The last half of year, of my entire life has been a touchy situation. Sleep has been an ongoing theme. A theme that if I was graded on would be failing. I created new and recreated old forms of sleeping: from trying every possible angle in which sleep would enter a person’s soul, the couch, to the bed, hanging from a pullup bar whilst pretending to be Batman. Nothing worked. When I did get four or more hours of sleep I woke up with so much fatigue that I could have been a spokesman for fatigues or for that matter anything dealing with lethargy. Ask a college student if they saw a picture of me rolling out of bed and getting to class three minutes before the final exam. Because it’s happened. Many dirty looks I have got, when showing up right on time or slightly late for a final exam. The mutterings are anything, but library voice volume. Not a lot of people cared much. Only caring enough to make certain that you heard their opinion on the matter.
How did you sleep last night?
Anyway!
The story sort of started like this. At least the person who told it to me said it started a lot like this. But, like I’ve said: I’m kind of tired, are you? Sorry, I won’t ask for at least a few more minutes. BUT! I need you to be honest with me. Wait, don’t you remember, my friend? By planting the seed of sleep inside of your lush, fertile brain: your brain latched onto that idea and said, “yup, sleep sounds good. Let me remind you of how much I like to sleep.” So, you like sleep. Good, so do I. Are you tired yet? Good thing you have a couple hours to call your own.
When I am able to get to sleep, there isn’t much that can knock it off the platform for most important thing in life at that instance. Let’s say that if I was at a medal ceremony during the Olympics and I had won the event, but was suddenly offered the Gold Medal in whatever event I wanted to win the most: in exchange, I would receive the Gold medal for that event if I gave up the one in which I had won. What a thrill, it’s something I always wanted to do! Oh, the agony of decision. The determining factor would be that the event that I won was best in sleep. The TV cameras would not be on me, and instead of the three level podium, I would get one bed in which to enjoy a glorious life time of sleep. Not at once of course, but at my own leisure, every night or whenever was deemed necessary.
There was a large neon yellow sticky paper on my keyboard, it said, “Oh, hey there. Thanks for coming around…” It was signed half way legible, half Swahili. There was a P.S. it said, thanks for dinner last night.
I hoped it was a genuine, glad to see me type message, but as I over analyzed everything, just like normal. I realized it was my jealous boss. Always upset that I could meet deadline
It was Thursday, it was gray, it was rainy, cold and uninviting, it was a type of day that you could easily forget about. And most people would head to the bars to attempt to forget this one as soon as God, Country, Queen, work, time and I would allow them.
I put my head down on my computer desk to think a little harder. It felt great, my muscles relaxed and I could feel the joy of the extended blink.
There was a crash of metal and then a large gross splat. I woke up in a semi-panic, I didn’t know where I was, my face was covered with what I hoped were newspapers. It smelled like three day old stale stink, and that wasn’t even the bad smelling corner of the room. I knocked whatever was on my face off of it. I knew I needed food and drink. But, again, what time was it? Where was I? And most importantly could I trust someone to get me though? I walked out of my cluttered office, into a long and what looked like an abandoned hallway. I took a gander to the right then left as I instantaneously hopped over a gallon of skim milk, three corn beef and Swiss sandwiches and ended up right on schedule for the train to Scienceville, OH. I wasn’t really sure as to why I was going, especially because the only reason I knew that the town was real was from religiously searching bizarre names of cities and villages, in great hopes of finding a story that was bigger.
In this story it was known for a fact that there was a rumor of a person that didn’t make a lot of sense, but at the same time most of the people around him believed almost everything he said. The weather was weird, but it wasn’t very warm, so I didn’t care more than I should have. Scienceville was a very interesting town, and just so happened to be the town that the said person was supposed to be freaking everyone out, yet, at the same time making the most rational points that the world was pumping out. I went there to find out just why there was a person claiming to be sane, and at the same time was being watched by nearly every single entity in the known universe. The best part of an entity is that they don’t actually have to exist, that’s why rumors were so large that known and unknown entities were circling this poor soul, night and day. He was forced to believe that these entities were around him, he was never told otherwise his entire life.
The person’s name was Gene Lucas. Gene is 37 years old and has accomplished a lot more than most people his age, but at the same point, a lot less. It’s just a matter of prospective. For a good part of his life Gene tried to figure out if he was a woman or a man. People called him pretty, a lot of the time: this confused him to no end. He would ask his mom if he was a boy or a girl and she would say: “you’re our special boy, Gene. You can be whatever you want.” Gene hated that response and he also hated open ended questions, not only did he have to put up with a ridiculous question, but he was forced to give some type of a prophecy. Those type of questions made his blood boil and his desire to retort with great wrath shown through his dress shirt ripping open in comic book fashion.
(Look for part 3 of ?)
