Ever since I met Enrique, weird coincidences
have been come to light, but about a year ago, it started to become freakier and freakier, and this year it has been getting freakier, yet. Today, a new milestone in freakishness has been set.
Some months ago, Enrique started having visions/hallucinations/whatever � he started seeing things.
One of the things he saw, was a big black guy, making frog-jumps (yes, this writing is going to be silly: be prepared). I didn�t think too much of it, other than � of course � the fact one is not supposed to see such a thing (unless there�s actually a big black man, making frog jumps).
When confronting our shared friend Jaron with this, he joked that this person was ook
: one of many character concepts we had came up with about a decade earlier. (Neither one of us new Enrique then.) Jaron always jokes about things like that.
Enrique started seeing this man
more frequently, and started describing him to me, bit by bit: very tall (about 7?2?); very muscular; bald; wearing a jersey with 22
on the chest� Wait. What the fuck? That is exactly what my very first character concept, Flash Bizar
looks like. I repeat; exactly.
Several weeks go by, and Enrique mentions very little of him. Then, weeks later, in shock, he tells me of his latest sighting; another big black man � but green. I fall to the floor, laugh my ass off, tell Enrique he�s really gone mental, but don�t think more of it.
The following days (or weeks), he mentions the green guy a few more times � and then it hit me � I fall the floor and start screaming. He had seen Cornelius
. My eyes become wet with anxiety, and I explain he has just seen another one of our concepts. He goes bezerk.
At this time, I started to seriously wonder if he and Jaron weren�t playing games with me. Both assured me they were just as shocked as I was. Well, Enrique did. Jaron seems to think this all makes sense. He says that if there is one person that should see our concept characters in his halicionations, it should be Enrique. I guess he�s got a point there.
But the fun didn�t stop here. Oh no. Oooooh no.
I purposely never mentioned the other key characters from the conceptual world Jaron and I had created many years ago. Just to see if Enrique would eventually mention a new sighting, and by that decreasing the likelyhood of it being another exact match. I mean, this thing has to be coincidental, right? Right?
Today, we meet again. On the basketball court, again. He has seen things,
again. He describes � again.
He describes a guy with an enormous head. He tells me the thing is rediculous it�s so big. Like, the width of the backboard,
he adds. Thrown off by utter disbelief, I ask him whether this guy was black too. (After all, the other guys he has seen were, and this one shouldn�t � if he plans to continue describing another one of our characters, again.) No, this one was white,
he explains. �and he was bigger,
he continues. Why? No�
I drop myself to the ground again, and the only thing I hear is Enrique screaming: Nooooo!
He had seen Ben Franklin Cow.
That same afternoon � after having pushed away the thought of what had happend before because it�s, well, too much � he tells me a female friend of ours had come to visit him on the basketball court, and describes she was wearing a nice shirt: bordeaux-red.
That is funny,
I reply, I thought about her, and the color combination black, gold, and bordeaux-red, yesterday. Weird.
Enrique�s jaw drops some inches. What color do you think her skirt was?
I dunno. Black?
Yeah, and what kind of purse do you think she was carrying?
I� I� Heh. I dunno, a g�
Yeah, a gold one, yeah!
In an attempt to run away from yet another thing that I wasn�t able to process, I pick up one of the balls that was laying around, and run a lay-up. Enrique keeps shouting at me: At what time was this?
I respond with I dunno!
a few times untill I finally bring up the strength and hesitantly reply; five?
Aaaaah! No! No! Why?
is what I hear before seeing Enrique drop to the floor again. I decide to do the same thing. We decide to stay down there for a while, hiding from the mean big world.
At night � after having experienced a pretty normal
day, from that point on, and while writing this very entry � I decide I need to vent. I decide to tell my mother of who I knew she wouldn�t believe this shit if she wanted to.
I start with the tiny little detail about the clothes on our female friend, but then I break loose and tell the whole story: the conceptual characters Enrique has seen, the numbers, etc. Affraid of � I dunno � getting locked up in a white room, I guess, I head back to my room, and continue to write it off of me � here.
Minutes later, my mom joins me, and questions me about all this stuff. I tell her passionately about ook
(I�ll dedicate a page about him on this site, eventually), and the number 22. As I point out to her the many occurences of the number 22, including the day of the recent death of her mother (and the fact that the monitor next to me read 22
at the very moment she passed away � something I had not revieled to my mom untill that moment), the light in my room blinks. Twice. I make a joke about it, saying well, that is convenient.
I pauze. The light stays. I then proceed to tell her my stories passionately, and the light starts blinking � and it doesn�t stop. The light is flickering as if its about to fail. I think my mom stopped having a jolly good time here, because she left the room. The light�s been absolutely ok since.
ACJ1 comments so far.
hi i think iit rediculs too my brothers get so caught up in the dunb game i dont know why it sucks
Posted by: amanda on May 15, 2006, at 20:04
