Today I chose to be a writer

Tomorrow I think I'll Be a Fisherman

A Strange Day

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Mindless noise- incredible sound and bass variations entangled with fluctuating electronic chaos that shakes the earth underneath our feet. We are currently walking down the inhumane path that leads to the underground realm underneath Beirut, the air is dense with acrid smoke that lazily circulates right underneath our noses. Here we go I think to myself, one more time, down the rabbit hole… I inhale as much of the smoke as I can, while exhaling, I couldn’t help but smile. You see, in order to get to Beat City, one must silence the mind and its primary function- to respond to reality. Beat city is everything but “real”, it exists outside of our collective perception of reality.

The smoke was escaping through cracks in the soil , enveloping all that it touched, it rose in cataclysmic patterns, forming a thick plane suspended in mid-air that swirled and coiled as we moved through it. My loyal companion Nick was inhaling as much smoke as he could, crazy bastard! Only those in an altered state of consciousness could perceive the portal that leads to Beat City. I see it as a door, perception differs; the observer projects an idea which is manifested as whatever the conscious being imagines a portal to be – the smoke is the key to our beloved city.
As we wind on down the increasingly menacing path, the music intensifies. It fills our heads with fierce vibrations that cause solid matter to shake and tremble. The trees along the path that have guided us to our present location seem to have suffered a retched fate. They were rent and distorted, twisting and morphing into what looked like insane creatures infatuated with despair. The moonshine fell, almost unbearably, upon the hideous, sad expressions the trees were manifesting- a warning that plagues the mind as we walk on- Beware the madness!

A familiar vibe runs up my wrenched spine, I think I said something like: “hey nick, I’m looking into the eye of the strange animal. No, I’m looking at a little girl with red hair. We are being tested; can we support such madness? Can we prevail in such incoherent and mad states of mind?”
Of course though, my friend nick saw it too; his eyes were wide and full of surprise, and he was smiling. It seems we would prevail, time and time again, our minds still had not snapped. Suddenly the little girl with red hair turns around and begins to skip ahead- naturally, we follow.

We follow our guide up the path for another 10 minutes or so, she then stops abruptly, lets out an inhuman moan, and perishes. At first, the path seems unchanged, but a subtle change in the air all around us catches my attention, Oxygen levels begin to decrease. We are being mentally and physically prepared for the underground, lungs feel pressured, and every breath brings a rush of chemicals to the brain, releasing Dopamine, Serotonin, Epinephrine and Endorphins- our eyes roll back in our heads and our souls rush out of our mouths. They hang around, free of the shackles that bind it to the body. To see, taste, smell, hear and feel with intensity so fierce, the soul is ecstatic- we function at ten times our normal efficiency. Pupils dilate, we are sucked in through the awesome hole in the fibonaccian nil of our heads, and the door appears…

This place we have escaped to is completely unstained by human greed and self-conceived reality- the reality that has incarcerated the soul, the reality in which matter has enslaved the mind. We are the dreamless youth of our fallen empire
The desolate generation of the post world unification era, the children of this new world order.
Our intense need for comfort and our fear of uncertainty, our immaculate creation- our frail empire. 
Dissolved, nullified, annihilated. We are unlearned our perceptions can be reconfigured and rearranged 
Welcome to The Rabbit Hole – enter a whole different world of motivation
See that each atom in our anatomy was born in the death of a star 
Realize that all knowledge does not exist apart from us
experience the fleeting moment 
let the truth come 
A period is but a point at which one idea ends and the other begins, a point at which I am given the opportunity to transcend (or descend) my previous thoughts and claims. It is also symbolic of a singularity, the point from which the universe burst open and…

“what?” asks a disembodied voice.

Had I said that out loud? where was I?

“Huh?” I come too from this reverie to witness an awesome sight.
“You just said “the period came”! Groaned he. “Stop saying asinine shit man… not at a time like this… I can see the stink of some dog turd somewhere and… i can hear it too! it makes an awful squelchy noise…”
“well” I explained, “might be cause you stepped in it, and are doing so repeatedly you fucking retard. you’re not synesthetic yet merely… uninhabited.”  this calmly.

“Awwww! god damn it! tell me why is it every time we trip together one of us has to step in shit!! god damn it!”
Nick was evidently flustered by this, and just tore his shoes off with a mighty flick of the ankle. “Bah! Who needs shoes anyway”!

Goddamn hobbit! I thought. He was right though, shit in all its forms, figurative and literal, seemed to follow us each time we ate the fruit of it. well now, i think this thought requires no more transcendence…

“What are we gonna do now?” he demanded “My feet are cold and you look like you’ve been thinking too hard”, exclaimed he.

Indeed comfort awaited, El-Diablo Azure- Our trusty bong, pre packed and waiting to be ignited with a controlled flame we tended to generate with colorful plastic objects filled with butane…
Prometheus was a good Titan wasn’t he?

“Alright” I said, “lets head home then, Let me just go say good bye to that tree over yonder”.

“What! Wait! What! Fuckin’! tree! man! there’s no time for your hippy shit! the cold is creeping into my spine man through my feet!”
So we walked home, the balding, muttering-machine who was now shoe-less as well, and I.

As I fumbled for the keys, Nick, ever prone to Murphy’s law, begins to turn yellow before my very eyes.
“Ugh” he groaned
Damn key, why don’t these things ever fit into the keyholes? easy enough to open metaphysical doors out there in the ether, but these solid things were a real challenge i reckoned. Doors to our very own cell within this false organism we call reality. Shut out from otherness.
He was drooling now, oh shit, this is not a good sign… damn key!

And the door swung open, I looked at nick, he looked at me, a seemingly eternal moment passed.
“The Fuck?” I thought as i began to step forward
“MOVE!!!” came a frightening snarl from this livid beast.
he lurched forward and made to run to the toilet with his mouth covered with one hand and the other holding his stomach. While intention is a very admirable at this point, lets be realistic. Murphy fucking watches…
He stumbled, and began to fall…

I heard him heave before he thudded to the ground and projectile vomited all over the carpet, at the point of impact.
“uuuummmmm fuck” came the death rattle.

And the beast was still, laying ever so majestically in a remarkable puddle of regurgitated mushroom pizza.
GET THE FUCK UP AND CLEAN THIS SHIT NICK! I yelled, through a fit of the giggles.

Comfort would have to wait it seemed. what was it Lennon said?
“Life is what happens when your busy making plans”

We cleaned up, I had a few doubtful moments, common to all those of us who have cleaned up puke, where I though I was going to add to the mess rather than clean it, but alas for Murphy; even he is a victim of his own law.
We settled down on the couch.

“Ah! much better” sighed Nick.
“You fat bastard, first the shit and then a mile of half digested pizza! King of food in all its tenses! future, present and past! Next ill know you’ll be making your famous beef and broccoli stew which happens to smell the same as it does after you pass it!” I announced as I snatched the bong off the table.

I reached into my pocket to grab my trusty fire thingy and a sense of dread so deep filled me.

“Nick.for.gods.sake.the.lighter” I whimpered.

“Don’t have it man, think we left it near that tree you were speaking to, and now that you mention it, beef and broccoli sounds great!”


Author: pisceanist

Hi, My name is Fouad, I was born in San Diego CA in 1986 and currently live in Hamburg, Germany. I love to read and play video games, and am a great fan of post-rock music and Tool. I am currently working my way to an MA in Creative writing and also teach English as a Second Language to get by. Have been writing for quite some time, and thought It was time I stopped hoarding my strange digressions and shared them with fellow writers and readers in order to get more honest feedback, Enjoy!

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