The Advent
was a time in my life when I became a detective for the Lord. My mission was to
lead light into torture chambers dotted around the town and beyond. By merely
acknowledging their existence, favour and fortune would be brought to their occupants.
It all started one winter’s evening after a dodgy lasagne and four cans of
mild.
I started
following some familiar graffiti. It led me all around the town, and I live in
a very large town. It was on the
walls, on bus stops, on phone boxes, everywhere. Everywhere I explored, down
every snicket and ginnel, I could not escape this graffiti. I felt like Columbo
being led astray, knee-deep in cryptic clues, down every side street in Dark
Alley District. I ended up in some very scary places, in the heart of the
wilderness, and still I saw this graffiti. I was also following clues in
litter, mainly involving McDonalds paper cup lids and straws. They led me around
the mulberry tree.
I was also
hot on the heels of my clone. My clone was a mega powerful evildoer who’d
stolen my likeness. He had a factory full of TVs (torture victims), being
processed on production lines like tins of tuna. Locating and walking past that
factory on a bleak Sunday morning was non-rational and sorcerous. I felt like I
was in a horror movie dream-state. I felt like I was in one of Eli Roth’s
Hostel movies, about to get dragged into one any second and be pain-inflicted
for all of eternity. It was all very real to me. I was hearing screams and
yells of terror and anguish every time I turned around. That’s part of my
psychosis; my psychosis had obviously followed me out into the streets and into
the wild.
We’re not
talking about a poxy shed, with someone tied-up in it. We’re talking mega
office blocks and multi-storey car parks and industrial buildings, full of
thousands and thousands. I did seek out the solitary sheds, though. I found
them so far as Blackpool, wandering beaches in the middle of the night. The strangest
thing was, I wasn’t even drinking alcohol to keep me going; I was wired on pure
adrenaline and curiosity. Pandora’s Box was wide-wide open. It’s very difficult
to translate. Words do not do the experience justice.
I was
knocking on stranger’s houses at all hours of the day in distant areas and
accusing them of having people in their basement. All I had to do was let the
victims know that I had perceived them, and God would do the rest and get them
out of there by uplifting their souls to Heaven or something. I was also
finding a lot of pipes in the floor around the place, which I believed were
breathing apparatus for underground TVs. There was virtually a pipe in
everybody’s garden. I used to whisper down them.
During this weird
and wonderfully oddball outlandish mission, I was planet hopping to Lizard and
Insectile realms. I was very surely convinced at certain times that I was
surrounded by shape-shifting lizards. This lasted for weeks and weeks, when I
was running on sheer wit’s-end survival power. My fear was outdone by the
curiosity. I simply had to know the scope and breadth of the darkness in this
universe. At one point a saw a truckload of beautiful semi-invisible people
walking off a lorry in the distance along the horizon – some of the people I
was saving. It made all the trepidation worthwhile.
Of course
the U.S government were involved, mixed up with many other voices in my head. They
were telling me what to study and analyse – mainly television aerials on
rooftops for some reason. And all the time I was getting my head shot at with
invisible tic-tacs (ultrasonic pellets), which were dulling my senses
constantly and making me numb to everything I was perceiving. Not to mention
the head transplant. Did I not mention the head transplant?
Before all
this happened, I perceived an invisible Chinese medic performing a brain
transplant on me in my bedroom. He took mine out because it had been pelleted
to destruction and gave me the brain of an oriental criminal instead. This is
what made me super-psychic with all the clues. You couldn’t make it up could
you?
I stayed
clean for nine months during The Advent, my record. How I abstained from drugs
and porno for so long is perplexing to me. I was staying out for days at a
time, and time was erratically unaccountable. It was midnight in the afternoon,
and morning at midnight. The day would pass in but a breath, and all I’d been
doing was walking around looking at graffiti, litter and pipes. Very surreal
indeed, to say the least.
