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Fanfiction ► What the hell is this?

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Blackest Night

High Priest of Sloanism
Apr 15, 2004
Depends upon the day and if there is free pizza.
Guys...I DON'T EVEN KNOW. I just started writing something and this came out.

It was a very silly day, all things considered. A caterpillar of unusual size sat just before me, perched precariously on something that seemed oddly familiar to what one might call a mushroom of equally peculiar size. For a moment, I thought that I had perchance imbibed upon a smidge too much wine at the wedding. I suppose that doesn't make much sense at all, though. What is a wedding? Seeing a large caterpillar atop a mushroom of comparatively monstrous proportions does seem a little silly, does it not? I had not yet heard of someone seeing such things and I found myself in quite a pickle. What was a man to do when confronted with a very large caterpillar atop a very large mushroom?

I'm afraid I did not find out. it was at that precise moment that I woke, and the large caterpillar and his mushroom companion faded from existence. Well, I'm fairly certain I woke up. Maybe I was awake, then fell asleep. If I was awake, does that mean the caterpillar is real? That's a very strange thing to see, is it not? I mean, one doesn't often take the time to look for such things, but one needn't really focus on finding a big caterpillar on a mushroom. One would think hat such a sight would lend itself to being easily seen, wouldn't one?

Oh, do forgive me. I seem to have gotten off track. Hello there, my name is David. Perhaps it's Drew. Maybe it's Drake. I heard about someone named Darren one, I like that name. Maybe that's it. I am certain that one point I held a last name. Maybe I didn't. I would very much like to have a last name. The man in the cell next to me has a last name. I think it's Thomas. I like it. It's a very nice last name. I hear him screaming often, usually while he bangs his head against the wall. I don't understand why he would do that. The walls have lovely little pillows on them. I would assume that it would be more comfortable for someone to lay their head against it rather than repeatedly knocking their skull. I remember one time, I walked by his cell. I was curious, so I looked. He had a very pretty piece of art in there. I don't think it had a frame. It was blotches of dark red on the white walls, and I thought it looked very nice. I asked one of the people who helped me put on my jacket if I could have one. They stared at me. I think they wanted one too. They called me mad. I dont think I'm mad at all. I'm usually very happy. I'm hardly ever angry.

I'm not terribly fond of the food here. Fortunately, the caterpillar offered me a piece of his mushroom once, and that was very delicious. If I tasted the mushroom, and thought it was delicious, does that mean I was awake when I tasted it? But if I knew I didn't like the food, does that mean I was awake when I ate that too? If I'm awake when the caterpillar comes, and I am then awake when the men help me put on my jacket (it's rather tight, I'm afraid), does that mean I'm always awake? Then i wonder what it would be like to sleep. I think it would be very nice to sleep. I hear wonderful things about it. Sometimes when I go on my walks, I look at other people in their rooms. Some of them don't move at all. Sleep must be very nice. But then, maybe I am sleeping. If I'm sleeping, I would very much like to know what its like to be awake.

Someone told me wha a dream was once. I don't remember if it was the caterpillar or the man with the glasses and the bushy moustache. I like the caterpillar more. The caterpillar's a very smart caterpillar, at least considering what one usually thinks of caterpillars of peculiar sizes. I was under the impression that I would be smarter than a caterpillar, but the caterpillar asked me what the sky looked like, and I didn't know. He told me what it looked like so I guess he's smarter than me. I would very much like to see the sky. I hear it's lovely.

The caterpillar is a very smart caterpillar. I figured he would know what "here" was and how I had gotten "here", if I hadn't always been "here." I wonder. If I've always been "here", have I ever been "there?" I would very much like to visit "there."

The caterpillar told me that I was "here" so that I couldn't be "there." I enjoy being "here", and if I am not meant to be "there", then I think "there" must be a very bad place to be. I would still like to know what "there" is, but I suppose I can never go to "there" as I am always "here." The caterpillar told me that wherever I went, I would always be "here." He is a very smart caterpillar.

I saw someone sleeping the other day. They seemed to be a very peaceful sleeper. Their chest wasn't moving, but they were pale, so I think they might've been cold. I poked them a little bit, just a little, I promise, and they didn't do anything. I figure they must be a very heavy sleeper. I would like to sleep like that one day. Or maybe they were awake. If so, I would like to be awake like that someday too. I put a blanket over them, it was one of my favorite blankets, blue with little stars on it, so they wouldn't be cold. I smiled, for I had done a good thing and if I was a good boy who did good things, the caterpillar would tell me some more of "there", which seemed to be a very different place from "here."

The man with the glasses and the bushy moustache poked me with a shiny pointy thing. I was sad, because I didn't see the caterpillar at all that day. The man said it was a success, but I do not understand how a day can be called a success when one does not see a large caterpillar sitting atop an equally big mushroom. I don't like the pointy thing. He tried to poke me with it again, but I didn't want to miss the caterpillar. I told him no, but he kept trying. The men who help me put on my jacket made sure I wouldn't move. It's okay though. They're very nice man. They laugh all the time. I missed the caterpillar that day, too.

He came back the next day, though. He was fuzzy this time. Not fuzzy like a kitten fuzzy. He looked a lot like smoke, similar to what one usually imagines when one thinks of a large caterpillar sitting atop a mushroom. I told the man with the glasses and the bushy moustache that I saw a caterpillar, but I was told that I didn't. I wasn't sure who was smarter, the caterpillar of the man with the glasses and the bushy moustache, but the man with the glasses and the bushy moustache looked very professional, so I listened to him. I suppose I didn't see a caterpillar. Perhaps I saw a centipede. Maybe it was a worm. I'm not fond of worms. I find them icky. THe man with the glasses and the bushy moustache told me I didn't see anything at all, so I listened to him. He said a caterpillar of peculiar girth and a mushroom of odd proportions were very silly things to see. I don't want to be considered silly, so I decided that I didn't see them.

I was very lonely that night. The man with the glasses and the bushy eyebrows told me that this was reality. I didn't know what reality was, so he told me that it was what it's like to be "here." I informed him that I was already well-acquainted with "here", and that I would like to go "there", thank you very much. He told me I was mad, which I found odd because I don't think I'm an angry person, and left.

The next day he poked me again, and the caterpillar didn't show up. Everything was boring that day. The red blotch was dull. There was good news, though. Someone returned my blanket, and I went to sleep with it that night. It was very cold, and the blanket helped. It reminded me of the caterpillar though. It was a peculiar thing to imagine, I suppose. Caterpillars on mushrooms are very silly things.

He poked me again. I heard screaming that day. I didn't like it at all. It osunded very familiar to me, but I had only heard laughter before. Are laughter and screaming the same thing? If the shiny pointy thing brought me to "here", a place called reality, I was not terribly fond of "here." "Here" seemed to be a very scary place to be.

I miss the caterpillar.



hurr hurr hurr
Dec 17, 2003
In my castle, plotting your demise
If I could fall in love by a single poem, I'd bet its this one. It is just fantastic. His childlike innocence. The way you had him describe everything perfectly ( through a child's point of view of course ). The caterpillar! The caterpillar was ingenious. And that last bit really kicked in. You really need to write like this all the time. It is just so damn good.


Bronze Member
Aug 8, 2004
At times, he really reminded me of Winnie the Pooh.

Honestly, it was brilliant BN. Absolutely Brilliant.


Oct 9, 2007
Court House
I thought "So this is what goes on through the mind of a crazy, yet innocent man." He was ingenius, the way he questioned everything. So very much like a boy that doesn't know what he's doing.. Yep, Winnie the Pooh is a good way to say how this man was.

Loved it.
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