The Reptilians Are Amongst Us!

June 23rd, 2009

The Reptilians Are Amongst Us!

My eyes are closed.  I sit cross-legged atop a comfortable pillow.  I’ve sat in this position for forty-five minutes now.  Isn’t this what those yogis call the lotus position?  Not sure.  Somehow it’s the least of my concerns right now.  My forehead rests agreeably in the palm of my right hand.  Behind my closed eyelids I watch a molten tapestry of shimmering liquid jewels dance, swirl, spiral, and fractal in and out of dimensions I didn’t think were possible—maybe they’re not.  Again, the thought isn’t all that important.  It amuses me that when I try to focus on any one of these countless jewels they shy away, melting into that reality that weaves and flows behind my eyes.  When I let my eyes relax I see columns of eyes surrounded in rainbow flames that slowly blink at me in a calm and satisfying rhythmic motion, like waves upon a beach.  I should be scared because for the last ten minutes a voice in the back of my head has been saying to me, “Humans shouldn’t be allowed to see this.”  But I put it out of my mind and try to relax as best I can.  Just when I think I’ve got the head-space under control, I hear an entirely different voice in my head say, “Don’t open your eyes he’s looking right at you.”  I, of course, open my eyes and am shocked to see an embodiment of pure evil: a denizen of the blackest abyss, a lizard wearing a human skin-suit.  It’s then I experience true, unadulterated terror for the first time in my life.

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by T.R. Wolfe • Comments (3)

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Getting to Know Your Toilet

June 10th, 2009

I’ve moved three times in my adult life. Each time it was easily the biggest hassle I’ve ever been through. Nothing takes more planning, timing and people-coordination than moving all of your belongings from one spot to the next. Getting your crap into the new place is only half the battle, of course. Once everything is in there you still have the bigger mission of somehow maneuvering all of your crap around in a limited space, trying to find the perfect layout; a balancing act that would make Jesus wink in approval. Please, no feng shui crap either. Personally, it is the longest part of moving but also the most rewarding. When you’re completely finished, the time to get to know the “built-in” parts of your place comes next. And nothing excites and pleases me more than learning the intricacies and nuances of my toilet.

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Music of the Universe

June 10th, 2009

Well, if you do the silence thing you get to experience the orchestra of the universe. Some of the most beautiful stuff you’ve ever heard. It’s as if the universe is softly humming directly into your brain. But it’s the humming of atoms spinning, of quarks playing airy violins and superstrings slowly vibrating bass lines. Where unseen galaxies swirl about your head, scattering any possible direction of the music’s origin. Then you hear the beginning of OM: the universe breathing at the lowest threshold of sound and you constantly strain to hear it, but you never do and you smile because you know some day you will.

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Fish Markets

June 8th, 2009

***Warning – Includes questionable content and imagery***

There she is, lying on the bed, the fruits of two weeks of work. Two weeks of bullshit, really. Two weeks of listening to her ramble on about her job as a veterinarian assistant in some startup mom-and-pop humanitarian effort. A last ditch effort for mom and pop to hang onto some small shred of human decency. Though you can already see that shred has withered away to a single, lonesome strand that left them years ago, though they refuse to let go of it, not noticing they’re gripping nothing at all.

While on the third date and still not having seen her naked, you try to keep your eyes at face level, but the inane drivel that escapes her lips causes piercing flashes of white-hot pain that forces you to lower your sights downward to stare at her tits, which bob gently up and down with every breath, like a lone buoy lost at sea, no real purpose, especially clothed. She continues her latest story of veterinarian delights; something about a crazy woman, the crazy woman’s cat and a bottle of generic mustard. She mentions something about the woman possibly having some kind of syndrome requiring a pharmaceutical concoction, but you can’t recall what it was exactly, because it has nothing to do with breasts. You can feel the boredom that emanates from underneath her dual bubbly “personalities” and bleached-blonde highlights. She does a pretty good job of hiding the boredom, but you’ve seen it before and it’s easy to spot. Nothing special with this one. You know that another story is probably next and you’ve decided that the only way you’re gonna sit through this one is while you’re undressing her. I only cuddle if my balls are empty. Random thoughts, but who can blame you? Three dates already? Possibly more. Ouch, my wallet.

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Swimming in Parking Lots

June 8th, 2009

Swimming in Parking Lots (Revised)

July is the hottest month. Maybe not for any averages in the record books, but to me it is. I will forever equate July with scorching temperatures, sweat-soaked shirts, bone-dry infields and yellow outfields, peeling red-hot skin and rubber-green basketball courts waving in the heat currents. I’ll also remember it for oil-slick colored skies and waist-high muddy water.

It was the year 1997. It was the end of July, the 28th to be exact. It was a day like any other day. Nothing about its beginning was noteworthy. I awoke at my leisure. I was 14 and I had yet to get a job. I didn’t have an alarm clock either and had no pressing engagements scheduled that day. I rolled out of bed, my hair matted damply to the pillow; the result of the sun streaming directly onto my face through open blinds. I walked out of my room down the hallway and heard a male voice. It was not my brother’s and it was not my mother’s (ha-ha). Whose was it? I continued down the hallway to the kitchen and noticed various tools lying about. All of them caked with dirt, the tell-tale sign of heavy usage. Someone had gotten their moneys worth. I walked into the living-room and noticed a gigantic roll of carpet leaning heavily against the north wall, near the dark-brown china cabinet. Oh yeah, we were getting carpet installed. I would be outside all day.

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