Now, let’s see if I can remember any of those ancient verses, the ones I used to put a circle of protection around myself, to keep Mama’s ghost out.
Bide larma…No, that doesn’t sound right.
Bide lirma oda kaitan…Was that it? No.
How about Bidi lirma oda kaitan…? I think that’s closer to it, but how does the rest of the verse go?
The fact that I don’t have the materials to make the circle–the chalk to draw it, the ruler to draw straight lines for the pentacle, and the candles to light up–isn’t exactly helping me here.
I’ll try again: Bidi lirma ota kaitan…
Wait a minute: was that even from the right verse?
No! That was from the verses meant to send Mama to Hell and lock her up there. I’ve already done that, and she’s brought me here with her, too. By saying that verse, if I’m even saying it right, I’m only reinforcing my problem!
I need to remember the verse I used to say to create a zone of protection that she can’t enter. What I said when I went to the store to buy the amulet and sachet. What was it? She’s making me forget, that’s for sure.
Still, I have to try to remember it. It’s my only hope.
Oh, God, it’s so dark here. Endlessly black, all around me.
I can still hear the thumping of the elephants’ feet. Aunt Jane, that man, and the staff from the mental hospital are still trying to find me in this stinky rectum of a hiding place. It’s only a matter of time before they find me and take me back to the nut house.
Oh, what are those words I have to chant?
Wana…bagga…waiko? Is that how it begins?
Wana bagga waiko, Inan suchi zdago…I think.
Kala bodi gana, Sibako wuli…zulu? No, at least one or two of the words are wrong, because I don’t feel any safer. I’m still in the smelly black pit. But which words am I saying wrong?
I can’t give up. I’ve got to keep trying–not just for myself, but for the sake of the world, which I have to save from Mama’s magic! Now, what were those words?
Maybe if I try different combinations of vowels and consonants, I’ll eventually luck out and say the right combination, like monkeys typing forever and ever until they finally compose a novel. It’s a ridiculous thing to do, but I’m so desperate here, I can’t think of any other way to get the words right. Here goes:
Wana baka waigo,
Inan kushi zdega,
Kala bodi gana.
Sibako woli zulu.
No, still no circle of protection. I’m still trapped in infinite black. But I think I’m coming closer to saying the right words. As I do this, altering the words little by little, I think I’m beginning to remember them better.
But maybe I’m not. Maybe I’m wrong.
Still, I’ve got to keep trying.
Wana baka waigo,
Imam kuchi zdega
Kalu bodi gana.
Sibako woli zulu.
Still not right! Every word has to be perfect, or else I get nothing! Oh, how am I going to get this right? Still, I have to try:
Wana baka waigo,
Iman kuchi zdega
Kalu bodi gana.
Sibako woli…zulu.
Still wrong! I have a feeling that this time, I almost got it right. Still, it cannot be even the slightest bit wrong, or else this effort is all in vain. I’ll bet Mama’s ghost is tampering with my memory, making me forget a verse I had committed to memory not so long ago.
Oh, which part am I getting wrong?
This black void enveloping me, with that shitty garbage stink, is driving me crazy!
I’ve got to keep trying, though…every possible combination must be considered!
I’ve got to get protection from Mama…and fast!
AAAAAAAHHHHHHH!!!…
WabawakabaigoImankuchizdegaKalubodiganaSibakowolizuku…
WanwakabaigoImankuchizdegaKalubodiganaSibakowolizulu…
WanabakawaigoInankuchizdegaKalubodiganaSibakowolizuku…
WakabakawaigoImankuchizdegaKalubodiganaSibakowolizuku…
WadabakawaigoImankuchizdegaKalubodiganaSibakowolizulu…
WafabakawaigoImankuchizdegaKalubodiganaSibakowolizuku…
WagabakawaigoImankuchizdegaKalubodiganaSibakowolizulu…
WajabakawaigoImankuchizdegaKalubodiganaSibakowolizuku…
WalaBakawaigoImankuchizdegaKalubodiganaSibakowolizulu…
WamabakawaigoInankuchizdegaKalubodiganaSibakowolizuku…
WanabakawaigoImankuchizdegaKanubodiganaSibakowolizulu…
WapawakabaigoImankuchizdegaKalubodiganaSibakowolizuku…
WarabakawaigoImankuchizdegaKalubodigala Sibakowolizulu…
WasabakawaigoImankuchizdegaKalubodiganaSibakowolizuku…
WatabakawaigoImankuchizdegaKalubodiganaSibakowolizulu…
WavabakawaigoImankuchizdegaKalubodiganaSibakowolizuku…
WawabakawaigoImankuchizdegaKalubodiganaSibakowolizulu…
WayabakowaigoImankuchizdegaKalubodiganaSibakowolizuku…
WazabakawaigoImankuchizdegaKalubodiganaSibakowolizuzu…
WanababawaigoImankuchizdegaKalubodiganaSibakowolizuku…
WanabakawaigoImankuchizdegoKalubodiganaSibakowolizulu…
WanabalawaigoImankuchizdegaKalubodiganaSibakowolizuku…
WanabamawaigoImankuchizdegaKalubodiganaSibakowolizulu…
Oh, my God, I’m never going to get this right!
Surely, Mama’s ghost is making me mispronounce at least one word at a time, to drive me crazy!
My face is soaked in my tears. I’m shaking and sobbing so loudly, surely those elephants will hear me over their thumping feet!
What can I do to save myself from her?
Could I try finding Jesus? No, I tried that years ago. Didn’t work. There’s no Heaven to save me from this Hell.
If only I could kill myself…but that would just plunge my soul–if I even have one–straight into Hell all the more, where she could really torment me…forever.
What if I attempted…a dissolving of my ego? A transcending of my ego…ego death! The merging of my Atman, as it were, with Brahman? What if I adopted selflessness, in the Buddhist sense of the word? She cannot harm me if there’s no me to harm.
Through intense meditation, I can achieve ego death, nirvana. It’s worth a try, at least.
I’ll start by focusing on my breathing…slow, deep breaths…in…and out…I don’t need to close my eyes, because there’s nothing to see but absolute black everywhere.
Oh!…That awful smell! The shit of the asshole I’m trapped in!
No, I don’t want to inhale that so intensely. Bad idea.
I’ll have to try concentrating on something else.
The present moment, and my oneness with my surroundings.
Yes,…I must think about every second that passes by, and think about there being no distinction between myself and everything out there that isn’t me.
Oh, my mind keeps wandering. Roger, concentrate!
Mama, like Mara the tempter, is trying to thwart this Buddha.
I’m at one with everything…I’m aware of every passing second…
My body feels as if it’s beginning to dissolve, to merge with my surroundings…good…
Wait…am I dissolving, or am I…being pulled apart, in all directions?
I still can’t see anything in this black, smelly void, but it feels as though my arms are being pulled to their far left and far right, and it’s like I’m rising from the ground. All of me feels…pulled outwards, everywhere.
Is this a merging, or is it a…melting?
Maybe this is how becoming at one with everything is supposed to feel. I don’t know.
What’s that up ahead? A tiny dot of white light, gradually getting bigger. I feel as though I’m floating towards it. The light at the end of the tunnel? My salvation?
Wait a minute: instead of a growing ball of white light, I’m seeing the city I was riding that motorcycle through the streets of. I’m at the tight sphincter now, coming out like a turd squeezing through…POP!
I’m back out in the city now. Oh, thank God I don’t smell that fecal stink anymore. It’s as surreal out here as it was before: giant mushrooms for buildings, tall celery stalks for lampposts, boats on the roads instead of cars, a glowing basketball for a sun shining in a brown sky, and pedestrians with animals’ heads.
Yes, the magic of Mama’s ghost is as strong as ever.
Hey, wait! What am I riding on? This isn’t that motorbike I stole: I’m riding on a blue elephant! Other blue elephants are walking beside, in front of, and behind mine. I know what they represent: Aunt Jane, the staff of the mental hospital, and…that man.
They’re taking me back to the nut house…that prison!
I have to stop this from happening, but how?
I’ll try jumping off of this elephant…what? There’s some kind of invisible wall, or a force field of some kind, keeping me on the elephant! I can’t get away! Mama’s magic is keeping me here!
“Let me go!” I scream. “I don’t wanna go back to that horrible hospital!”
“Sorry, Roger,” I can hear Aunt Jane’s voice saying from farther off. “But we trusted you the last time, and you violated that trust. Now, I’m afraid we have no choice but to take you back there and keep you there for as long as it takes. Judging by the way you’ve been acting, I’d say you’ll probably have to stay locked up there for the rest of your life. I hate to say it, but it’s true.”
“NOOOO!!!”
“And don’t try that act of sanity again, Roger,” one of the hospital staff says. “We’re wise to your tricks now.”
Mama has won.
She has me locked away forever.
And she’ll be able to destroy the world without me able to stop her.
It was better in that giant asshole. At least I could meditate there, have a hope of dissolving my ego, and end my suffering…of course, I could meditate in the padded cell they’ll most likely incarcerate me in, wearing that straitjacket again. It will be uncomfortable, but I should be able to do it.
No, I can’t! Not with all those people there! I have to be alone. How can I dissolve my ego through meditation if I’m constantly being disturbed by shrinks and nurses determined to make me believe that that man is my father?
I really am in an eternal Hell of other people.
There is no exit for me.
Infinite Ocean 