Lost In The Woods. (Patreon)

Behold the premiere of my new.... short film? Yeah why not. 

This is a true story about my actual life but it's also a movie, as is my actual life for that matter. Also it's patreon exclusive because fuck everybody, no one deserves this midsummer masterpiece except patrons. I have nothing but contempt for the world of man and I'll let the worms feast on my corpse before I allow the unwashed masses the privilege of viewing even one of my many adventures for free!

This is the real psychological horror, this is the true divine comedy, this is the ultimate display of good and evil in a beautiful yet spooky world. This makes the Blair Witch Project look like Blair Witch Bullshit. Friday The 13th is like a walk in the park compared to these spooky woods. What, did you see Midsomer? Did you think it was a good little silly-scary-nature-drug movie? NO. Get out of here with that noise because this is the ultimate of that genre too. My scary trees will kick the scary trees in Mortal Kombat's asses. 

Is this the final adventure of Endless Me? Do i even survive this one? Or is this all being written by my Ghostwriter, myself as a ghost? Perhaps this recovered footage wasn't even uploaded by Me, but by the next intrepid traveler who came upon my moss-encrusted cadaver and detailed cave-glyph instructions to take up my mantle as the new Me, so that the old Me can become one with the Green and take up that mantle. It's mantles all around. One big mantle-switching orgy, and who knows... by the time it's over we might all end up back with our original mantles and little memory of what transpired at all, rendering the whole thing another pointless excursion into chaos. Or maybe i'll just end up with all the mantles. Maybe all these mantle-switching Me's were Me all along. Maybe i'm already connected at the roots to all things. Maybe the earth breathes through me and my prose is but the gateway for a far more ancient consciousness to at last be heard. The answer to all that is duh, obviously. 

Also it's my birthday, apparently. I don't know what relevance that bears to anything but people keep reminding me, so if i have to crack open my Metapod husk and emerge another year older you all have to watch me. Today I officially turn 1,000. I haven't gone up in a blazing supernova and cleansed the stink of mankind from the Earth with a scorching wave of death... yet. So you're welcome for that. Keep delaying my apocalyptic fury with your valuable coin, and i will continue astonishing you all with my Traveler's Tales and Legendary Journeys.

But that's for later. Today i get to be old. It's an indulgence i must permit myself with increasing frequency as the ravages of time have their way with this frail body, and entropy gnaws at my bones. It's 2:45 pm and I'm tired. I'm ready for it to be over. No cake, no visitors, and no damned singing. I just wanna sit in my chair and fall asleep watching Deep Space 9 in peace. Out of all 24 hours of my birthday, 18 of them are now past my bedtime. 

The change is upon me. I'm "feeling my age" as it were. I met some 12 year old cousins of mine the other day and actually had the thought "these are the best years of your lives", so that's how i know it's all over for me. The end is nigh for the Footwear Guy.  I am officially over the hill, and through the woods, to Grandmothers house i go. The only question left is whether Grandma's waiting for me up above or down below. 

I may not know where the path ahead leads but soon enough it will be time for me to go back into the woods for my final excursion. I will lay my old body to rest, nestled in a hollowed out tree and drift off to the next life comforted by the sounds of flappy bats and croaky toads. Grieve not, for i am merely returning to the earth. My body will become the grass your children play on, and my soul will be doing 80s drugs and cool skateboard tricks in Heaven or Hell, having crazy drug sex with angel babes or demon babes or whatever. Probably both. Who cares. I grow weary of this bit. 

To those who've discovered this dead man's journal and seen my final words I say thee long days and pleasant nights, and may we meet again, in the clearing at the end of the path.