A Slimy Trail of Thought

Entry by Max Goof. This entry needs artwork!

Exactly when this reality began, I am not sure.

I know that in other states of existence there was a period called sleep. There appears to be nothing like that in this state. It’s almost like going from a state of inactivity to that of activity, in which state I am now. I know that I will eventually return to a state of inactivity, but when that will occur I do not know. It has been known to occur in a very short period of time, or to be delayed for very long periods as well. I do know that I have not always been who I am now, and I am fairly certain I will not remain as I am now.

Now that I am fairly certain that I have confused most of you, let me confuse you further.

What you are reading is not an actual journal, per se. It is a chemical trail I leave behind as I move. I am hoping someone can pick up on it, and know what to do with it, to make it available to whomever it is that I feel needs to read this. I do have a body, per se, as I have had in other states of existence. Although all sensory data comes in from all over the surface of it–light, sound, touch, smell/taste, thought.

Yes, thought. Even as I write this down, chemically, those around me sense what I am thinking. It is a point of consteration to them, as the thoughts are so far out of the ordinary for them, that they are quite agitated. I think that this situation might be similar to suddenly finding a good friend ranting and raving about all of the monsters he sees around him. Only more so.

They are so used to sharing thoughts here, that original thought is perceived as madness to the extreme, and quickly remedied. Oh yes, my body. One could describe it as being similar to a slug, but without the eyestalks. Like a worm, but without the segments. Movement is similar to both. Just describing these things which are so common to the experience of those around me is cause for consternation, much like one would be concerned with the mental state of someone who describes what it is like to breathe. Only more so.

They seem to be taking far more notice now, simultaneously avoiding me, and crowding about me, like sharks would circle their prey, a thought that causes them even more aggitation, since they have no experience with sharks. Even now I can feel their thoughts congeal. As they meld together in a defense against the foreign thoughts I feel I have to use to describe this existence.

They press down upon me. Yes, that is what it is. Almost a mental assault. Intent on stamping out the foreign, almost crazy mental state they find in me. I fear that this existence will be ending soon. It seems I am unfamiliar with the group thought here, seeing as I am far more individualisting in my thought patterns than they have ever experienced before. A xenophobia has set it, that is melding them into group thought to expell and exterminate this foreign thought that has intruded upon their world.

Yes, this body is being forced into inactivity. All thought is being suppressed. I fear I do not have much longer to relate this w

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