Chapter 1
I am surrounded by immense structural entities that create a still motion sculpture. Light emits from each of the screens, which are portals into other structures. When I am alone in this room, surrounded by the structures, I feel that the elegance of these machines evokes a sort of private rehearsal of the melodrama of complexity. I carefully remove the top layer of film that protects unwanted light waves from entering and in turn corrupting equational processes. I come here once a week to perform certain tasks that I get paid for with money in return. The journey to enter the room apparatus is quite complex: I exit the train station and walk into a grand park. The awesome geometry of its landscape architecture is extremely specific. I usually enter around 7:30 P.M. when the sun is halfway set. The light emitted at this time of day creates a barren ditch in my stomach that gets filled up with curiosity. The park is full of enormous trees, creating extremely dark shadows that sprawl across the ground.
At the other end of the park, there is a large cement structure. It's crooked and angular with two small windows at the very top. I open the revolving door at its base and enter into the cement ambiance. The temperature immediately drops and I begin my calculations. I magnify and retract the small amount of light that comes through the two small windows. The refraction of light turns into a small rectangular shape in the middle of the cement floor. As I calculate with movement, I feel a sense of intense vulnerability within the numerical explorations. When my calculations succeed, the refracted light hitting the rectangular shape creates a light projection portal in the shape of a triangle. I step inside of this triangle and through this movement I am transported into the waiting room.
The waiting room's wait time is never less than fifteen minutes, so I step outside for a moment. The landscape is now a desert. I watch the deep orange expanse inside the unbelievably comforting heat while the sun sets fully. There is a cat that plays around and carefully examines my movements. I think she is probably the designer of the angular rectangular light calculated entrance. After ten minutes, I step back inside to the very clean waiting rooms, greeted by the front desk attendant. Her name is Rivers. She has an extremely long face and extremely long brown hair. She has large teeth creating a magnificent smile. She wears polka dots and stripes with perfect, tight-fitting clothes. She speaks with a vocal fry and has lip gloss. She gracefully hands me the metal access key geometry to my specialized structure room which is down two flights of stairs from the waiting rooms. I unlock the door and enter the room gracefully.
I remove the protective layer of film off of the structural entities that are inside of the room, which feels like an expanse, and this leaves both me and the machines in a vulnerable position. I can see this sort of entrance. The entrance is inside of the first quantum structure. I hadn't been able to see it before, but after spending this much time in light angular motions, my vision is changing. I am able to find light apparatuses in places that were invisible to me prior. The entrance is tiny, about the size of a grain of rice. It looks like a metallic orb. I find myself drawn to enter this space. I hear high-pitched ringing in my ears and I am immediately transported into this minuscule metallic orb without fully considering my perverse desire.
When I had initially entered the angular light entrance to the waiting rooms, the portal had shrunk my body to about a quarter of my regular size, but now that I am entering into this small quantum entrance, I am even smaller. The size of a proton. Existing in this new expanse, I experience a new level of light complications that I never knew existed. The light is angular and blinding and it's entering through millions of entrances. The sharpness of the angles are revolting. I realize at this moment that I am inside of a retina. The retinal atmosphere is familiar and I am surrounded by photoreceptors. They walk around confidently with a kind of complex light angular knowledge that I will never possess. They are singing at high-pitched frequencies in a performance. I am inside of an opera. The photoreceptors move and sing with immense elegance and precision. The retina is a theater operation, a private rehearsal. The rays of light entering the retina act as spotlights, creating dark contrasts to intensify the energies and dramas at play. The photoreceptors that aren't performing at that current moment are in their own sort of green room. I see some of the rods and cones performing intercourse which sends false electromagnetic waves to the optic nerve, in turn creating small discrepancies within the visual field of the human of which we are inside of. I move around, curious about what I look like now that I am inside of here. Am I a photoreceptor too? I still have my hands and boobs and such. Très intéressant.
I find my way to the main retinal amphitheater. Here I can see a live feed projection of the eyeball we are inside of. Because we are pre-brain processing, the image projected into my own smaller retina is upside down and strange, though I recognize the live feed imagery immediately. It is my bedroom mirror and I see my naked body admiring its reflection and making faces and such. This is a moment I experienced one week ago before I ever knew about this retinal entrance. Perhaps in the retinal quantum realm, time moves a week slower? I sit down on a cheeky photoreceptor's lap and begin to watch my past self.
Chapter 2
I'm admiring my body, which is elegant and spindly, in the mirror. I bring one of my legs up over the back of my head and perform demonic-esque movements, for my contortionist training. I walk in a handstand to the kitchen where I see my cat, Pig. At that moment I fall into a backbend, creating an elegant archway for the cat to go under. I slowly unbend my naked back until it makes one millimeter contact with Pig's hair. This whisper of cat fuzz on my bare back is extremely exciting and intimate, and I feel strange tingly feelings up my spine. Pig likes the sensation too but not for the same reasons. He likes it because it's dramatic and awkward in a shaky way which is fantastically cool. Pig likes to smoke weed daily and use the synthesizer. He prefers square waves over sine waves usually and is always utilizing the arpeggiator to create a nice ambiance for me to paint and sing to.
I begin to make eggs avocado spinach sweet potato with quinoa and hot sauce and then eat it on my beautiful balcony. After I finish, I sensually clean the kitchen till it's sparkly clean. I put on my headphones and decide to walk around the world. While walking inside of a cement highway, hot air penetrates my skull and my hair is hot to the touch. I walk to the beach and take off my sundress revealing a black one-piece that is the perfect blend of comfortable coverage and sensual sexiness. I run and dive into the ocean which is warm. I decide to float on my back and look into the sun directly (little did I know this causes a season finale masterpiece in the retinal amphitheater). As I look into the light orb, I feel an immense vibration coming from the low-end register followed by a high-pitched whine. This whine reeks of yearning and loss. It is a large whale. The whale, Mackintosh, has an unusually long tongue. He extends it to the surface where I am floating and curls it around my body. He brings me into his mouth and down into his throat, landing in a large cavity inside his pubis that contains oxygen. The cavity is a mid-century modern living room with an incredible Miro painting on the wall.
"Hello I am Mackinstosh:)"
"Woah. Hi. Is this heaven?"
"Yes my dear:) Just kidding. This is a cavity inside of my pubis which contains oxygen."
"Ah, of course. I think I have one of those too!"
"No you don't, humanoids don't have those."
"Oh okay."
After this short encounter, I am lifted back to the surface. There is a lifeguard there waiting for me.
"Hey lass! I thought you had drowned!" (Scottish accent.)
He (James) is really attractive. Muscular yet belly fat too yum.
"I'm all good thank you though… Actually. On second thought, I do think I need examinations to ensure my health is in order."
"One order of examinations coming right up. Hold onto my hand."
He is on a surfboard. He brings me to the sand. We end up making out and his beard is itchy. It ends up being a horrible disaster with the combined sensation of sand and beard itch… James didn't notice my discomfort because he is actually deeply in love with his married co-worker, Sarah. He could only think of her. We decide not to fornicate and I make my way back to my apartment.
Chapter 3
I'm in the process of creating an innovative new kind of instrument. This instrument is able to scan spinal cords and recreate them with modeling software and 3D printing processes. The recreated spinal cord is then duplicated and multiplied with slight adjustments to each model. The printed cords are then stretched onto a wooden apparatus creating a guitar-like instrumental construct. When you play your own spinal cord instrument, your brain gets activated from the residue of spinal fluid DNA that still exists within the spinal cord 3D model which has invisible sonar-transferred relationships with your brain. Since your instrument (which you would usually play with your heart) is now activating your brain through DNA systems, you're able to play music with more direct access to your subconscious brain activity. Since this instrument could change the music industry forever, the FBI is keeping close tabs on my progress.
After daydreaming about what new coding sequences I can integrate into my genius invention, I have a vision:
There are two duplicates of myself. The first duplicate is causing potential car crashes on the freeway. The second duplicate has a zipper that goes down her abdomen. She can unzip it to reveal a smaller version of herself. The two duplicates come together at some point and start performing a strange illusion on strangers. They would take a stranger and ask them to put their arms behind their back. Then, the duplicates would place their arms where the stranger's arms would have been normally. When the duplicates move their arms around, the stranger would have the sensation that they themselves were creating that movement. Initially, this would cause depersonalization effects. To make matters worse, the two duplicates would then start scratching the stranger's back aggressively, to the point of drawing blood. The interesting thing is that the stranger would have the illusion that they were performing this act upon themselves. The horror of experiencing your own arms non-consensually scratching your spine so violently that blood is drawn creates a dark, evil feeling that the duplicates can feed on. They continuously perform this sick performance on many strangers, passing along the evil feeling to a machine. This machine is invisible but you know it's close when a light bulb on an impossibly long piece of metal that hangs from the sky appears in front of you.
I immediately write this vision down.
"PIG!"
"Yes?"
"Pig. I love you so effing much."
"Love you too haha"
"Why did you say haha? What is so funny about my love for you?"
"Ugh. I hate it when you overanalyze speech in such an insecure way."
"I do that?"
"Yes, a lot. I think you have some sort of internalized shame. Also can you please give me a can of tuna or even just the tuna juice I like that part the best–and then I will breathe in your face after and you will experience a strange conflicting feeling of wonder and disgust from the smell."
"Ok."
After I give Pig the tuna juice and he breathes his tuna breath in my face, I get this feeling in my gut about the vision I had earlier. I wonder if it was simply a subconscious vision or a true vision of duplicates terrorizing my community in strange ways?
"Pig, do you wanna go to the pub with me?"
"No, I have this really strong sentiment that you need to go alone."
"Okay, now I'm excited, haha, maybe I'll meet the love of my life."
"BUT I AM THE LOVE OF YOUR LIFE:0"
Pig jumps and scratches me on my cheek as punishment for the disrespect.
"Pig No. YOU ARE BEING MEAN!"
With that, I walk out the door. I'm wearing a suit with a pocket watch, a top hat, a cigarette holder, a walking stick, etc. I make my way down my beautiful street where I can smell the sweet scent of laundry coming from the basements of the other apartment buildings. I smile at the sun which is beginning to set. I make my way to the large, beautiful river in the city center. There are pelicans and kids having birthday parties. There are teenagers drinking beer and dogs running around. There is ambient music playing on a speaker. The beauty of this moment prompts me to speak with one of the birthday kids (a random five-year-old girl).
"Hi, I'm an adult. Who are your heroes?"
"My heroes cannot be verbalized. They are entities from alternative dimensions that don't have a singular name. They exist simultaneously in every possibility of the time-space continuum. In an attempt to classify these extraordinary individuals, I would not only be betraying their trust but also flattening their existence. Despite the fact that I cannot name them I can describe the immense positive change they have implemented into my life on earth thus far. They have taught me how to live my life with grace. They have taught me how to curate pure swagathon vibes. They have taught me how to live in the moment … but wait … in my attempt to describe the positive implications of our relationship, I feel like I am flattening their effect on my life. Language is false and flattening to truth. It can be very frustrating when you are trying to describe something so extraordinary. Do you know what I mean?"
"Yes. Woah."
"Yeah."
"Okay. Have a wonderful day, bye."
"Goodbye."
I enter my favorite pub, Ye Olde Fighting Cocks est. 800 BC. I order a pint. I sit down and sip the top layer of foam, smiling. A mysterious man is sitting a couple seats down from me, also dressed in 1920s gentleman's attire. Over the course of the next 45 minutes, he slowly inches his way closer until he is sitting right next to me and begins to speak.
"You have many abilities."
"How do you know this?"
"My name is Balthazar. They would like to see you now."
"They? The duplicates? But can I please finish my beer first?"
"Yes. And respectfully… yes"
While finishing my beer, me and Balthazar start to seriously hit it off. We both love special movies, burritos, shadows on cement at nighttime, handstands, cats, contortionism, cooking, farting, living life gracefully, respecting elders, stretching, etc. We end up drinking three beers together and make our way to a local gig down the street. It's a hardcore techno group accompanied by the local church choir. We dance together for thirty minutes, switching top hats in a flirting way. We have a cigarette together outside the venue and then we start making out. Balthazar pulls away abruptly.
"I'm in a seriously strange position right now because I think that you are so swagathonically gifted and beautiful but I also have financial ties with the duplicates. If I betray them by not bringing you to them, they might remove my spinal cord."
"Okay, I understand. Let's go."
The floor beneath us opens up into an impossible metal staircase that seems to be going underground and up into the sky simultaneously. We start going up/down the stairs with both of our shoes creating a beautiful clacking sound on the metal. We reach a small metallic door. Balthazar says a word in a language/frequency that I have never heard before. The door opens.
Chapter 4
The duplicates live inside of a continuously moving cement structure. It is really strange to see two entities who are completely identical to me. It makes me feel a bit more confident though because I like what I see. They are matching, dressed in form-fitting striped tank tops. Even though they are kind of scary, they are still me in essence. The two duplicates always speak in unison:
"We have been waiting for you. We would like you to join us in our mission of attaining swagathonique paradise. We have been communicating with you telepathically and I think you would seriously enjoy our communion. It would benefit you not only creatively but metamorphically as well."
"That sounds pretty cool. What exactly would the communion entail?"
"Firstly, we will analyze systematic regulations and numerical implications. While collecting our data, we will construct malleable software associations that can conduct incredible numerical softwares. We will classify invisible coding structures and rectify the computer interface."
"What about Balthazar? We have formed a romantic connection."
"Balthazar can come."
"What if I don't want to do all that? What if I just want to get to know Balthazar better and continue with my regular daily routines and such? Will you hurt me or Balthazar in a reactionary manner?"
"No, it's chill if you don't want to partake. We just wanted to put the offer out there ha."
"Okay, although this sounds like the experience of a lifetime, I think I want to focus on exploring the complexities of romance instead of data analysis."
"Okay, well if you ever change your mind, you won't have to do anything because we are soul connected, so we will know and then we will contact you again."
"Okay, thanks guys, we are going to leave now."
Chapter 5
After being returned back to earth by the duplicates, Balthazar and I walk around the dark city. We walk around under bridges in the electromagnetic tower section, closed-down strip malls, abandoned houses and parking lots, etc. We specifically enjoy the abandoned parking lots with tarps flowing in the wind and strange shadows surrounding them. Balthazar asks me if I want to go to his apartment and I say yes.
He lives pretty close to me, right near where the farmers market takes place on Sundays. We enter his brick building and race up the stairs. His apartment has a brown leather couch with a huge window exposing the comfort of the city. He makes hot chocolate for me. I am filled with such immense joy and safety in the presence of Balthazar and his home. He introduces me to his cat, Sir Mackinstosh. I think it is very coincidental that the whale I met earlier today was also called Mackinstosh. I also believe coincidences mean that you are on the right path. Sir Mackintosh is black and white like a cow. She meows really loud and is always trying to start heated political discussions.
Balthazar explains his theories to me. He theorizes that there is no such thing as truth, except for the fact that I am awesome.
"Balthazar. Why are we so aligned?"
"I'm not sure. Should we fornicate?"
"Yes."
Chapter 6
While I am watching the re-run of my beautiful love-making session from the comfort of my own retinal scope, I realize that the cheeky photoreceptor whose lap I am sitting on starts to get a boner from the love-making imagery. He apologizes sincerely and I get up to go to a different room. The room I enter contains the entrance to my own neural pathway; the gateway between the retina and the brain. A tall, strange woman enters my line of sight and talks to me.
"There is a mid-century modern living room inside of your pubis. I can send you there through your neural pathway. This is where you will be able to return to the room that you were in before you entered your retina."
"Ok, I'll go."
The neural pathway entrance is a large black circle. It's so dark that you can't tell if there is any depth or if it's just a flat image. I touch it and it feels shiny and soft like delicate hair. I step back and then plunge inside, imagining the mid-century modern living room as much as I can. Since I am currently the size of a proton, the journey takes quite a while. I see my huge beating heart and my lungs. I see my inflamed intestines with digestive enzymes that are looking at me weird in a judgmental way and I try to not feel insecure. Eventually I am dropped off on a red couch in the mid-century modern living room. There is a sunroof where I can see organs. Alongside the couch, there is a glass coffee table with architectural books placed on top. There is a zebra-hide carpet and a record player with CAN playing (Live in Paris 1973). I see a huge sliding door that leads to a balcony. I enter the balcony and look out onto the expanse. I am looking at the room of quantum structures. I am overwhelmed by the beauty of the structural room and my retinal experience. I begin to hear the same high-pitched ringing in my ears that I heard before I entered my retina. I'm transferred back into the structural expanse.