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Death By Stick People ... July 05, 2004

so i erased that old entry that used to reside here because it was too mundane. and i don't want to be mundane and boring, do you? you do? oh, well, then so do i.

anyways, i just keep remembering this fucked up dream i had last night and it seemed to me like those few people who actually read this would rather hear about what's in my head rather than the monotonous stories of how my reality helps me rationalize being a victim.

...i was about to start ranting, but instead let me tell you about this dream (...the promise of full frontal nudity to keep you reading on...)

i woke up and walked into the livingroom. it's unnaturally warm and the lights are out. so i fumble for the switch so i can see well enough to turn down the thermostat. but when the lights come on, i notice that there are all these odd little things running around my feet. they kinda look like ants, but not. i've accidentally stepped on a couple and the others are squeeking what sounds like tiny high-pitched curses at me. as soon as i lift my foot, the crushed -whatever-they-are's- start moving around and that's when i realize they are turning into piles of little black dots that are jittering around and then spreading out. i lean in closer and that's when i can see the black things are tiny little stick people no taller than the height of a dime set up on edge. yes. stick people. and the black dots are actually baby stick people that are growing by the second. soon, i can't tell which stick people were already there and which used to be babies. that's when i hear an explosion and feel something break the skin on my forearm. i look over at the couch and i can see thousands of them and what looks to be a miniature stick person army base. there's this giant silver cannon...well...giant for them, but about the size of a handgun to me. so i'm pissed that they shot me and i go over and knock it all down with a swipe of my arm. the stick people are screaming and running. there are miniature explosions, like firecracker bangs. i know crushing them just makes more so i go and get the RAID from the kitchen and start spraying them. this actualy kills them, no splitting off into stick babies. they scream and melt as i hose down the couch and carpet. it's hideous sounding. then my roommate comes in and starts shouting. "WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING IN HERE?!!?" i tell him and point, "LOOK!" and he kinda freezes when he sees the couch is burning, me with the raid can, all these wierd little "bugs" running and hiding in the crevaces of the couch. "THEY FUCKING SHOT ME! I WAS JUST TRYING TO GET RID OF THEM, THEY'RE TAKING OVER THE LIVINGROOM." so he grabs a bottle of what looks like antibacterial kitchen cleaner and starts helping me.

the dream fades out and then back in, leaving me to assume that a couple weeks have passed.

now i'm in a grocery store with a friend of mine from the internet that i call Masta. we're walking through, pocketing shit. a siren goes off outside, like a tornado alarm or something. everyone starts raiding the store and running out, or trying to hide in the employee only areas. we start raiding too, figuring that now is a good time to do what i was already doing and not risk being caught. masta pulls me, my pockets and backpack stuffed full of food, into a broom closet in the back. he says, "they're coming, we can hide here." i say, "who?" he says, "the stick people." "what do you MEAN?" i nearly shout at him. he explains, "they appeared a couple weeks ago and started taking over the world. overwhelming the cities and towns like a wave of black squirmy things. it only takes one surviving to repopulate an entire colony in a day, too. so we can't really fight them. where have you been? waves of them have already overtaken most major cities and are now flowing out and consuming everything." so i just kinda stare at him for a while and then i say, "so how is a broom closet gonna save us." "it won't, at least, not for long." so i say, "well, if we're gonna die, hows about one last lay and then we have a good meal?" so we just rip off all our cloths and do it like freaks. (this WOULD be the part where i would fulfill my promise of nudity, but i've decided that i'm not telling you anything because i hate you) and then we eat all the food we both stole and lay curled up into little balls on the closet floor until the buidling starts shaking like there's an eathquake. we can hear people screaming, but we keep quiet and just lay there as hundreds of thousands of these little stick people start flowing under the door like some sort of really thick black liquid. the stuff's screaming and twittering and as soon as they make contact with us, the sound they're making turns into a high-pitched roar. my vision fills with stick figures until everything is black.

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