Okay, I am down to drink some urine. How fucking boring was digging a hole? Clench fist, surround grass, rip grass out. Even my inner cavemen wondered what to make out of this kind of shit. I was the estranged cousin from Jack the Ripper, Joe the Grass-Reaver.
Clench fist, surround grass, rip grass out.
Clench fist, surround grass, rip grass out.
Clench fist, surround grass, rip grass out.
Okay, I was tired of this shit; anyone got a shovel? An excavator or a shit-ton of explosives would also do. Even the old-fashioned way of hiring cheap foreign workers to do your work for you was an option for me.
Alas, that option was also impossible under these otherworldy conditions.
Furthermore, I could also forget about child labour, slavery had also long been abolished, and there were no animals that could dig for me. To sum it up, I was fucked and had to do it myself.
Clench fist, surround grass, rip grass out.
Clench fist, surround grass, rip grass out.
Clench fist, surround grass, rip grass out.
Slowly but surely, I began to hate the colour green and all that it stood for. A hatred so deep, I would go full-on Karen, whenever I was to meet its manager. A strongly worded letter would not be enough to describe how deep this rage ran inside of me.
Every single blade of grass had to be eradicated. Until the world had been purged of its green lustre. Until the colour itself was no more. Until it was nothing more than a figment in the annals of history. Only then would I piss on its rotting metaphorical carcass... okay, this might have sounded a tad too edgy.
What I was trying to say here; just ripping out grass had been less than thrilling. My third self finding enjoyment in stuff like this made me worry for his sanity.
We were both the same; yet how could he be so different? With each new iteration, the new Joe seemed to lose even more of my precious brain cells.
I was evolving─just backwards.
Someday a full-blown ape might walk out of there. Most likely it would be the only one to succeed in this "test" or whatever it was.
I should have paid more attention to what the blind old fogey said, but you know me... I did not function like that. In my brain, it sounded more like this...
"Blah Blah, you died stupidly... Blah Blah Blah Blah, you should feel bad... Blah Blah Blah." It was not like he said anything relevant either way, right? If it was soooo important, he would have moved his ass here by now and explained it a second time.
Since I was practically immortal, he had all the time in the world to do so. Even the sheer anticipation could not 'kill' me. Sadly, dying from sheer boredom was also not an option.
Though my allergy to death was not exactly helpful here. My current task was a very clear case of "figure that shit" out by yourself.
Though it remained a mystery to me, why they are producing copy after copy from me.
Best of luck to anyone trying to find a sane version of myself. I was more than certain; it would take a really long time to find the one, who was not crazy in some way or form.
I have seen the strange shit that three of us pull, tell me, what kind of chaos would there be with 10? 20? 100? 1000? I did not even dare to think what kind of horrible things a horde of different Joe Does' would do to this beautiful landscape.
Especially if they are not as sensible and intelligent as me. It would not fare well if they only get my "bad" traits. Bad in quotation marks here, because I was perfect the way I was.
Nobody could disagree with that sentiment. This might be partly true due to me being the only person present, but it still stood true.
Even a flawless being, such as I, could get tired of ripping out grass and other menial tasks. Or in less flowery language.... Shoot me I do not want to do this anymore. I was not a toddler that could dig for hours on end in a sandpit.
My hands were getting dirty and it felt like hygiene had cut all ties with me. It could not forgive me for what I had done to my poor hands. No one knew where my hand began and where the soil ended.
I was one with the dirt.
The constant zeroes from the "workout" notifications were also not making it easier to endure this hellish boredom. I could not even beat my meat with my hands so full of germs and other otherworldly fun stuff.
I did not want these things one bit near my most precious possession. Who knew whether or not it would mutate into another copy of me if given the chance? No, that must never happen.
There was only one way out of this scenario; locate the water source and get these hands as clean as a kid eating tide pods─after their stomach had been pumped out.
Motivated like never before my hands ran through the soil without as much as a break. With nothing but cool water in mind, I tore through everything in my way. My third self would be proud of me.
The soil was nothing more than dirt in my eyes, partly because I accidentally rubbed my eyes while digging.
I rate the experience 4/10 on a scale of "God, why must I suffer". The theme was very fitting to the surroundings, but it was lacking that oomph to blow me away. So, as much as it pains me, I could not rate it any higher.
Keeping my brain as empty as humanly possible was my plan to get through with this rather strange activity. However, there was no end to the dirt in front of me. Whenever I got rid of one handful, a thousand more would await me.
There were no words in the world capable of describing how mind-numbingly dumb I felt using my fists to burrow into the earth like a bootleg version of a mole.
That did not mean I would not try to put it into words though.
My brain was now a graveyard of dead brain matter, for the rest of my pitiful existence, I would sink to the bottom of a deep, dark sea and just consume the remnants of my brain before I eventually perish.
In those last days in my sea grave, I would look back at these days and smile. I would smile because dying down there all alone, with nothing to do, was still far more intellectually challenging than digging this motherfucking hole.
This great digging "fun" offered me a very pleasant experience; as pleasant as ramming a nail through your own ballsack would sound to the average person.
My body, my face, my wiener everything was full of dirt. The air smelled like dirt, I smelled like dirt, my wiener smelled like sunshine and flowers... and dirt. Regardless of where I looked all I saw was dirt.
And it even tasted like dirt. Why exactly I chose to swallow a handful of the earth was not something I could explain. My brain just felt like it had to complete the chain of dirt descriptions.
Though I gotta say my stomach was far less upset than I had imagined it to be. The strange dirt "meal" kind of made me want to eat more of it. So why not? What was the worst that could happen?
But god damn son, this dirt tasted better with each passing second. Who needs to dig when you just can eat yourself directly to the water source? I was elated that my stomach was finally getting something.
It had absolutely no right to be this delicious. To me, my surroundings were an all-you-can-eat buffet and I was starving. I was like the embodiment of gluttony as I wolfed down everything that came into my mouth.
The saliva production was at an all-time high and every cell of my body seemingly screamed for me to eat more. I stopped chewing and just swallowed as much as I could.
For a hot second, I thought that this kind of fringe eating could not be healthy. But listening to a gut feeling was not something we do here. We only followed our stomachs. Its first decree was to eat mooooore.
Somehow it felt like I was dining on the finest, tender chicken meat. A most scrumptious feast, something that the afterlife had never seen before.
I was even ramming my head directly into the soil just so I could eat even faster. Deep down I knew, the one to suffer the most would be my bowels. Because, in my asshole, the mother of all shits would soon be ready...
Though I would leave that problem to the future me, my current self was all too busy enjoying the present.
Whoever decided to let dirt be this tasty, I was highly concerned about your mental well-being, but thank you regardless.
The sensation of eating so much did not cause me any discomfort, far from it, I felt the best I had ever been. This entire body was bursting with energy, much like after drinking 2 litres of energy drink. No, much like I was a walking energy drink.
I was like a toddler on speed. Nothing in this realm could even hope of stopping me. Death held no meaning to me. Okay, why did it seem like I swallowed a whole bucket of potent drugs?
Having such a positive outlook on life and the afterlife was more than weird to me. I did not like feeling that way. The pit of self-loathing was way more comfortable─just as it ought to.
However, I did not think much about the stimulating side-effect of eating the soil, since that would distract me from consuming the dirt. I, being a man of sheer commitment, would not be stopped by such trivial matters.
Soon my muscles started to bulge to their absolute limit. Apparently, the earth also contained more than a few steroids as well. Although I still did not care, since that would stop me from, you guessed it, eating.
I could stop any time I wanted to. My level of restraint was without equal. Just a bit more and I would be finished, I really promise. After all, what could possibly go wrong here?
Mind over matter. I shall not falter in front of sweet temptations made by the dirt devil himself. His promises shall not be my undoing.
The pressure my body was under kept on increasing as more and more dirt mysteriously found its way into my stomach.
I was a ticking time bomb; ready to blow up.
But one more bite...
And then I exploded; making my own colourful organ confetti.
Welcome, dear after-after-after-afterlife.