The voyage began when the sun had gone.
Walking through the dark trees with the artificial light illuminating the landscape is welcoming to me. In these past five months, the yellow light has become my second sun.
There they appeared. Four pairs of legs, four Saints.
Ploof approached me with open arms. The Sir Paranoia, Medusa, and Dishdawash were ecstatic.
They brought me to the seats of the open wilderness. Here, they reached a level above common Sainthood.
"We don't know where we're going" announced Sir Paranoia. "Follow me."
We returned to Sir Paranoia's death machine. I sat next to him in the co-pilot seat. Ploof had put music onto a disc that was being played in his death machine.
"Are you ready? You're in the jungle" said Sir Paranoia. The music was tribal drum beating. The car's windows were becoming clouded.
Sir Paranoia's constant speaking made me realize how much of an effect the industrialized fluid had on him. He was frantically speaking. He was amplifying his emotions. He was intensely expressing every aspect of his current state of mind. Thought after thought, millisecond after millisecond until he crashed and we all burned in flames.
He ignited the engine of his death machine.
"I forgot how to drive. I need to know what a car feels like."
As he piloted his death machine, he glided on the concrete like a dove at sea.
That's right. I said it. A dove at sea.
A dove at sea. I said it again.
We piloted to a beautiful place, a place I hadn't been since October 3rd, that Saintly Reminiscent Day.
The View was stunning. Absolutely, unbelievably beautiful.
Once again, we had torn down walls between us. At the summit, only we existed.
Lying on my back, Sir Paranoia was telling Medusa and I about his earlier life, lacking inhibition, and in great detail, he struggled to form sentences.
"I was going to cut her stomach open and eat whatever spilled out" he said.
We parted the View and traveled once more to the wilderness.
Traveling in the dark, we took the back entrance, and entered the 'faculties' to use them.
The foreign fluid had begun to destroy the Saints image of reality. Things were not as glorious as they would appear to be. Ploof had spent a considerable time in the 'faculty.'
Sir Paranoia, Dishdawash, and Medusa had begun to lose all calm.
Paranoia exists in all of us. It exists whenever we feel that we will face consequences. Sir Paranoia's mind has no ability to distinguish logic from consequence in his consumption of unnatural bodily fluids.
Medusa had begun to repeat "I'm so confused. I'm so confused. I'm so confused!"
Dishdawash consistently hummed to himself. He stood up and soon gazed into the restroom. The world had reversed in his glazzies.
Paranoia began to increase, from gradual to an intense spike. The three Saints became so anxious that if Ploof had not returned soon, they would break down.
Medusa looked me straight in the eyes and told me: "I have become unstuck in time! I am Billy Pilgrim!"
I smiled wide and laughed, the Saints are Tralfamadorious. I told Medusa that we are all Kilgore Trout.
"YOU! STOP MAKING THIS A BAD SCENE!" they cried.
"No one knows what we're doing."
"Nothing is right."
"This is illegal."
"We're so FUCKED!"
"Dude, we need to know what we're doing!"
"I'm so confused!"
"SHUT UP! EVERYONE WHISPER!"
"STOP MAKING NOISE!"
"Calm the fuck down."
"I WOULD! But he's making noise!"
The Saints were frantic. Paranoia and anxiety began to enter my robo-cleared mind. I even started to lose control.
"Here's the plan. We're going back to the car" I said.
"What? No! Shut up!"
A voice had echoed from our current location.
The voice didn't belong to us. The voice was deep. The voice was near.
In an instant, we all moved toward the car. No one was speaking. The paranoia was no longer a phobia, it was existing. It was present. It was literal.
Medusa continually replied "What's happening? What's going on?"
None of us said anything until we returned to the death machine.
We were at the same place we had been three hours prior. Except I was screaming. I was screaming at the person who had followed us. I was absolutely terrified. Anxiety and fear are contagious.
We had to get to the institutionalized educational facility. It was 9:30 pm.
A new mission was given to me. Fill the death machine with a flammable liquid. Commonly referred to as gasoline.
At the station, I had parted with the Saints for two minutes. Those were the most quiet moments of my life.
I gave the cashier six dollars in evil paper, and he exchanged this dirty slice of cotton and ink for gasoline.
The amount of dirty looks I received from filling a car with gasoline containing four anxious and babbling human beings are unimaginable. I used a hyperbole.
We entered the institutionalized learning facility. Upon our arrival, rock music had been produced from a closed room.
The music playing was The Doors.
Sir Paranoia's family units had spent the previous twenty minutes calling and contacting him. Sir Paranoia was becoming more vehement with his emotions.
He spent the rest of the night worrying.
The final hour was an hour of calm and collective behavior, save Sir Paranoia.
Medusa and I formed a puppet show, featuring a fly and Piglet. Dishdawash was the special guest.
The puppet show was stupid.
The Saints had told me how amazing I was. I didn't need robofluid to experience a robotrip.
The Saints had traveled to the location where Ploof, Dishdawash, I and our fair weathered friends reside during our lunch breaks. Birds were blaring single frequency tones while Ploof held Medusa.
Sir Paranoia had contacted his parental figures, and soon we had to leave.
The night was concluded with a promise of more Saintly Voyages. Tonight was successful.
If what Billy Pilgrim learned from the Tralfamadorians is true, that we will all live forever, no matter how dead we may sometimes seem to be, I am not overjoyed. Still--if I am going to spend eternity visiting this moment and that, I'm grateful that so many of those moments are nice.
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