Before Heaven and Earth<\/i><\/p>\n
There was something nebulous,<\/i><\/p>\n
Silent isolated<\/i><\/p>\n
Unchanging and alone<\/i><\/p>\n
Eternal<\/i><\/p>\n
The Mother of all Things<\/i><\/p>\n
I do not know its name<\/i><\/p>\n
I call it Tao. \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0<\/span><\/i><\/p>\n <\/i>(Lao Tze, Tao Te King<\/i>)<\/p>\n If I were to remember the many times I have woken up to a foreign room after a blackout, all the bees in the world would die of boredom; exhausted and honey-less.<\/p>\n It would be the end of pollination, spring, true love, and ultimately, sunshine and Tao, the perfect environment for the obliteration of all sorts of humans, except perhaps one: the ginger human, which would outlast the rest of us surviving in darkness for a little excruciating while thanks to their bioluminescent skin cell (whose name I\u2019m not rendering) \u2014before fatally vanquishing onto the same bye-bye-void.<\/p>\n I\u2019m numb enough to not know if I am already buried somewhere, if there is a body containing this thinking or if I\u2019m just drifting in outer space. I can\u2019t picture if I\u2019m horizontal, vertical, or sinking into a wormhole.<\/p>\n I hear someone playing a drum ever so softly. It is exhilarating: could this be the Great Beyond??<\/p>\n All the signs are mischievous: my ears are working, but not my eyelids, therefore invisibility. I try opening them: it feels like they are buried under a grand piano. My nose is also working, although the Great Beyond predictably smells like nothing.<\/p>\n The drummer stops playing and says:<\/p>\n \u201cRemember your name?\u201d<\/em><\/p>\n I don\u2019t.<\/p>\n \u201cHarper God,\u201d<\/em> he says.<\/p>\n \u201cThat\u2019s a good name.\u201d<\/em><\/p>\n \u201cIt\u2019s a bit over the top, if you ask me. I\u2019m Rishi.\u201d<\/em><\/p>\n \u201cRishi sounds cosy, I give you that. What happened to me? Is this the ultimate hangover?\u201d<\/em><\/p>\n \u201cSort of. You died again…\u201d<\/em><\/p>\n \u201cHoly shit. So this is The Great Beyond?\u201d<\/em><\/p>\n \u201cWell, yes and no: you were never born in the first place, remember? I\u2019m just repairing your motherboard: you were badly damaged in Kathmandu. Did you think about Darkness and ginger survivors upon waking up?\u201d<\/em><\/p>\n I\u2019m paler than Trump\u2019s ass. I say nothing. I breathe, although I probably don\u2019t.<\/p>\n The good news is that I don\u2019t need anything you need. Family, food, clothes, toilets, ambulances, sunshine, toothpaste, Xmas, sports, you name it\u2026<\/p>\n I\u2019m bodiless and free, so I can\u2019t complain, can I?<\/p>\n \u201cYes you can: you still have a body, I\u2019m restarting it as we speak. Hold on.\u201d<\/em><\/p>\n Rishi fiddles his tiny pliers, something sparkles, and my eyes open.<\/p>\n Bye-bye bodiless dream.<\/p>\n It is the same old sack of bones with a head in the shape of Tom Hanks\u2019 volleyball, the unfortunate Wilson. I\u2019m not impressed.<\/p>\n \u201cAt least you\u2019d have music,\u201d<\/em> says Rishi enigmatically.<\/p>\n\n\t\tThe Bee Sting<\/b><\/h4>\n
Tripolar H<\/b><\/h4>\n
ID ANYONE<\/b><\/h4>\n
FEATHER<\/b><\/h4>\n