“This essay is a denunciation of consensus reality and it’s liberation into ineffable interminable tracts of dubious coherence, interspersed with the psychosis driven ramblings, organic & pharmaceutical, of published authors better & wiser than myself.”
This is the opening sentence offered to me by pseudo/psychonym Doctor Gordon Von Tripp™.
Jean Dark’s introduction would have begun “In the beginning was the dole queue and then came the drugs…In 1990 under the cover of my birth name and a fortnightly stipend from The Enterprise Allowance Scheme I began my career as a professional writer.”
While another pseudo/psychonym, who I am not yet prepared to divulge would have painted a placard and joined a counter-demonstration, in her head at least.
Had I consulted Bella Basura, she would have screamed “BOLLOX” and run away. Although she would eventually have continued the paragraph on from Doc. Gordon’s sentence in neat double-spaced Times New Roman laserjet: “…Reality would have become a well of excrement. A deep profound descent into the dark hidden underground streams via the encrusted pipes of the sewers. Shit begets shit, from Basura to Tripp, from psychonym to a fictionalised character editing his own dialogue. Who am I? Who cares? In the minds of Dark all realities are equal, all fictions are facets of the one wyrd & webbed multi-verse. HA! And again! Reality speaks not in straight lines, but in swirls & swoops, elipses and retracings. Things that sound different but are really the same”