The man's eyes opened slightly then closed again. The bright light seemed to burn off his flesh. His head still spinning, he rolled over and pressed his forehead against the surface beneath him. Many questions were flying through his head. But first things first. He brought his hands up to the sides of his eyes, using them as blinders, slowly letting the surface come into focus. He lifted his head, his eyes adjusting. Not seeming so bright this time around, laughing at the deathly peril which the light had presented itself as before.

He tilted his head, galking about the room. It was quite large, white walls, white floor, everything was white, his sallow skin only a few shades off. Even the woman lying about ten feet away didn't stir any contrast in his mind. Her body strewn naked. Sleeping steadfast. Examining her figure, flashes of the previous night popped into his head. The body of a goddess. Her breasts mesmerizing with her little movements of breath.

This is actually another thought altogether and doesn't really go with the first part....when i get more i will separate them all.....

Looking into the perils of his paranoid universe, he once again began ranting aloud. Claiming that his delusions of persecution were implanted into his thoughts by the group, in order to distract him from forming a conscience rebuttal against them. However, realizing how unhealthy and counter productive it was to deal with the aspect of becoming paranoid in regards to his increasing paranoia, he quickly changed his train of thought and began yelling into his pocket accusing his dead stuffed parakeet of eating his last cookie, which he had swore had been in there just moments earlier.

Not satisfied with the bird's lack of response, he quickly pulled the bird out, tossed it to the ground and began smiting it with rocks, whispering that if patsy kline were still alive things could have been different. Once he was satisfied that this act of treason would not occur again he placed the bird back into his pocket. Then recalled the fact that he had traded the cookie for the stuffed bird some six months earlier, and felt somewhat silly and foolish, but more secure towards his feathered friend's loyalty.

Six months, had it actually been that long. Ranier lifted up his head to look at the sky, where had all the time gone and where the hell was he. So many days spent ranting to himself and hiding from the persecuting eyes of the demons around him. So much time lost do to certain over indulgences satisfying his tempered mind. Ranier's appearant stench gave him some indictaion to the length of time since his last brief encounter with other's reality.He searched through his pockets, emptying them in the process, leaving the pocket with the parkeet alone, not wanting to see what else was in there quite yet.. Paper littered the ground, he found his last reciept. Ah yes, dinner at Lotiez, images vaguely passing by of that, or another time, it did not matter. Definitely one of his favourite spots, home to more than one of his eratic ventures.

Hunger pains quickly rose, he couldn't recall wether or not he had eaten anything substantial since that night at Lotiez almost 5 nights prior. Lotiez, how long would it be before he would find himself there again, probably tonight. Ranier took a good look around, the city streets were crowed and bussling with activity. Ah the lives of the masses, how he felt sorry for them, their narrow grasp of reality. Not that he believed his was much better, fully admitting his parnoid dilusional states, he was just trying to hide from it it, they were just unaware.

The sun shone down scorching his skin and baking him in his already rank clothes. He put his arm above his head to block out the heat and squinted to see his watch. Two o'clock, he should be back just in time to get cleaned up and go. Time to find a phone, what city was he in, it didn't matter, they would know.

As Ranier approached the booth, he heard the familiar short pression of blasts from a vehicle behind him. Followed by a very distinct voice, "Sir, if you please." "Ah they are getting better", Ranier coarsely laughed, "last time I actully made it to the phone booth." He turned ....and.......The collection car was a sleek black sedan, cutom made for the CORE.... I might get around to finishing this sometime...ha