Last year when I traveled to Muuyaox Prime Two I had a major revelation. I’ll tell you about it soon but first I must set the scene. IMAGINE THIS:

ME. Muuyaox Prime Two. And a pool of its residents, the Clomblams. They were everywhere. I had no particular fear of these fucking things but enough of them skittering around my feet and zapetroidal dorsal mandibles had me constantly deciding to diagnose a new phobia. Their clicking chatter pressed into my ears and right about then is when I regretted coming here.

Why was I here? Some spiritual retreat pretense. I just wanted to get out for awhile, get away from work for a bit and the weird dynamics that came up in the last two months. I managed to get some time off so I jumped into my Hardtram Marara and blasted into the stars. Destination Muuyaox Prime Two. Good vacation spot in the right season. In the wrong season you just get sucked into the Clomblams' addicting world. Don’t tell anyone, but that’s what I was here for. I’d read about them and there’s a part of me that wanted to hear what they had to say despite the risk. Clomblams spew the truth at you, or so I’d heard. Nowadays nobody knows what the truth is so it doesn’t matter anyway.

So that’s the scene. Not the best scene but I don’t have a lot of time okay? I’m not a writer. There was a new intern at work. Aradrey, pronounced “Era” for some fucking reason, and she was this short spritely creature who rarely talked and rarely walked. Just sat at her desk and did her work. Sometimes I caught her in the break room and her form-fitting suits always fit her form in a form-fitting way that made me think form-fitting suits would eventually kill me. She sometimes glanced up and smiled shyly and since I am also a shy piece of shit I just grin back and end the stalemate right there because I don’t know man, I don’t know what else to do okay? Blame my dad. I’m not sure how this behavior started but it pretty much defines my interaction with anyone who isn’t me so before I got fired for being a creepy fuck I took a leave of absence under the pretense of attending a spiritual retreat but the real reason was I wanted to find these Clomblams and hear their take on what was wrong with me. That was a long sentence. This is getting out of control.

Some Clomblams perched on my shoulder and muttered their observations into my stretched ears, like mini-devils cajoling me into committing AN ACT.

I had a bit of anxiety over so many of these fucking critters scrawling around my person and this anxiety got worse until I puked out everything I’d eaten in the last twenty years. Didn’t feel any better because it’s anxiety, you loser. So I just spun into that comfortable self-eating spiral that makes me wonder if insanity was in my family after all and I’d just been dealt the royal flush of madness.