Scriptis noctum

My mind is on fire, I don’t know how to put it out. At night I dream of magma chambers, I’m trapped inside. I can only escape through the lava tubes. I ride them like waterslides. I am erupted from a volcano, on fire and in skeleton form. Nobody sees me. I fall into the jungle, starting a family is impossible. There are no mates here. I lie on my back, watching the sky blink day and night, the sun and moon stripe across the sky. Only the ants will take me in. I join their colony only to be dehumanized once again, carrying food and supplies back and forth. Defecation is my only reprieve, which I learn to cherish. My name is no longer Brandon Johnn. My name is Grandon Vohnn. Then I awake, beads of sweat like ants crawling down my face. I’m home, a new nightmare begins.

Dryness

It rained today. I think the best way to understand the rain is by standing in it, which can leave you feeling wet, inside and out. If you are wet on the outside then you have to dry off afterwards. The best way to dry off is by tumbling or spinning. Tumbling only works well if there is a lot of space, but if you are wet in a crowded area then I suggest you just spin as fast as you can. The force of the spin will expel the water from your body and clothes, this will also leave your clothes looking as if they’ve been pressed. When you tumble, make sure you tumble down stairs or down the hood of a car, otherwise you won’t get dry.

The hat man

This morning I went to the club to work out, and by club I mean street. I was there, working out, and by working out I mean showing off my new coat. I saw a man with the most ridiculous hat. The hat was made of fur, but it was shaped like a giant tooth. A molar. I asked him where he bought it. He proceeded to tell me he was a hatter of sorts and actually made and sold similar hats.

"Take me to your hat store!" I demanded. He got up, grabbed a length of string, and told me to hold the end. He then walked away with the other end until he was about fifteen feet away. With a gesture of his finger I understood I was to follow him, at this distance, whilst holding the end of this string. I did just that. Imagine that! See if you can picture me, in the club, being led along by a man wearing a furry tooth for a hat! In the middle of a workout no less! At the end of a string! What a curious experience!

Max Factor

In my travels around this great city I have noticed that most women have no idea how to dress themselves or paint their face in a way that would attract me to them. I've put together a few tips on how to look the most beautiful. Take heed:

1) Eyebrows are out, shave them off.

2) If you have a mole, dab it with some red lipstick, a pimple or a sore is much more attractive.

3) Teeth are really in right now, show them off, get them as white as possible and buy something large to gnaw on. Salt Blocks work great for this, but put some tang powder on it first, otherwise the salt is overpowering.

This is obviously not a comprehensive list. If you can remember anything, remember these, and you might have a chance.

Just pay attention to my plan please.

I was thinking about how much I love white doves today. The doves they always release at weddings and when peace treaties are signed. The only thing they need is a jetstream, a jetstream all the colors of the rainbow. Whenever anything violent breaks out just release the doves, and everyone will look and see. They'll realize that doves rhymes with loves.

I realize this will never happen, so I have a plan. What I plan to do is wear a pair of white gloves with writing on each of the palms. on the right palm it will say "doves" and on the left glove it will say "loves". When I put up my hands palms out, people will read "doves loves". This will forever force the people who see them to associate doves with loves. Additionally, they'll associate gloves with loves and doves. I'll be the guy who started the global "doves loves gloves" movement. I know there won't be a rainbow jetstream, but I think this is a good start, we'll get there.

Outward Dreaming

Sometimes, at night, I like to look out my window towards the heavens. I pretend I'm a deep space explorer venturing into parts never before seen by human eye. I imagine there are planets with life out there. I imagine it is my duty to observe and document their activities. I watch them when they think nobody is looking. They are unaffected by my observations, their environment stays intact. They shower and get ready for bed, I write it all down, times and places. I take pictures and send them back to earth. My fellow humans won't believe what I see, this is the evidence they need, I keep my own copies to prove to myself it wasn't a dream. My blinds snap back into place as I remove my fingers and retire for the night.

We are dalmations

When I stand in the snow all I can think about is how black we all look next to something so white. When I ride in a crowded subway train I feel the same way. My soul is black and yours are all white, with some black spots. My biggest fear is that somebody will perceive this and single me out.

I saw a documentary on TV about a "soul-seeker", he lives in Uganda luckily. Whenever this man finds a person with a black soul he kills them and feeds them to children in the form of a sweet soup. The reason he feeds black souls to children is to pollute their innocence. There is no malice in this. All of us have a little black in our souls, otherwise we would fall victim to cancer or fraud.

In the US we get our doses of evil injected into our souls by means other than cannibalism. Sometimes it comes in the form of children's vitamins, sometimes I just spray a fine mist of it into people's faces as I walk around the city.