One time, a long time ago really, I was postioned on a rock facing East and trying my damnedest to reach an enlightened state of zen consciousness. My chakras were aligned and my chi was positively fucking overflowing. My spirit began to hum in tune with the world around me. A dove landed on my shoulder as my mind slipped sideways outside time and space.
It was here I met an old yogi. He spoke a guttural language of clicks and snaps, often punctuated by large blasts of pungent gas. Almost as if on cue it seemed. Eww.
He is inconsequential to the story. He was there though. Or not. I am not the fucking Lord Buddha, he could have been the original Dali Obama for all I know. Again, not important.
I followed a path of candles that burned the brightest blue. The light did not stretch far into the night and I had to strain to see the telltale flickers of blue in the distance. It was chilly and I felt as if I was travelling up.
That fucking yogi though. Like three teeth in his head. Cross eyed with the grin of an idiot. Thick unibrow. Thick. Like it was multiplying in front of you. Like two caterpillars fucking on the poor cross eyed bastard’s forehead for the world to see.
Where was I? Blue lights! I followed the secret path for what could have been hours, seconds or days. Time lost all meaning. I was one with my surroundings. At peace with the world. In harmony with wheel of karma itself.
I eventually found myself in front of these large, jade and onyx doors. They were engraved with larger than life scenes of battle and death, of resurrection and retribution. I tried to memorize every scene. The details striking and perfectly formed.
Did I mention he only had half his left ear? The rest was this mangled pork rind looking mess. And this large mole on the very tip of his nose. Hairs hanging off and over his mouth like a fucking angler fish. Same jutting lower jaw even, but only one of his three teeth protruded.
I traced the path on the doors that most matched my life and it’s journey. When my finger traced the final frame of an old man, stooped over and close to death, the frame of the doorway took on an orange glow and the doors themselves folded in over and over again until they existed no more. A dark room stood in front of me.
I stepped forward into the dark room and lights sprang to life all around me. The room was Scrooge McDuck’s wettest possible dream. Everything was layered in gold and jewels of every cut and color. It traversed beauty to gaudy to beauty again. I slowly looked across the treasures until my eyes were transfixed by two giant green orbs. My feet moved on their own accord into the room and towards the shimmering green.
I froze. It was not a treasure, but the face of a dragon. Instinctively I realized it could swallow me whole. I stared. It stared back at me. I waited for words of wisdom or to become a snack. It stretched its serpentine neck, light flashing off the scales like prism and throwing the full spectrum of light everywhere. Like a giant disco ball capable of rending a man in twain. Fancy.
‘How about that fucking guy back there?’ boomed from his cavernous maw.
‘Right?’ I said back.
‘Like two caterpillars fucking on his forehead.’
‘And that mole. Dude needs a trim.’
We stared at each other, sharing a bemused grin.
‘ Is this it?’ I asked. ‘This is the ultimate nirvana?’
‘Fraid so. Disappointed?’
‘Honestly? Bout what I figured.’
‘And you are enlightened!’ he roared.
I woke up, sunburnt and sore on the rock facing East.