of you find their way to me, always.

At times these pieces of others overwhelm me. It is always hard to know myself.

I make a lot of money. It is easy to ascend in life when you know what others want from you. I have several degrees. It is easy to learn when you can reach into the minds of others for answers, and meaning. I try to avoid crowds. I don’t mind knowing what people think about each other. Sometimes that’s really quite fascinating, even entertaining, actually. It never fails to amaze me how often two people can share the share the exact same thoughts and remain convinced of their own isolation. Whether it is mutual attraction or philosophy, like minded strangers almost never interact. There are talkative people, but they tend to be the ones who think the least, and although they interact often with others, those others are rarely like minded.

The reason why I don’t like crowds is because in them there is always that man. The one, I think you know who he is. You don’t have to be a telepath to pick him most of the time. He’s the one who stares at you, sometimes discreetly, sometimes overtly. While he stares, he thinks about the things that he would like to do to you. Not as another person, one like himself, but as an object or a tool. He exists at all levels of society. He is always the one who poses the greatest threat to your career, your sanity, your body. My body. My sanity.

Sometimes he has already committed crimes and plans to commit more. He wants to rape you. Sometimes he wants you to know. He talks to you inside his mind. He tells you what he would like to do, in detail. He knows you can’t really hear him. He thinks you can’t hear him. He will probably do it to someone he can already manipulate, someone he knows. If you can, you find a way to trap him, catch him, convict him. It is hard though. You don’t want to be exposed. There are always more of him. You can’t always protect her.

You don’t like crowds because she is always there and he has already gotten to her. Inside her. Inside you. She doesn’t want anyone to know. She doesn’t want you to know. She doesn’t want me to.

Sometimes he thinks about you so hard that you forget how to think of you. Sometimes you wonder if it isn’t the other way around. Sometimes they make you feel like they are the ones who know what you are thinking.

You don’t like crowds because one really vile thought can make an entire river of consciousness feel murky and heavy and hard to drink. You have to drink it anyway, even if it makes you sick.

You prefer open spaces and living spaces. Open spaces are the only places where you can think clearly. they are the only truly peaceful places. Living spaces are the ones where people relax and stop worrying about what others think of them. When people are at home it is easy to get a feeling for what they really care about. Sometimes people let their minds wander into the most wonderful places when they are alone when everyone else goes to sleep. Mostly they just watch television though, or eat, or masturbate. If they aren’t alone they talk or make love. In any case, when they are at home they are honest with themselves. They know if they are happy with their lives and the choices that they have made.

You like it when people can be honest with themselves. It makes you feel like maybe one day you can be honest with them too. You get tired of changing yourself to suit others. You wonder what it would be like to be truly honest with yourself.

wow… hfcs

this commercial really bothers me.

hey black people, white people are trying to trick you into thinking that high fructose corn syrup is bad. its fine in moderation just like sugar… or drano or bleach.

christers! saying something is fine in moderation isn’t saying anything at all. a little poison won’t kill you but a ton of any ingested substance very well may.

as far as i can tell, the only studies that claim that hfcs isn’t bad for you are the ones that are funded by the people who make the stuff. wikipedia hfcs.

make no mistake, the average american diet is far from a healthy one. even if you can’t afford to eat right, try not to eat wrong. if there is a dietary conspiracy against black people it is not about tricking them into eating healthier, it is about selling them cheap crap in order to make a big profit.

on ttte

there are a lot of people on youtube who really like thomas the tank engine. like a lot, a lot. it really makes you think. about humanity. and stuff. kind of like all of those japanese tommy lee jones ads do.

the cats with catheads

the person addressing me is hysterical. his name is allax and i have known him for the better part of the year. i would say intimately. i have let a stray cat into the house. he is trying to explain something to me, but i am having trouble understanding. he does not seem to be himself. he says, this isn’t how it is supposed to be. cats aren’t supposed to have heads like that. that cat has the head of a cat but cats can’t have cat heads. this is impossible. i ask for clarification but he can’t seem to articulate what is wrong, just that something is inside out and upside down in the world. at first it think that perhaps this is some form of the capgras delusion, a rare syndrome that leads an individual to believe that objects or people are impostors because they don’t have the proper emotional resonance. allax tells me that he thinks that either some evil mastermind is corrupting the world somehow or that he is slipping between spaces.

i speak with allax for several hours and reach the conclusion that something has happened to him, but i don’t believe that it is supernatural. he reluctantly agrees to be tested by one of the worlds leading neuroscientists. I leave allax in the care of others. i don’t have the courage to face him. i am sure that by now he has been committed. lately, i have found myself in a curios epistemological position, or rather disposition. i find myself unsure of things. have dogs always barked? have trees always had electroluminescent properties? it seems as if there was a time when things were slightly different from before, more normal. either the world is changing and i am one of the only two people on earth to have noticed, or this isn’t my earth at all. i suppose there is always another explanation, but i dare not admit that possibility. to question my sanity would be to take away the only foundation i have left. i do not think that i can survive alone, isolated like this. i must find allax. perhaps together we can unravel these tangled eyebrows. i see a pear tree growing up from a crack in the sidewalk, the fruit tastes salty. Finally, something familiar.

some of you might be saying, oh that’s just the capgras delusion combined with synesthesia. well, i wouldn’t be so sure. it is surely a stranger universe out there than it is as it exists inside the mind.

Duty

The day has finally arrived. I’ve been building the gateway for almost 200 years now. I’m the only one who still believes in devils and holy war. I go into hell alone. In order to open the gate I must use a great deal of power. Several of the cities along the East coast will experience blackouts. I’m sure many people will die because of me, but I will save many more. I’ve armed myself with particle weapons and retracting blades. There is no way to know what will be effective. I only have enough air to last for an hour or so. Hopefully that will be enough time to arm the nuke. There is no way for me to return. Perhaps you think I’m insane. I’m sure I won’t receive your blessing or your gratitude. I will save your soul whatever the cost may be, even if that cost is your life or mine. You may call me fool or zealot. I call myself martyr, savior.

thirst

Euphoria. That is what it was like for her to enjoy her the first glass of water in over three thousand years, albeit lunar ones. She was ready for everything. There were surely a lot of new things to look forward to. Perhaps she would leave for a new moon, maybe a particularly well hydrated one.