Existence Womb (24)

   
   "Existence Womb (24)"
    
   Miriam was sweetly settled into the Mr. T van--no gold chains though, gold--a mighty conductor, possibly fueling the Ark of the Covenant and its radioactive properties, destroying iniquitous armies, yet kindly making anti-cancerous almonds out of two brothers' Staffs of God, being not a mere statistic, maybe two of them if you're a Talmudic Scholar knowing such, and mere statistics are where TRUTH falls through the linear cracks in a varying existence.
   Miriam had a futon mattress with a Yoda sleeping bag as a cover, her Chiastolite, and quite a weird collection of literature from greedily going to the bookstore, liking to possess her own books and sniff the yummy print, when not using the free, public library where many nose-picking fingers had paged through the vented texts.  She was currently reading about Blaise Pascal, knowing it was wiser to adore the Otherworld than deny it and end up forever stupefied by an eternal realm not appreciating you, as you did not appreciate It--after exiting this life, which is just a womb, like us in the vaginal cavity at one time, eating baby crackers, thinking this is all there is; next, the real and genuine BIG BANG!!!  You're greeted by a roomful of old people wearing masks and cutting your cord.
   Mr. Pewter, uh, Buck, came over and checked on Miriam during her non-working hours, bringing her canned pineapple and bananas; plus, candy bars with dark chocolate--them always containing almonds.  He always mentioned she should read CALL OF THE WILD and get in touch with her Canis lupus arctos, and while she knew much about the American Indians and their Animal Totems--not that one; moreover, Buck would tell her how the author, Mr. London, him saying anyone can make it, even after being arrested for vagrancy, and at one time believing education the answer before exploration and the mighty quill; plus, a love of dogs made him ever so frosty and cool; also, he was beyond the corporations of today that possess everything and trickle down bullshit peanuts.  
   Too, Buck provided her with a stash of the herb-derived pills her father had given her, saying he adored the strain and took them himself, wanting one day to move Westwards, reminding her of the beautiful bard Jim Morrison singing:  "The West is the Best!  Get out here and we'll do the rest!"
   Buck also said he had adopted her in a spiritual sense as a little sister, needing family, but not a snot-squirting baby always getting sick from putting everything in their mouths, just like most sorority girls do.  And then there was his confession about the reptilians.  She gasped that he was so plugged into everything, yet pushed him for no further knowledge that day, him boldly stating:  "We will talk about it later Miriam--in great detail too."
   Again, even with the loss of her biological family and household inheritance, she remained in a state of minor glee, just knowing, knowing that someone cared, and was also a freak, armed with a wisdom superior to the mainstream masses.