Buying a Monkey: Part V (of a 5 part series) - Victory Edition

Fighting distractions so I can type what I want to say. Thanks for all the tips! Every little one helps me get along in life.

The Meaning of Life (as it should have been)

We all choose a life. We choose our history, our parents, our brothers and sisters, our friends, everything. We have the ability to control our lives and decide what we want them to be. This reality is malleable.

Choose a better life for yourself. You don't have to be a slave, make your family better off. Focus on luck. This affords you the time, to concentrate on learning about the 'machine' that you live in.

The illusion of 'reality' is designed for suffering.Everyone has a fear that has been programmed into them. Negativity feeds this reality and keeps it alive. Guilt, paranoia and fear feed it. The guilt of 'doing nothing' for me, feeds it and stops me from focusing. Everyone is being pushed to be slaves of the system. I have heard myself say before, that everything around you is an illusion.

The sure fire side to enter this 'higher' reality is by using drugs. Drugs are not mushrooms or lsd, they are the illusion of the concept that takes us to the other realm. In this other realm, we are able to alter our reality. The problem is to achieve this state, we must overcome the paranioia of taking drugs.

This higher reality does exist, yet it is not allowed to be talked about in the media. The government are trying to stop this happening. We need the whole planet to be on drugs*, so we can all simultaneously all be equal.

*note: 'to be on drugs', nobody stays on drugs, you take them and it allows you in*
Equality creates justice. Inequality creates difference. Difference creates prejudice. Therefore, we should not fear difference. Once you have seen others in the true light, you must realize that you have been all those people before.

We create our reality when we are on the other side. Everyone enters the other side, whether it is through drugs, sleep, or no sleep. We realize that this is the place to command things, to realter the coding, to change our lives. Then we forget. But the shaman is able to go back and forth, bring news and make changes.

The creative is the communicator, who is the shaman. To be able to bring the experience back to reality. My whole life has been very successful this time in giving me the opportunity to (ironically) crack the meaning of life.

Typing it is difficult. I am distracted, pulled away by an unseen force that is attempting to mess this up. I have been successful so far. I am in the most relaxed state now, although I am starting to feel distracted. This zone is further away from reality. Dammit I lost it.

We have to be careful for what kind of life we wish for. All lives come with an amount of pain and suffering. All lives come with struggle. Be humble and choose in between. There is struggle in all of them. Whatever life we choose there will be suffering. Be brave for whatever your life might be.

To be able to change our lives, we must be able to surrender everything that one desires in that life. Desire is the greatest distraction from achieving ones goals, don't worry, everyone goes through the same thing, but it makes it harder for you to change your life. One must realize that everything in reality is fabrication, an illusion, and see beyond the veil, it is easier to choose your life.

Every single experience enables you to complete another part of the puzzle. That's why we need to be on Earth, it's the only way to gain that experience. You can choose your experiences by altering your life. Everytime you are successful, your life gets a chance for being bettered.

What is better? There is no good or evil. There only just 'is'. Everyone is the same, we are all each other, the actions we perform to someone will manifest itself in another lifetime. Therefore we are taught to hurt each other and fear the same consequences.

Let me put it this way, we're in some machine that allows us to do whatever the hell we want, but be prepared to face the consequences. (what you do in this life, will come back to you, that is known as Karma.) Fear and paranoia affect those who have everything, hatred and anger affect those who want to have more; the truth is, that they chose to have that life.

While, I'm typing this, it sounds so dumb when I read it. I fear people will laugh at this, but I'm trying to help the... (there, the laughter again!) This has been the greatest fear along, the paranoia, it destroys me. But I have to keep faith in you (the people) that you can grasp what I am trying to tell you. We must alter our lives for the better, and we can make the world a better place. Everyone is rich, oh how it's easier said than done (oh he can say that because he's got it- you say), yes I do.

It's really hard to get these ideas out, they skip and jump infront of me, and then I get distracted, but I still have to write them out. Got an itchy arm, that is from the life that is pulling me back in. It is a real skill to write when in this zone, that's why I admire how Carlos Castenada did it. I feel sometimes that I have been Carlos Castenada and he has been me. I actually did believe at one time that he was just a bogus shaman, but experience has led me to believe otherwise. Hmmm, you're probably thinking fruitcake alert.

Another part of my easy life, is these grammar courses. The guy makes grammar like mathematics, should it be that way? Shouldn't true expression be much easier than that? Someone is inducing fear. Maybe they want me to be unable to communicate? Trying very hard to make some sense, there's almost a force that prevents me from explaining the experience.



Here is my story (the reader), but it is everyone's:

There is a group of 'familiars' who I see everyday of my life. They are 'familiars' because when you 'meet' them, you would feel as if you had known them forever and longer. They know things that are useful to you and help advance your life.

Fears become a problem when trying to find your 'familiars'. They make you feel scared that you are going insane, or that your life is going down the drain. In that sense, that stop you from doing the things that would otherwise push your life forward.

I must overcome my paranoia to be able to succeed. I decided to open my mind and I am back here again. This confusing place where I have alot of power to alter my reality for good or bad. Things will stop me, we all have this ability, just realize it.

I fear that I could do more. It's hard to control the bad things, I wonder if they just come with the good things. For example, bad follows good. The more good, the more bad. Other people have interests to change the world for the bad, those are the people we should be trying to convert! Didn't want it to sound like a religion.

What is good or bad? They are the goods that everyone wants. Everyone wants good, but to some, their good will be bad. Therefore there is none, they are concepts. Bad is something that you disagree with, good will always be things that you agree with.

How do you create a stable reality? Everyone should want nothing. But it's hard, we all want something, and we hold on to it. That's why we're bound to our 'lives', and why we use drugs to break out of it. We're tied to our possessions and our history. I may have asked for too much this time round, and I will correct it.

Then you have the crowd, who think that I'm totally insane, some people will agree with me who have shared my experience. Others will tell me that, 'I am not in any position to tell them how to do it.', believe me, I am. That is why I am here, and I have the time to do this. I have plenty of time to write. Writing is the way to pass the message, assuming that it is not censored for exposing too much. I have done it! I have done it!

When we ask for things, we should be considerate that it does not hurt another. We should not ask for much. We should accept the lives of others. For whatever reason, a person is the way they are, they chose their life in order to experience something, whether for humility or understanding.

People look at me as if to say, why I did not choose the life of a homeless guy for experience. I have fear, I shouldn't, perhaps it is because I am a coward. A homeless person sacrifices comfortable living, so they can have a life free from paranoia and need to conform. It is better to be well off and doing good deeds for people, rather than be poor and bitter. I have access to writing to tell you how to do it.

When I read this, after I am back to the mundane; the text will make absolutely no sense. The information will make me sound crazy, but I'm not! This is the way I did it, and this is why I am who I am. I did it, I made it happen. Let's make the way a better place. We can all lead by example.

We shouldn't judge a person by the life they lead, or how they look, or act. They are just all acting. Everyone is acting. Everyone chose the role that they're playing in this life because they made that life. The Earth is not real. Certain things hold me back from revealing more; I had to overcome the Ego to write much of this advice.

There is one truth, and that is Love. We should realize that we are each other, everyone has their turn. By loving each other, we learn to love ourself. Unconditional Love is the greatest gift you can give someone.

The choices I have chosen, have made me somewhat eccentric and a little boheme. Those things also drive my paranoia. If I can climb over the hurdle (my fear) that stops me from addressing you my findings. I will certainly read this and find it funny, it's sad because it's supposed to be serious. Language prevents us from describing it. Understanding language well, helps us conquer definition. Once it can be described then it is able to exist.

I think Canada is a great country. We are not afraid to talk, there is more freedom to be able to express ourselves, to not fear the unknown and speak of it. More people will listen to me, if I do not fear them. I have a fear of opening up to people, it makes me cautious and paranoid. These cause me to stay rooted in the boring luxuries of earth and become wasted and unable to further myself. It is no life, but I have the ability to speak to have a voice.

These ideas are fleeting, it is like walking through a field of butterflies with a net that is too small for me to catch them. There are certainly more things that I can learn. I've given myself the opportunity to explore the truth in this way. This is life, this is the true meaning of life. Positive thought will reduce the distractions within your life, so you can meditate on improving your situation.

Suicide is waiting for those who cannot cope with life. Life is life, you cannot control it, it is your choice, you have to accept others for their choices as they will accept yours. You are your own punisher. Your own worst critic.

I may do things quite strangely. I have done this many times before. The lesson is not to judge others less you judge yourself. This creates unity. We accept each other for what we are - the beauty of diversity.

Ego makes this writing, but the paranoia of having Ego can also prevent you from doing things that could be beneficial to others. Therefore, it is best to think that you will strive to make the world a better place.

Writing is somewhat magical. The magicians of the past, were the learned writers and readers. Language transforms the world. My life is in total synchronicity right now. Everyone has their demons and angels, and with the inspiration of the signs and clues, I am now able to turn words into reality.

What is reality? Reality is the language that humans use to communicate with themselves. Alter your reality, and free the time in your life for your pursuits.

Everything I have written sounds crazy, I can see that. If I saw it, I would throw it out. I wish I could show somehow, how I have managed to be where I am.

Buying a Monkey: Part IV (of a 5 part series) - platinum edition

When they created the entity, which we understand as the Earth, it was happy. Earth was one spirit, but it was also an unstable creative being. It's natural inclination was to try to be different things, and it had the ability to do so, but for whatever reason being one thing at a time wasn't enough, so the spirit known as the Earth became divided and broke itself into different shards of itself; like a puzzle, the spirits of the Earth were scattered like sand into a breeze.

The spirits of the Earth acquired forms which we are familiar with as everything around us. Spirits worked at varying levels, although the ones which caused the most conflict were those spirits who are know as humans.

Humans have always been aware of the existence of spirits, although they weren't accustomed to the idea that they themselves were spirits, or part of a larger identity. Beings from the other planes of existence outside of the fragmentary illusion of the Earth became interested in the Earth entity, and wondered if it could ever piece itself together again. Now and then, visitors from another part of the universe would put a piece of Earth's puzzle together again.

Creatures outside of the Earth's influence found that the spirits of the Earth were all smartly encoded with information. What this information is, nobody knows, but how we understand it, is a form of energy that is stored inside every physical body. The day that the Earth would be one again, is when are the spirits united.

Some of the humans became aware through drug experimentation or other acts of consciousness expansion that the Earth was once a single entity. Those people came together and although they did not know the implications of uniting, they had a feeling that it was good. The Earth, being made up of separate entities had forgotten who it was and the power it held to bring all consciousnesses in the universe to another level. It was a key, but a broken key, and in order for the key to work, it must be slowly reassembled.

Humans are naturally social animals, although they can also be constructive and destructive simultaneously. The need for the company of others, is the spirits natural inclination to be joined and to be one. Groups of humans formed together, with different interests, many of whom did not know the reason why they were drawn together. If a group reached a critical mass, the total sum of it's energy would multiply and affect the other groups on the planet. The biggest problem was that the groups or divisions of people had different interests, and the two biggest groups were divided in those who did not want the Earth to be reconfigured as a whole, and those who preferred to remain divided.


Capturing the Flag: The Clues

Some of the people on the Earth were different from others. People were encoded with parts of information that did not make sense until they were united, but also that information could only be read when a person with 'catalyst information' could open it up. The Catalyst or Clue information was encoded into certain people so that the spirits could understand what they were doing by reading parts of the whole without being completely united and allow them to reach a critical mass towards their goals.

Each Clue was hidden inside a random individual who was not aware of it. Groups knew whether consciously or unconsciously that they wanted to add these people to them in order to complete their knowledge and to allow them to reach another state of understanding that would gain them an advantage over groups against their own interests. The Clues were highly sought after, and those groups would fight for these individuals.

The Clues would unconsciously make their presence known like a beacon and people would be drawn to them. Clues were often discussed, written about and praised in works of art or science. The Clue was contained inside an individual but was also not the person. The burden of carrying a clue, was that it made you do things that drew attention to yourself, so that other people could find you.

When a group is formed, the information within each individual is shared, although that information is not understandable until a clue has been connected in order to decipher it. This information can easily be unravelled when individuals leave the group. When the Clue leaves, the information once again become lost. This means that the information can only be remembered as long as the group remains cohesive, otherwise it is lost once again.

What we understand as information, is that it is power. The idea that pervades our societies is that Truth, the ultimate knowledge, can help us attain a form of Enlightenment. The information of the whole Earth entity is what is know as the Truth.

The search for the Truth is within every individual. It makes us curious creatures and therefore explorers at the same time. The will to look for the Truth requires a form of energy within us known as Faith, which also functions to maintain information gained. When the Truth is incomplete, it cannot call outside of itself but only within, so as an incomplete whole, it ends up calling within itself and therefore repeating. This also has the function of solidfying itself, and making itself known, so that the quest for completion will continue.

Buying a Monkey: Part III (of a 5 part series) - gold edition

Click here for Part II of this exciting five part story.

'I must question who I am, for who am I to question when I do not know what or who I am' - Tolza the Angry

There comes a time when evolution moults so fast that it leaves bits of dead skin all over the place to feed the cockcroaches that walk in it's tread...

A small bunch of monkeys had decided that evolution just wasn't happening fast enough and therefore devised a way to speed it up. It involved peeling away the scalp, then cutting and removing the top half of the cranium to reveal the brain, and finally sewing the flaps of the scalp back without the bone. The radical operation allowed the brain of a young monkey to grow beyond the size limitations of the skull. This created a soft part on top of the head which was thus protected with a metal helmet.

This operation was performed on all the young who lived in the megatropolis that sprawled a large area within the rainforest. Scientists had isolated a compound found in a rare species of tropical fungi that stimulated brain growth. They also discovered that the brain, beyond a certain size, would in ratio to mass, decrease rapidly in efficiency and function. This was overcome by injecting a microbial parasite into the cerebral cortex of the host which targeted specific receptors that sped up the brain's processes.

***

Jim-Ma-Ha-Jan yelled a tight raspy hiss, he was asleep and couldn't wake. Paralysed, he endured the remainder of his nightmare in which some strange looking beings had abducted him, strapped him down to a shiny platform, and proceeded to chop his head off with a blunt axe. THUP! The last swing of the axe came down as he suddenly sat up in bed, sweaty and shivering. Shakily, his hands inspected his neck, and when the concept occurred to him that it was only a dream, he relaxed and took a deep breath.

Jim-Ma-Ha-Jan, or Jim Jan as many of the villagers called him was also the mayor. He had been elected as leader for being the strongest alpha male monkey within the tribe. This small community lived as close to the sea as the trees would take them; their houses were constructed off the ground, perched in the higher branches and foliage; safe from predators, or most of them anyway.

Ever since Jim Jan was a youngster, the elders had shared stories about a civilization of monkeys that lived inland. These monkeys did not live in trees, so they were nick named ground-walkies. He heard that the ground-walkies had opted to pursue a life that involved making and collecting 'things'. The pursuit of things had caused many of them to become hideously deformed, their bodies mutated and their minds inflicted with madness.

Up until recently, the ground-walkies had not been a threat to Jim Jan's village, but now it seems that some were not intent with living in the megatropolis because of crowding and wanted to move away from it to live in the tranquility of the coasts. In order to make way for construction, soldiers had been sent to force out the primitives, but the soldiers had scarcely any experience in jungle combat. The combination of being ill equipped with survival skills had considerably weakened the mens' morale and strength; by the time they got to the village outpost, the soldiers had been easily overcome and captured by the natives.

The sun was beginning to crawl over the horizon, casting long shadows from the trees, and causing the waves in the sea to shimmer. The villagers had locked the captain in a hut, his men were in a caged pit filled with muddy water. It was going to be a long day for Jim Jan who had taken it upon himself to interrogate the captives from the night before. With a few guys from enforcement, he made his way to the makeshift prison where the captain was shackled.

The captain of the ground-walkies army was a tall creature, I said creature because he barely resembled a monkey or any other known life form. His legs were bald and spindly from lack of use; before they removed him, he had been attached to a seat with motorized wheels. A large belly with tubes connected to the device attached to his head. Eyes, the size of plates, stared blackly into the light when they opened the door of the dark space. They dragged him out to the village square and tied him to a tree stump.

Villagers were already awake, Jin Jam could see faces peer through the windows, too afraid to come out but curious enough to linger at a safe distance. He looked back at the creature on the ground and grimaced with disgust.

'What shall we do with him?' asked one of the guards.

Jim Jam continued to stare at the vile being, he did not even look at the guard to reply, 'Remove the attachment from his head, I want to see what's underneath.'

The guards proceeded to handle the device, forcing the captive's head backwards as they tried to figure out a way to detach it. The creature made a noise, a series of meaningless grunts and howls; they kicked him hard, and he stopped. There were some knobs on the side of the helmet, and the guards proceeded to loosen them. Finally, the device was removed with a loud hiss and a pop.

They stared at the strange pattern that presented itself on the head of the creature. It was a maze-like texture that protruded through from beneath the skin, and when they prodded it, the captive would twitch. There was a thin black tube that still attached the head to the helmet. Jim Jan grabbed the tube and tugged it, it wouldn't move, but when he pulled it, it would lift the skin into a tent; he pulled it up and asked the guard to cut the skin with his knife. It came away easily, they tossed the patch of skin that was attached to the tube. They were gazing at the creature's brain which glistened in the brightening morning day light. 'I'm going to consult the village shaman.' said Jim Jan.

A small crowd had gathered to watch the shaman poke sticks into the stranger's head as he twitched and shouted. The shaman had ordered some villagers to boil a pot of water and put some rocks in it. He wrapped a towel around the creatures head so that it formed a crown shaped vessel, and proceeded to carefully drop the hot rocks in it. The smell of burning flesh could be smelt as the brain sizzled from the heat; a couple of guards held the victim as he entered a seizure. A few moments later he died.

The shaman reported to Jim Jan who waited patiently at the edge of the spectacle, 'It seems that the parasite that resides in the creature's head controls the body. By killing the parasite, I have also unfortunately killed the host.' The shaman handed Jim Jan the brain which he had prised from the captives skull, 'Here is the parasite.'

-to be continued...

Buying a Monkey: Part II (of a 5 part series) - Alpha Redux

Click here for Part I of this exciting five part story.

Once upon a time, when the land was dark, before the Great Macabadee was bothered to go to the dollar mart and buy a replacement light bulb, which we now call the sun, a monkey philosopher, Tsing Tao Chikun said:

There are times, when you know what to say and it is the truth, for the truth is ethereal as the light of day and brighter than a thing that gives off an awful lot of brightness; and there is no truth but that truth which is deemed to be true.

Our beloved monkeys, for there were only one kind before the later devolution period which introduced the birth of homo sapiens, roamed the earth for billions of years, looking for the meaning of life. These humble creatures, greater than the sum of their parts; basically, a hairy skin bag, containing calcium scaffolding and untasty squishy red meat lumps, decided to start a religion.

What is religion? once asked a not too incredibly wise, but immensely curious creature; a beast with fierce piercing eyes, a dangerous pointed beak for a weapon, sharp talons and majestic wings: a chicken to be precise. The wise monkey philosopher called, Brack Brean Solce (by his friends), explained, as he clipped his toe nails into a steaming hot bowl of noodles and weiners, 'Religion, is something that is, what it is, it is not what it is not, for it is the being, not included or exclusive, a word that represents the representation. In essence, the insubstantial containment of the matter which we pertain to be what eludes us.'

The chicken, whose name was Fred, nodded in agreement; although, he really had no clue what the monkey had said, and was only doing so in order not to appear stupid. The monkey was wise enough to know this, in all actuality, he had set the chicken up in the first place, and now the monkey laughed mockingly behind his hand. Later that day at about three minutes past five pm, Fred's life came to a nasty bloody end, when he happened to stumble upon a gathering of druid monkeys, who immediately sacrificed him to the alien overlords.

Having discovered religion as a viable way of getting stuff from the alien overlords that they appeased, they started to use religion as a form of control to make other monkeys do their every bidding. In reality, it wasn't really that hard to get the primates to what they wanted, these hairy beings were very good at copying each other; rituals and ceremonies were easily learnt, but it was for the same reason that practical knowledge could be passed on too. Then science eventually replaced religion, and science enabled an abundance of wantable objects to be made, and then the new religion of commerce was born.

'Things' that's what the early monkeys called them. 'Things' were what all bipeds wanted, they loved to own things; particularly shiny things that did things. Everyone loves things. So a society was created, where things were created, and bought with things that was earnt by making things. Things became fashionable, and then they became unfashionable and back again.

Some of the monkeys loved things so much, that they wanted to write about those things, praise them and sell them. They wore the things with pride, and because these were influential monkeys, all the other monkeys wanted those things too; as if the things themselves imbued the wearer with a magical power.

A great monkey thinker, bothered by the obsession with 'things', solemnly remarked:

Things, who needs them? Is it the monkey who wants the thing, or is it the thing that wants the monkey. I don't know, all I know is that I don't want anything but a Rolex gold watch.

So the monkeys eventually stopped thinking. The process of buying things, does not require much brain power, all it needs is the basic function of the brain to imitate. Some of the monkeys, came to a sudden realization that they were nothing more than hairy skin bags of red stuff supported by white calcium logs with a pair of eyes and tentacles who were programmed for the acquisition of things. They were angry; firstly for the things having failed to seduce them, and secondly for the fact that they couldn't get a refund for many of the things that they had bought.

The enlightened monkeys could see what their society had become. Through carrying heavy loads of shopping, their fellow beings had developed an arched back, a wide gait, and stretched arms that swung near the ground. They no longer groomed the fleas off each other because they were too busy shopping, and therefore became covered in large glowing red hives which often became infected and oozed with pus. Enraged by all this, the enlightened ones left their forest dwellings to live by the sea where they would have wild parties by the campfire on the beaches.

The alien overlords, Mary and Jeffrey had moved house, they left the locker labelled, 'The Earth' to the new alien overlord owners. The locker was discovered by the new occupants in the attic, covered in dust. When they finally prised the door open, because the key was lost, a few million years had passed within it's stuffy, cobwebby confines, and when the alien overlords looked at the piece of paper that had originally been covered with ink blots, they found instead, that it was now an advert for Walmart.

-to be continued...

Buying a Monkey: Part I (of a 5 part series)

There are some things that one should know and not know, and other things that one should know to distinguish from each other.

Purchasing a pet, particularly a carbon based life form is no easy matter.

A monkey, similar to a human but far more superior in terms of intelligence and physique. Michael Jackson kept a monkey that he codenamed 'Bubbles' to act as his manager and commander.

What is a monkey? A monkey is composed of a brain, a pair of eyes, a pair of nostrils, a pair of lips, two arms or tendrils which divide into five separate tendrils, a pair of legs or tendrils which culminate to a pair of stinky feet.

The creature is fairly symmetrical up until the molecular level. It has a solid system of scaffolding, that some rather peculiar human beings decided to call bones. The bones support the lumps of flesh that make up the majority of the organism.

The monkey can be compared to a smeared drop of ink on a page, a nuisance, but more often than not, a beautiful sight to behold. Why is the monkey's hair so inky black? Because the alien overlords created them with a broken fountain pen.

Allow me to indulge to you, the story of the creation of monkeys:

A couple of alien overlords, feeling quite bored after a game of table cricket, decided that a fun pastime would be to create a few new creatures and add them to the storage locker that they labelled 'The Earth'.

Each alien overlord (for there were only two at the time) decided that they would take turns going to the bowl of excrement, and produce forth from their testicles a tablespoon of milky white substance to be placed within a translucent container with a 'Hello Kitty' logo emblazoned on it's glass. (note: before some stupid human thought themselves clever enough to call the milky white substance, sperm)

One of the alien overlords, incapable of manufacturing this substance that modern day humans call 'spunk'; cheated, and put phlegm into the provided vessel. The 'Most Important Record of Times' show that the alien overlord went by the name, Mary.

Mary died a few billion years later from a boob infection.

The other alien overlord called himself, Jeffrey. His greatest achievement was creating a biological unit that functioned as a thinking device by the name of Albert Einstein. That is another story and it ends right here.

The alien overlords with their pots of milky white substance, skipped merrily into their back garden while looking up at the sky and thanking themselves for such brilliant creators; they made themselves, and were happy for being worshipped by themselves.

At the back of the garden was a small forest. It smelt terrible. There is a being that lives in the darkest shadow of it's undergrowth, it's name is Unmentionable. The two alien overlords, high on life, found Unmentionable sitting at the base of a tree. It was slimy and shaped like a sausage.

Once upon a time, a silly human, being not very happy with the state of the vocabulary of it's language, and terrified by an almost paralysingly morbid fear of not being able to communicate to it's tribe, invented the word 'shit'. The creature previously known as Unmentionable became shit.

So the two alien overlords consulted this being that we now refer to as shit.

'Hello...' said Jeffrey, smiling uncontrollably and licking his lips as if some strange twitch had seized his tongue.

Uncomfortable silence. It smelt bad. Nothing. Strange pause. The two alien overlords looked at each other and shrugged.

'Uhhh, I hope we're not disturbing you at the moment, we can come back later?' continued Jeffrey after a brief but polite period of inhaling and exhaling a jittery halitosis breath.

The shit looked like it was about to move; and then, it didn't. Jeffrey and Mary left and came back later. Upon the second visit, the shit spoke:

'The information that you seek from me, is hidden in you, but because you are too lazy to look within you for the answers that you seek, then I shall tell you. The formula for making an interesting and superior lifeform is to mix one part milky white substance with a jet black permanent ink, and it must be expelled from a pen that's had it's voice consumed by anger.'

There is a fountain pen that lives in Jeffrey's unwashed underwear drawer. Nothing special, just something bought from the dollar store, passed down through generations of alien overlords as a family heirloom. It sat there neglected, seething with hate, the hate of a thousand fountain pens that had been discarded in a similar fashion. It was so bitter and twisted with hatred for Jeffrey and his family, that over a period of centuries, it's nib had warped into a misshapen shard of metal.

That was the pen they used; that one. It smelt like Old Spice aftershave, Brillo cream and dirty cum stained boxer shorts. When Jeffrey, or The Jeffrey, as his friends preferred to call him, attempted to remove the said item from his drawer, he discovered that it had developed a fond attachment to a pair of his soiled Y-fronts. The two lovers, the pen and the underpants were inseparable.

They had mixed the blacker than black ink with the substances that they had acquired from their slightly uncooperative bodies. Filled the reservoir of that angry pen, and when they wrote upon the lined A4 paper, it produced a series of offensive drips and blotches on the clean surface.

When the paper was placed into the locker called, 'The Earth', those ink marks evolved into monkey beings. The alien overlords, Jeffrey and Mary were not amused. 'Those monkeys are too good for their own good...' Jeffrey would mumble everynight for a week after their first appearance in the locker, while he slept.

-to be continued...