The idiot's path
The Fith Ball
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who am I?
why am I?
am I?
Sample Chapters

This is something that I've wondered about for ages. However I'm not alone in this predicament as the local flower seller at the end of the street has the same problem too. Sometimes we sit down drinking tea and eating fairy cakes trying to solve this problem. She usually knows why I am as being the neighbourhood idiot, I'm not hard to miss. In a similar way I always know why she is by the radiance of her smiles and the tatty buttercups and daisies she tries to fob me off with. She's there of course to make the world a prettier place with her flowers and sunshine while I'm there to reduce the universe of all possibilities into a joke of such simplicity that even my neighbour's pet gerbils laugh at me. This is fine as I was made to make people laugh. They even laugh at me walking down the street but perhaps that's got something to do with the constant stream of butterflies that flow out of my ears. However I cant always laugh back as I'm choking on my own giggles painfully.

What would be the point of enlightenment without being happy. Of course I'm not enlightened yet but I see a whole bunch of happy, smiling people holding hands when I'm out in the park. Then I realise they're all Buddhas for sure. Maybe if I laugh hard enough, I'll become one too one day. But what's the rush anyway? I think I'll take it easy and lick a few ice cream cones on the way.

The sun is shining brightly outside my shabby garret window and the rats are nibbling at my toes again. Maybe that's why I am. Bunny rabbits are chasing foxes in the street and it does my soul good to watch them play together. Elephants are riding high in the clouds juggling ping pong balls and maybe I'll ask them to stay. Crocodiles are smiling and alligators are dancing and the whole world is too surreal to be disagreable. Well it is a sunny, funny day. Perhaps that's why I am. The rivers of imagaination are flooding through my dreams again and carrying me away to the Lost Catacombs of Brickie Lane which are as real me as my wonky spectacles. From dream to dance, from luck to chance, I am. I am. I am. Are you experienced too?

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