My life, incredibly, had turned out okay. But deep down, I was becoming increasingly depressed. Becoming subsumed in an inexplicable malaise. I was soon hallucinating, delusional, unable to sleep more than an hour or two each night. As I plunged into psychosis, the floaters I’d seen on and off, since I was a child, were returning with avengement.
The less I slept, the more floaters I saw. And in the floaters, I saw red and various colors that were malignantly effulgent and blinking. I saw bugs in the corners and occasionally the bugs were real; there were huge cockroaches in my apartment that could fly and would emit screeching sounds. Once or twice they crawled on me in bed, and I feared them. I believed they were evil. Full of rage, hate. The cockroaches were agents of evil, sent by, what I believed to be, darkness, and its dark forces.
(I feared the cockroaches would eat me when I died. Like any bug I saw, I wondered, how many corpses it ate… That’s part of why we hate bugs, I think I read or heard somewhere, and I worried these bugs, these insidious flying cockroaches might eat me alive…)
Hate, fear burned inside me as my insomnia grew worse. And I began to have horrific visions, washing into my mind, touching in like tides. They were as bright and vivid as the nightmares I’d had in Austria, but they visited me diurnally.
I was having revelations and visions of a cabal, of murky characters that lived in my TV. They lived in my computer. They controlled YouTube, Facebook. They rested in the electronic eyes. I began to see a Darkness as the controller of it; a lizard, a vampire, a monster being to blame for everything that went wrong.
I could see a cabal. They were God. They were in control. They’d mapped out my life and tormented me. I read a story by Richard Matheson that’d touched on it, about a man who’d stabbed several on a bus because he’d discovered an evil
Buffalo Bangkok: Juvenile Delinquent cabal to be attacking his life. And I was having similar thoughts, was hearing similar sounds and voices.
I wasn’t ready to stab anyone, but I was ready to fight back. I was thinking of again filling a water gun with piss, shooting piss into people’s faces, or just going out, and randomly kicking people, just anyone I saw, kicking them, and doing so would warn the cabal that I was no easy target and perhaps they’d relent.
The cabal was sending me ghosts, too. Ghosts that spoke to me and in me. Past versions of myself. Past versions of me trapped in cold jail cells, chained to a toilet, or myself naked, walking with a shotgun, around my childhood home, searching empty rooms, searching for what, I didn’t know.
There were vicious barking dogs in my dreams, on invisible leashes, led by self-immolating Buckingham Palace Guards who were chasing me down winding halls full of fun mirrors, and mysterious, shadowy people in feathered masks and hula skirts, jumping out from under my bed, poking at me with scissors.
Unlike the dreams, the night terrors in Austria, these vivid diurnal visions didn’t terrorize me, though. It was more as though I was watching them like a horror film.
I knew they were of the cabal. The cabal, not my eyes, was the menace. They were the black cloud, the whispers in my ears, the scent of death, that burning plastic smell I sensed at night.
I started searching for info on conspiracy and shadow organizations. I found theories of lizard people that lived in satellites. I was becoming convinced the stars in the night sky were satellites, controlled by dark actors. And that the sun was their headquarters.
The floaters were imprints of the stars, maps, and warnings of their malevolence.
They were in full control of the cockroaches, too, which had grown more brazen in their attacks on my apartment. I suspected the Vikings might have followed me to my apartment in Sarasota, but I never saw the Vikings. My only neighbors were elderly couples waiting to die, and a beer bellied truckdriver named Steve whose face and awkward gait made him look sort of like a baboon.
Buffalo Bangkok: Juvenile Delinquent (I found a device, online, that emitted a soundwave to deter insects, bought it, found it worked, and I wasn’t seeing any cockroaches afterwards. I considered it my first victory against the cabal, and it likely prevented me from walking into the grocery store and slapping random people upside the head, which is what I’d been fixated on doing…)
((For a little while, too, I’d wanted to walk into a grocery store, slap random people upside the head, simply to see their reactions… I’d been inspired to do so after reading of a Buddhist monk who’d done something similar a thousand years ago, just running around his village, slapping people in the head, with a stick, just to see what they’d do…))
The dark actors, were up there, though, in the stars; they were responsible for my grief. I blamed them.
And I was solving them. I could see them, watching me. I finally knew their game, that my TV was a camera. And so I stopped watching it and began to cover it with a heavy bath towel.
More and more, things were being explained to me, through visions, mornings and nights. At work, though, the visions hid themselves, because the dark actors, I suspected, owned the company, monitored my communications, and could probably hack my brain there, so at work, the voices, videos I saw in my head were silent, snow on the screen, white noise, but when I’d leave, they’d flick back on.
And on and on. Things were explaining themselves; secrets telling me their gospels. Why so much had gone wrong. Why everyone I knew died and why everything I touched turned to shit.
The satellites, the dark actors, I had to stop them…
I began to plan it. Plan a retaliation, a spree, without guns, though, only kicks and punches and water guns filled with piss. The visions, plans were developing, and I was seeing them like a burning bush.
I’d be a Rambo, a one-man army, waging war, slapping and kicking everyone, kicking every man I saw in his balls, punching every woman in her tits. I’d wear an
Buffalo Bangkok: Juvenile Delinquent alligator costume, and hijack a military helicopter, and shoot everyone with piss, and with my dick I’d be running the streets with my dick out, pissing at people.
The power of a naked man, running the streets, the panic and terror it would cause is undeniable!
I’d make it into Area 52, a secret lab in an underwater bunker, deep in Lake Okeechobee, where the satellites had a communications link. From there, I be beamed up to the satellite, where I could then destroy the stars, spank and slap the nefarious operators, free humanity from the Lizards.
I was having these visions, writing about it in notebooks. I was seeing humanity as shit slaves, piss slaves. But this was not through a fault of their own. It was a becoming of the satellites, and how the operators, the dark actors, used money, TV, media, and schools to brainwash, control the populace. If only I could see to the dark actors’ and stars’ destruction, the world could be free!
It was during this fog that I came to believe that I wasn’t alone in my fight. There was an army. The moon was their base. This army of like-minded soldiers, had been attacking the satellites, trying to destroy them for some time. If only I could find them, join the resistance. But even if I didn’t find them, I’d fight alone…