Honeypot Lane

They were specialists, they were specialists at making the Filth Universe, the Garbage Universe, the Cheap and Trashy Universe. ‘Keep on manufacturing the Trash Universe boys’, I told them and as I said this I laughed. I laughed because I knew that they had to obey me. They had no choice. I laughed because I knew that they were going to obey me. I was part of the Trash Universe too. I couldn’t ever get out of it.

 

I was in a world of my own, thinking about all the things that I had to do, thinking about all the things I ought to do and thinking about all the things I knew I possibly could do. I was thinking about the things I might do and the things other people might do and the things other people mightn’t do and the things no one would ever do and if you walked by me in the street I wouldn’t even have noticed you go by! That’s how much in my head I was.

 

My own thoughts were creating the rubbish universe – each thought unpacking its cargo of fully-programmed nanobots, every one of which was capable of assembling a fully-automated factory unit for producing viral realities of the most appallingly degraded nature – viral realities that you and I would have to live in! I’d have to live in them anyway – I don’t know about you. I’d have to live in them forever…

 

I would laugh out loud ever so often because I had created the Garbage Universe, the Rubbish Universe and now everyone had to live in it! Astral bodies like translucent comb-jellies massed in the sky above my head. They could travel at incredible speeds and they could also hang all but motionless in the air, their flagella vibrating softly along their prismatic sides holding them them in place. They communicated telepathically, they communicated in the form of song, in the form of verses. That strange unearthly smell was in the air, that smell that I had never smelt before ever. It scared me and thrilled me at the same time. It was part of the Other World. I had created the garbage world I had created the garbage world. My thoughts were the decay products of an ancient evil planet – they will keep on decaying forever. No one would ever be able to count how long it would take…

 

Faces are so amazing, aren’t they? Some are good beyond compare, others are evil beyond belief. Only no one needs to be believing or not-believing anything of course – that’s just a figure of speech. Some faces are so alive – others are so dead. I’m frightened to see my own face because I know I’m one of the dead ones. I don’t want to see how dead I am, I’m frightened to witness that. I’m full of decay products at this point and no one wants to come near me. People avoid me on the street – they are tactful but firm because they don’t want to be contaminated. I know no one wants to see me. It’s bad luck to see me.

 

The coffee break’s over now and I know that I have to go back to work. I have to work through my client list. I’m working in the Honeypot Lane Community Mental Health Center. I’m a therapist working for the Highgate and Hillingdon Mental Health trust and my job is to try to talk to people about their problems. We have all got problems of course – I realise that. I recognise that. People may look as if they haven’t got problems but they have. We all do. We don’t all like to talk about them though. Some people think that they’re not real whilst others believe that they are evil. There are lots of different problems in the world – I realise that. I recognise that.

 

 

 

 

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