Fri 1 May 2009
For a long while, I stare at the gaping hole in the wall. My Bad Ronald has always been able to use his secret doors to come and go in my brain’s main corridors. So the irrational fear in my gut that he will escape and attack me like the evil baby in It’s Alive is the fear I feel everyday about being alive. Will Bad Ronald pull my strings?
In a strange way, I’ve busted out of the prison my Bad Ronald found himself in for him, sparing him the tragic and sad ending at the end of the Bad Ronald movie. But in a sense that makes me a Bad Ronald. I’ve willingly participated in the drama of a part I normally wouldn’t want to associate myself with.
I don’t think I can expect him to show himself just yet, even though I sense him lurking just out of sight like a black shirted, human sized leprechaun in black pants I once dreamt about.
Time to let myself be drawn back in. Candle in one hand, slapstick in the other, its time to get busy. I don’t think this is over yet.
There are these stony stairs in the between-brain hallways that weren’t there before. I hear a repulsive, but beautiful voice singing in echoes through a deep, watery cavern below the halls. I swear I can smell and hear the sea.
A peculiar rage comes over me, and an unbearable hunger, as if my stomach were running on empty for hours. My ears begin to itch furiously. For a moment I’m too out of my mind to take in the surroundings I find myself in.
I hear a deep, resounding noise out in the faraway ocean. I realize something out there is answering the singing in the cavern. My Bad Ronald sings in dark caves, and ocean creatures, maybe even sea serpents, talk back to him.
I listen, and lose myself in the mysterious between-brain below-hall cavern near the sea. My Bad Ronald ain’t so bad.
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