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I was headed for destruction, the car ramming down down down the cliffs, seeing the fjord coming closer and all that drowning water ahead of me, trying to invite me. The car was creaking, making sounds you shouldn't hear and I felt like humptydumpty sitting on the wall, wondering if suicide is the best option.
So I took the paper, coloured on one side and blank on the other. He left, called me forty minutes later and asked me if all the paper had dissolved and I said yes yes, I'm floating. I want to return to the womb of mother earth. He said, take a shower or a bath.
And I did. The dream'o'meter was pacing, racing mad at speeds the light would envy. I was the water, the water was me and happiness engulfed all of the world.
The phone rang, a man's voice.
“Sorry, we can’t insure you for a journey like that.”
And I felt disappointment for humanity itself and all thoughts pouring through my head were nothing less than epic and I was riding a car and all of humanity was with me and everyone counted on me to keep the car on the road, I couldn't bad, I couldn't bail out. I had to keep the car going. To what purpose I asked? To what purpose?
So I found myself grinning, heading for destruction.
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