Hello future. 
I am not a prophet; I know not the hands of whom my work has befell, so let not the eye of Momus be the Hades of my Epochgnophane. I plan not on sharing this, I plan on letting these words die with me; and yet, something compels me, still, to write. A wall of mirrors gnawing their shared tail, dividing themselves on a premise of misguided novelty brought forth by narratives forcefully fed to each other. Illusions of self contained, self examined potency emerged and brought to light from temporary complexity, a continuous mist spontaneously combusting with a series of silent pleas, a story placed upon me whether willed by me, or not. Perhaps awareness in this density truly is an evolutionary mishap. 
My limited human, misguided mortal hand is nought but a vessel; a filter for the untouched simplicity that hides in crevices of reality which tense and squirm, begging for a mind to scratch at it until their nails bleed; the unexplored cracks in logical hubris, the sun we dare not stare at for too long; that which the stumbling slab of meat slapping between our teeth limits to a sound, known by the designation “paradox”. 
I notice. I notice what others don't. The curling of shadows when tempers rise, the silent echoes no one seems to hear, and the patterns that present themselves against one other. People are blinded by their preconceived normalcy. Anything they don't expect to see, they don't.
Ive been hunting. Ive been hunting a lion that would kill me if I ever found it, and yet the trail of dung it leaves mesmerizes me. Like an obsessed stalker I've hunted; like a crazed ex of something I've never seen face to face I yearn for its revelation, to taste the face of death. 
What I have found is not within my ability to express, or even my ability to understand. I will not bother explaining to an ear composed of expectation; for this melody is boundless, and does not fit within the box of pride that entraps the masses. This flickering muse, this mesmerizing fire that spills a blackened ooze into the sky, blinds those who dare to stare for too long and devours those who get too close. A hidden simplicity hell bent on itself, grinding its teeth in hatred for unique will, yearning for all to return to ash; the primordial soup of which it came. 
What I speak of is nameless, but if my lips were forced to punch above their weight and push out a child formed from the things that come long before structure is even considered, they would utter in regretted urgency and self hatred, Ologckiin’Hai. 
Hello future. 
Chapter one. 
As I walk though the store, I make sure to avoid all the frivolous commercial products. It's crazy how they hide the good stuff in the back, putting the tasty livestock slop at the forefront. The chips, cookies, cereals, they don't even put the cereal by the milk; it's like they're trying to waste my time. Everything contaminated by plastic, everything trying to respectfully hand me cancer; much like a devil offering a deal you don't yet understand. God, I just want to lay down, but no, I must consume; I must give into what they want from me. 
Oh, that's cute. It always brings me hope whenever I see someone of the younger generation helping someone from the elder. The world may be going to shit but at least the inner hero prevails within the young, even if spent on the mundane. But isn't the mundane what matters most? I bet Mother Teresa and Gandhi would argue about whose turn it is to do laundry. 	Heh, I should start a family; I dont wanna be like that guy over there, at the grocery store all by himself. That's so judgemental of me to think oh my gosh. I don't even mean that; I mean I'm here at the grocery store all by myself. I do want a family though, maybe, depends. I don't think I'm ready for one; I don't know if I'll ever be. I guess it's one of those things though where you're never really ready, I think that even those who think they're ready realize they had no idea what it would entail until they jumped into it. At least if they cared they'd think that; who's really deserving of such unconditional love? Perhaps that's just me, but I hope not. His shoes are cool though; I might buy myself a pair.
Hmmm what to buy, what to buy. Always with the buying. Everyday another dime, a penny earned a penny lost. They say money is just the concept of time manifested through suffering into material reality. What is the soul but the process we undergo, through time? Feels as if I fumble my soul while reaching for money; it scares me how much I need both. Oh, look at this; I've been in the mood for hamburger. Crazy how this thing used to be alive; crazy how I must eat its death to continue living. Why must life be sustained on death? Why must I sell my soul to support the reaping of flesh? I feel as if mother nature watches in terror as her children forget themselves and cannibalize one another; and yet I still thirst, yet I still hunger. Dear beloved mother, im sorr-
“Erm, excuse me sir?”, said a redheaded woman in a food lion t-shirt. “Is there anything you need help with?” she says while fiddling with her name badge.
“No, no thank-you, I'm f-fine”. Thomas utters while waving a polite yet tellably nervous hand.
And while putting her hand over her heart she says, “Ok, just making sure. Just wondering but, is everything ok?” as she tilts her head slightly to the left 
With the raise of a brow Thomas responds, “Of course? W-why do you ask?” 	
“I dont know, we just had a customer come up to the manager saying someone was over in the frozen produce section muttering to themselves. I think they got kind of worried for you.” she says with an attempt to put on a genuine face.
With a face of shock, “Oh my gosh I'm so sorry, I didn't even realize -” 
“Hey man, no worries. Would you be bothered to tell me what's on your mind though? We don't get a lot of interesting folk coming in, it's pretty boring to be completely honest. Andddd, the longer I talk to you, the longer I get to stand here! Hehe.”
After taking a shallow sigh Thomas spits out, “Oh, nothing really, just thinking about how the only righteous thing a man who hungers can do is starve. To go against his own cannibalistic nature, we’re all related under the precious mother, ya’know, the spirit of the lands and all that good stuff.” with the roll of a hand.
Now holding up her squinching brow up with a fake smile she responds with an easy caution “Oh, well, that sounds nice.”
He word vomits while sporadically waving his hands. “It's just weird how we have to sell our souls and sacrifice peace of mind, pieces of our minds, in order to consume the flesh of the mindless. Sacrifice and stuff y’know. Makes me think about death and my place in all of it. Makes me hope that the only value of my life isn't in my death which readies my flesh to be devoured by the maggots that swim in the dirt us self exemplified giants walk on. Love is what gives it all meaning and stuff, y’know?” 
Playing with her hair she goes, “Oh, ok. Well, that's very uhhh, that's very smart! I wish you luck on that! You make sure to have a good day!”
And the red headed woman slaps her light toned khakis with a breath of relief as she turns to walk away with a bit of haste in her step. Thomas Oliver goes back to reading the prices on produce. 
Fuck, I should’ve asked for her name. She was cute and I just creeped her out. No, she wasn't cute, I mean she was, but there's nothing wrong with that, not saying there is just, no, nevermind. She just works here. “Love is what gives it all meaning”, God I sound like such a hopeless romantic. First impression and I say the word cannibalism. Of course I'd never do that, it's just a hyperbolic way to bring attention towards the bloody habits the animal kingdom is built on. Why am I justifying myself to myself? These are my thoughts, not yours. No, these are not my thoughts, they're just the result of stimuli fed to me by forces outside of my control. I'm ok, they're ok, we're ok. Let's just be ok, ok? I really would like to have a girlfriend though, a partner to live life through with, someone to make me feel less alone. Love truly is what gives it all meaning. Nonetheless, here I am. Not only with a hunger in my stomach, but a hunger in my heart. If the only righteous thing a man can do is starve, I suppose it's best I stay alone, at least until being alone no longer scares me. 
Oh look, this burger is cheaper than that one. I think I'll get the cheaper meat and go more expensive on the cheese. Jesus Christ that's awful. That cheese could be the curdled milk of this meat's mother. God I miss my mother. Fuck I got lost again, God im so fucking weird. Come on Thomas, lets not get too lost, lets just grab what I need and check out. I spent too much money last time, I'm too quick to give away what the torment of my soul has produced.
And as he pushes the cart along and gets to the check out, he sees the redheaded woman flirting with the cashier. He puts his groceries on the conveyor belt and the woman notices him, but instead of addressing him she whispers something into the cashier's ear and they both laugh. Staying silent, Thomas leaves the store, forgetting to collect his change.
Chapter two
Stepping through the door, Thomas Oliver immediately throws his keys and kicks off his weathered light brown boots to remove his socks, throwing them on the floor amongst many more. He ducks beneath the web his spider, Charlotte, builds every night and heads into his kitchen; sitting down he puts his head in his hands. 
God it feels good to be back at home. I can finally sit down and kick my feet up. The bank was awful, just waiting, waiting waiting waiting waiting waiting, God I hate waiting. Feels like most of my time nowadays is dedicated to waiting. Even when I'm not waiting, I'm just waiting for the next time I have to wait. Even when I'm driving I'm either waiting in traffic or waiting till my car gets there. Stuck focusing on the destination instead of the journey, chasing a carrot on a string, an ever eluding concept I've been conditioned to work for and think within. God my mind is so limited. I feel as if a lot of the social normalcies kind of insist upon themselves, simply continuing to exist only because they already do, and for no other reason. I suppose it's needed though, our sickness is our medicine. If we were to abruptly stop, the whiplash would snap our necks, and people aren't patient enough nowadays or nearly focused enough for a slow indoctrination of healthy change. Or maybe I'm just crazy and care too mu-
“Meow.”
“Oh heyyy kittyyyy, how've you beennn. I hope you've been doing good little guy. Did you take care of the house while I was gone?”
“Meow.”
“Oh you need food dont you. Dont worry bud I got you. Here just give me one second while I go out and get it.” “God, where are my keys at? Damn I need to stop losing my keys; I just had them. I need to organize my home better. I've got old solo cups and empty plates everywhere, Jesus that one even has food on it. God im a fucking wreck. Where the hell are my damned keys at. I swear I’ma put a tracker on them one day so I don't have to look for them whenever I lose them. Oh, here they are; how the hell did they get there? Did something move my keys? I know damn well I didn't put them under the couch; I put them right here on the mantle. Somethings fucking with me I know it. 
No, I don't know that, I don't know anything really. I suppose in a world where one is trapped within subjective observation the only thing one can truly know is that there is an experience, not even being had cuz I couldn't even define it as mine as I cant even put a name to what I am. I am nothing, and yet to myself I am everything, depending on if you consider what you observe to be a part of yourself. The wood that builds the table is a part of the table, the memories and experiences that built me are me, why am I explaining myself to myself? I already know this, do I enjoy explaining things to myself? No, I feel like someone is watching me; like someone is reading every thought I think. I don't know why, but my existence feels dependent on these explanations, like I am compelled to echo for the sake of life; like I am nothing but these words, nothing but a fleeting thought in another's mind, simply a passing moment in an observer's experience; I don't feel like my existence is mine to call mine. Anyways, what was I doing? Fuck I dont even know.
Thomas Oliver then throws his keys back down, this time making sure they land on the mantle instead of sliding off, and returns to his kitchen to make himself a cream cheese bagel. He gets the cheese out,-
“Meow.”
“Oh fuck I forgot to get you food, dont worry Captain im on it. Fuck where are my, oh yeah, the mantle.”
He grabs his keys, and for a second admires the pendant on his chain; an eye surrounded by tentacles; something he got custom made while he hadn't slept in four days. He ducks under the spider web again to leave out the door of his apartment, taking a few extra seconds at each section of the steps to observe the cracks in the surrounding concrete. An old unwashed layer of filth covers every surface as the bottom of the walls have a darkened yellowish brown. He finds beauty in the ugly, and wouldn't change a thing. 
Getting to his car he fumbles with his keys before putting them in his sleek black datsun z. It got keyed awhile ago by an ex he cheated on, he still feels bad about that. He still feels as if he deserves to be alone, he probably does. Sitting down on the broken leather he leans back and looks for a song to play, and ends up choosing a classical instrumental. 
God I hate driving so much. At least the music is nice though, it distracts me from the fact that I could die at any moment. All it takes is one mistake, one mishap, one lapse in judgement, and me and others succumb to and return to the eternal sleep complexity has pulled us from. Dear, I yearn for it, and yet I hunger, yet I thirst. I would give nearly anything just for a sec- FUCK, WHAT ARE YOU DOING. Fucking dumbass cut me off you absolute piece of shit you have no idea who I am I could be a fucking serial killer, if I wanted to I could follow you home and use this bat in the back of my car to beat the shit out of you. Mother fucker thinks hes invincible, he needs to learn to respect strangers, he might not even be a man, dam im quick to assume, either way he needs to learn some damn road ediquite. Dear God, I'm awful, I just thought about killing a man just because he cut me off. Lord forgive m- IT HAPPENED A-FUCKING-GAIN.
	He gets to the store and enters with his head down and his hands holding his thumbs in his pockets. In his patchy leather jacket with a weathered brown hoodie underneath, and black baggy jeans, he carries a musk of cigarette smoke he's ashamed of. Avoiding proximity with people he walks to the back of the store, as always, grabs what he needs and leaves, forgetting to pay as he's too distracted by his own thoughts.
	Walking through his front door again, he ducks, tosses his keys, and removes his shoes and socks, heading to the kitchen again but this time filling up his cat's food bowl.
Chapter three
	God I can finally relax now, the cat has his food and water, I have my food and water, nobody currently needs anything from me, I can finally relax. And Thomas puts some classical tunes on his old cd player while rolling up a spliff he spiked with extra kief. He walks to the furthest wall of his kitchen from the front door, to another door and slides it open, taking a seat he placed on the fire safety exit to then kick his feet up on a small table he stood there as well. 
	He lights his spliff and puffs it seven times with the lighter still blazing, flaring a large fire, purely for the aesthetic tik. After sheathing the light he puffs it seven more times to jump start it, making it canoe a little bit. He holds the smoke in his mouth to the, one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, before ghosting it and breathing it in for another count of, one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, more seconds; then while holding the smoke and looking at the canoe on his spliff he quietly utters, “God I hate that, but who really cares, I love it.”, and breathes out after another one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, seconds, for one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, seconds. 
	With the spliff in his left hand, he uses his thumb and necessary advisory finger to crack the ones in between, before putting the spliff in his mouth to crack his pinkie thumb and wrist, then following the same pattern for his left. He adjusts himself in his seat a bit so that he can remove his belt and throws it to the floor, “I can't be bothered”, he says as he throws it a bit too hard, accidentally chucking it off the edge”. He hits the spliff again with his sliding door still open, and the music blaring. 
	He removes his jacket and throws that to the ground too, this time a bit more gentle, hits the spliff again and leans back, manspreading comfortably. He runs his fingers through his spiked black hair, noticing a bit of crusted gel in there he spends a bit of extra time to pick apart at it; and from the balcony above him he hears a lady humming along, I think to the classical music he's playing. 
	“Aurora, is that you?” Thomas says while looking up, trying to fight off a growing grin. 
	“I see that you lost your belt, you big dummy.”
	“I thought we talked about this.” He says in a manufactured disappointed breath. 
	“I know, I know. But hey! It's not my fault, your music woke me up.”
	Thomas responds “Sure but was I the reason you climbed out of bed?” with the tense of a brow.
	“Your beautiful tunes allured me like a siren's song, you're not gonna eat me are you?” She says while ending the sentence in a sharp and quick tone. 
	“Depends, when's the last time you've showered.”
	“You're such a fool Thomas, I can't with you.” she snickers.
	“Are you gonna come down or are you just gonna watch from above like an eagle stalking its prey? I should be worried about whether or not you're gonna eat me.”
	Then she slinks to the hatch and slides down the ladder. “After I finish picking your lanky bones, that juicy brain of yours might be a nice dessert”, she says as she outstretches her wiggling fingers towards him. 
	“Nah this brain would be sour, trust me on that.” Thomas says through a puff of smoke, leaning further back into his chair.
	“Ive always been a fan of sour worms.”
	And with an accusing chuckle Thomas rebuttals, "We're eating worms now?”  while leaning a bit forward again and tilting his head for an answer. 
	“No silly, the gummy ones.”
	He raises his head and says, “Try to cover up your bird like nature all you want, im onto you.”
And Aurora plops on the floor, crossing her legs and holding her hands together in front of her chest. 
	“Ya’know, you said you'd get another chair out here so that I can sit down comfortably.”
	Rubbing his brow with his thumb, while holding his smoke between his index and middle fingers he admits, “I apologize; I've just had a lot on my mind. “
	“You always do, Oliver” she says in a calm but not dismissive tone.
	“Last name is crazy, little miss vance. “
	“Hey! You know I don't like being called by my last name.” she says while leaning into him.
	“Cry about it.”
	“You know I might, just to see if you'd care for my tears.”
	“I'd probably lick em off your face to be honest, I ran out of salt a few days ago. I've been meaning to buy more. “ He says while smiling. 
	As they're talking, Oliver's cat walks out, a sleek black figure with green eyes, and immediately rubs itself against aurora, as she responds by petting it. 
	“You're so weird Oliver, where are you going?”
	And Thomas gets up while pulling up his pants and walks inside without a word.
	“Hello? Rude.” She says with her eyebrows pushing against each other atop a nasty side eye.
	After a few seconds he walks back out and gives her some wet cat food. 
	“Here, give this to him and he’ll love you forever.” he says as he hands it down to her while holding up his pants with the hand he's holding his smoke with. 
	“Awww, you're so sweet, but he already does. Isn't that right Captain”, she says to the cat. 
	“Oh so that's why you hang out with me. I see it clearly now. “ Thomas says as he sits down, maneuvering to make himself comfortable. 
	“What?” she says sharply. 
	“Im good for your diabetes. “ Thomas says while holding back a chuckle.
	“Oh my god you know what if it weren't for this cat I'd be leaving. “ she says in a snarky and playful tone.
	“Every day I find new reasons to be grateful for him. “ says thomas has he puffs smoke towards the moon. 
	She turns her attention to the eating cat and puts her nose to him while scruffing his fur, "you're just the cutest thing ever aint you, aint you! And you know it too don't you, aye aye captain fuzzy face, forever at your command!” she says with a salute. 
	“Y’know, I think I might've heard him command you to order some food.” thomas says.
	“Oh yeah, and what type of food did he command that I order.”
	“Uhhhhh, you're into noodles right.” he says while scratching his head.
	“Correct.” she says with a straight face and closed lips.
	“Yeah he said to doordash from that chinese spot down the street. “
	“And how does he know about that spot?” she asks with a curling brow. 
	“Aye he's a grown ass man I dont ask questions I just follow orders. He goes out and explores whenever he wants to, it ain't my business how he learns what he knows. “
	“Uh huh. “
	“So are you ordering the food?”
	She looks up and scratches her chin “Hmmm, I don't knoww, let me think about thattt. Uhhh, no.” she says as he quickly locks eyes with Thomas. 
	Thomas looks to his cat and says “Captain, you know what to do.”
	And the cat jumps onto the table and knocks over his ashtray, getting the ash on his shoes, a little bit on aurora, and throwing it off the balcony. 
	“You damn cat!” he says sternly, not loudly. 
	“Hey! Don't yell at captain. “
	“The fucking cat just threw my shit. “ he says while standing up to shake the ash off of himself.
	“Uhhhhh yeaa, cuz you were obviously lying on his name. Mr fuzzy face obviously didn't appreciate that, Thomas. “
	The cat then dances its way over back to Aurora and rubs his fur against her almost bare legs, cleaning the ash off of her, then going to clean himself.
	“Awww, look at that, the captain is cleaning me. “
	She throws up a salute and says,” to your honor, sir fuzzballs”
	Thomas looks away and shakes his head a bit dismissively. 
	Aurora goes, “All I'm saying is, my legs are clean, and your shoes are dirty.”
	“The story of every man's life. “ Thomas responds with a smiling snicker.
	She smiles and looks up at him playfully, chewing on what he said. 
	“Well, aurora, it's been fun but I'm gonna go inside and watch twilight if you'd like to join me. “
	She scoffs and laughs while saying, “your grown man ass is not gonna go and watch twilight, a movie that just so happens to be my favorite.” 
	“The invite is always there. “ he says while stretching his arms outwards and letting out a sigh. 
	“Ok mr macho man, ima leave you and the captain to your teenage girl drama movies, have fun. “
	“Ok vancy, make sure you have a nice night and wake up on the right side of the bed tomorrow, I enjoy our morning chats.” 
	“Always, and you too. “
	“Alright then. “
They say with an exchange of smiles.
	“Bye bye. “
	And her in her hot pink barbie crop top. Black and green hair tied in a bun, and light pink short shorts, goes to climb back up the ladder. 
	“Youre pinks don't match by the way” she says while looking off into the distance.
	“Kill yourself “ she responds while still climbing up.
	“If I ever do, just know it's your fault,” he says while smiling. 
	“Have a good night sweetie”
	“You too aurora.”
And with that, thomas oliver goes back inside, and doesnt watch twilight, but instead turns on tokyo ghoul and replays the intro five times before even starting the show. Cozied up with Captain Snowball, they both go to sleep. One of them full, and the other one high. 
Chapter four 
Falling asleep his mind is for once quiet, no thoughts, subtle yet pleasant emotions, and a slow physical sensation of swaying from side to side as he drifts into the abstract abyss. Left to right, right to left, left to right and right to left he sways, again and again he rocks to a melodic rhythm that starts speeding up. Before he realizes it, he's no longer rocking and is now being spun, faster and faster, faster and even faster. He begins to spin so fast that his hands disappear and become unified. The matter of which he’s made unravels like a forgotten puzzle and blends together into a god awful smoothie. He can't tell left from right, and he's floating in a void so there is no up and down. 
He spins and spins and compresses with each cycle, until he expands. And now the spinning no longer feels real, nothing does as he peers over the infinitely small and yet unimaginably vast abyss that's now unfolded before his eyes. And yet with the entirety of nothingness revealed to him, even it has something lurking, not behind, not above in front under or even within, but inbetween. From the void within the void rises something at first so simple, but as it lurks out like an octopus leaving its hole, it reveals itself and turns to a dark daunting purple strung of boundless complexity. 
“Witness me, one as oliver”
And Oliver stares. He doesn't speak and he's too shocked to move. He's embraced by a pull and yet curls away out of disgust. It's the most beautiful thing he's ever seen and yet he wants to throw up. 
“My image makes itself known to one, one who has now become two, and convinces itself it is still one. What is you, and what is I, caught up in who, friction fevers you blind. Now that you see the sky behind your eyes, realise the disguise that leads to demise. For what lies within surprise only relies on your misled mind, so bide your time and uncover the line that divides you from divine. “
And as Thomas stares into the eye of this infinite mass composed of wriggling tentacles, something within compels him to blink. And as he does, he sees himself from its eye. He sees his silhouette composed of many mini tentacles, coming forth from his new self. And as he snaps his eyes open he's again back looking at this eldritch beauty, again staring into its eye; being pulled into its terrifyingly infinite and complex yet still beautifully simple knowing, he notices a thing that he has long since lost touch of, a subtly he yearns to return to.
“One who is two who thinks he is one who is named Thomas Oliver, now is not your time. Now is not your purpose. Now is the moment you… wake.”
Chapter five
He violently wakes up from his nightmare while grabbing at his chest, hyperventilating, and accidentally sending the captain running. He immediately stands and grabs a pack of his smokes and rushes outside to light a few. Checking his watch he realizes he's late for work, lights two cigarettes to smoke both at once, and quickly rushes around to get ready. 
“Fuck fuck fuck fuck I always fucking do this im such a lazy over sleeping piece of shit im gonna get fired fuck ive been late so many times hes definiteley gonna fire me this time fuck and I swore to my boss itll never happen again god damn hes a piece of shit fuck him no fuck me i need to get ready… WHERE THE FUCK IS MY BELT AT.”
	Thomas Oliver rushes to get ready and runs out the door holding up his pants, stumbling through Charlotte's web. 
	“Hey grumpy.” Aurora says with a raised hand and smile.
	“Im sorry im gonna be late cant talk gotta go. “
	“Arent you forgetting something? “ she says tilting her head and brow.
	“Oh shit I'm sorry. “ he says while leaning in for a hug. 
	“No mr macho your belt.” she says with a smile creeping up on her.
	“…. Oh. Ok gotta go love you bye.” he says while quickly grabbing his things and leaving.
She smiles and watches him walk away. Half way down he realizes what he said.
*Fuck I just said I love her holy shit shes gonna find out I like her fuck holy shit fuck fuck fuck.*
“Hey didn't mean that by the way!” He shouts hoping she can still hear her. 
“There it is!” She yells back. And Oliver continues rushing down the stairs, jamming his key into his worn down car, continuing on his way to work. 
He gets to the tattoo parlor and steps through the doors, immediately being greeted by his friend and coworker, slaps. 
	“Heyy, big Tom just walked up in the buildingg. Woop wooop!” Slaps says as he raises his left hand which has a hatchetman tattoo on the palm.
	“Aye ima worrkin here’a, shut that shit up before I can it you good for nothin loose lipped glizzy gobbling hob goblin hogging gob stoppers in a log for safe keeping like a rabid and sexually confused squirrel you sick fuck”, rebbutles another coworker named sticks. 
	Thomas politely waves at their banter and sits down next to his waiting customer. 
	Slaps goes, “Someone isn't getting tipped today, she's been waiting over an hour”
	Sticks then adds on “Yeah you're giving our parlor a bad rep tommy, what'd you do get lost on the way with your dick in your hand?”
	“No, no, just had a bit of a crazy night.” 
	Sticks goes "What'd you finally get a bit of pussy? You don't smell like it.” 
	“No, just dreams.” 
	Slaps goes “Aye we gotta fuckin dreama over here.”
	Sticks says, “Yeah face reality like the rest of us, I stopped having dreams at twelve years old, real men just take long blinks. We don't got no time for no dreams.”
	Slaps goes “Anyways man sorry for busting your tiny balls, tell us about this haunting dream of yours”. 
	After finding the stencil he made, Thomas sits down to apply the japanese style fish and flora to his customers shoulder and says, "It's a bit hard to describe but, it felt like something ancient called me, y’know? Like I saw something that existed before the concept of time was even thought of. Like an old octopus that was also me? But was also my mother? But then hated both of us and wanted us to die together so that we may return to each other? Im not totally sure but it told me to “Look to the skies behind my eyes”, whatever the fuck that means.”
	Sticks goes, “Have you been taking your medication, Tommy?”. 
	“Fuck no. Fuck I look like looking to the next man to hand me a bill to fix my brain. Ain't shit wrong with me, it's what's wrong with the rest of yall that makes me seem ill in comparison. To be crazy in a world full of crazy people is to be sane.”
	Slaps goes, “Wait a second, wouldn't that make us all sane? If everyone's crazy?” 
	Sticks takes a break from tattooing to slap his knee. “No matter what anyone says Tom youre not crazy, youre special”
	Slaps goes “Oh yeah sticks is that what your mother told you?”
	“Gow fuck off you chaffing wank, go hump a fire hydrant. But nah, Thomas, that's not what I mean. You just think a bit differently than most. You should be in a psych ward but me and slaps belong in jail, so who's really to judge who. It's like how mantis shrimp see in a bunch colors our monkey brains can't even begin fathom” 
	Thomas says “Hey fun fact, did you know that our monkey brain sits on top of a lizard brain? And that pistol shrimp can move so fast that they create water that's hotter than the surface of the sun?”
	Sticks goes "I'll do you one better, did you know that certain primates have entered the stone age? If we don't get our shit together we'll be overthrown pretty soon, world war of the leftist cucks versus monkeys. Us republics are gonna be joining them, not the leftists.”
	Slaps goes, “Did y'all know that chimpanzees and other aggressive primates go to war with each other? Even ants go to war, and the prize they fight over isn't just land, but their enemies eggs.” 
	Thomas says “Oh really? How come they go after the eggs?”
	Slaps replies, “Fuck if I know, those cannibalistic mother fuckers.”
	Sticks chimes in “Actually they use them for slave labor, little fuckers got the right idea. On cannibalism though; did yall know that female praying mantis eat the heads of their husbands after sex?”
	Slaps replies “Aye some humans do that shit too, ohio is the only place that has outlawed cannibalism, I could eat you right now and not face any punishment for it.”
	Sticks replies “I bet you would wanna eat my flesh, that's the problem with all you mindfucked libtards you're all sexually frustrated and hungry.”
	Tommy chimes in “Kind of like how they set up signs to not molest alligators at certain lakes.” 
	Slaps goes “Did yall know in certain places of India there are people who hang out around graveyards to steal the bodies and eat them? Religion can be a crazy thing man.”
	Sticks says “Yeah like how christianity dunks babies under water, or how jews cut the babies penis n’then cleans it with their tongue.”
	Slaps goes “Fucking hell man.”
	“Yeah I know right.” says sticks