Dean stood on soil dark as ink, matching the color of the jet black sky. This was a land locked in eternal twilight, a place where the sun never pierced the veil of night, and debauchery could run rampant for all hours of the day.
Directly before him, an archway rose from the earth, splintered wood revealing signs of its disrepair jutting out from the joints. Draped across the arch was a ragged banner, etched with bold letters scribbled onto a material that looked older than time.
Rag-A-Thon
They were scrawled in uneven, messy, handwriting, with smudged ink that conveyed a wild feeling. The slapdash nature of the banner held promise of what was yet to come.
Out of instinct, he glanced back, only to be greeted by an absolute absence of space- it was beyond mere blackness, his senses refused to acknowledge the area. The ground faded into nothing except foggy dark, and it seemed that outside of the bounds of the arch, nothing existed.
He shuddered at the feeling, but, turning again to face the arch, although he had already experienced many miraculous things, he was still shocked at the scale of the festivities.
On the other side of the arch stretched a carnival of staggering proportions, vast and electric, that seemed to defy any earthly bounds. Alighting his senses upon the tents, there was a faint jubilation that seemed to arc through the air, and he felt as if the ground itself was dancing. Reds and yellows blazed through the veil of dim twilight, their neon glow illuminating every figure that walked within in whimsical light. Hanging from clotheslines above the carnival were lanterns, they swung from poles, shaking at the sheer volume of the high-tempo rhythm roaring through the carnival grounds.
Around him were wooden stalls, flickering with lights and filled with bizarre trinkets and dizzying games. Little men lined up in droves, chittering incomprehensible speak with overpowering jubilation.
There was an odd way about them - they looked more mechanical than human, with pointed ears.
"Step right up, step right up, and test your luck! Try your fortune, test your fate!" A particularly magnetic figure drew the tiny men in droves, pulling them closer to observe his wares.
In his hands, he held a silver tray with orbs of candy that rolled around like pinballs, flashing in mesmerizing colors that caught Dean's eye. He came closer to get a better look.
The little men began grabbing the candy off the plate, immediately popping it into their mouths. Dean observed one of them holding it to the light, as if conducting a religious rite, before throwing it into his mouth with gusto.
Almost immediately, the effects began to show.
One of them lit-up like Christmas lights, skin glowing with fluorescent heat that burst out in multicolored rays. The others looked on in awe - he supposed this is what passed for 'lucky'.
The religious one chewed carefully, and the others watched on in amazement as his body began expanding, his limbs stretching, although they didn't thicken, until he towered over his companions.
He looked over at them with an expression of grandeur and arrogance, as if tasting power for the first time.
He raised his arms in indulgent satisfaction and spoke to the crowd of little men in a voice like thunder.
"Behold!"
Cheers sprang throughout the crowd, some of them kneeling in reverence.
Dean laughed at the scene, taken in by the exhilarating atmosphere of the realm. He drew closer to the heart of the carnival, looking every which way at the attractions and splendors.
To his left, a grand Ferris wheel loomed, with carriages painted in all sorts of different colors, rising so high that they disappeared into the foggy dusk.
To his right, fire breathers exhaled streams of rang flames into the sky that transformed into multifarious shapes, taking the form of animals.
He was amazed. The exhilaration he felt from merely walking along the stalls, from passively being around such vibrant energy, filled him with a joy for the life he hadn't once known. And so, for the first time since he had arrived in the psychedelic realm, his mind began to wander home.
He thought back to days when he would walk around lethargically, entirely focused on his phone. He thought back to the unfulfilling work that he did, the unfulfilling environments he placed himself in, and the lack of joy in his life. He wondered how things had gotten to that point, where he was remiss in seeking out the things that he desired.
Now, he felt entirely disconnected from the him of the past. Could that really…. have been the same person?
Such is human nature. Humans are born into this world with only one thing; unbridled desire. The measure of the man is determined by his capacity to hold fast to this thing like a plank of wood amidst a tumultuous storm. The mundane forces of the world conspire to bend us to their will, forcing us to cast these things aside. Once one begins to feel that things are pointless, they give up hope and focus their efforts on surviving. If that individual somehow manages to gain hope again, they feel as if anything is possible. After all, our problems define us. If our problems change, can we be described as the same person?
Interrupting his thought pattern, a piercing new tune cut through the usual blare of carnival music. It was wild and primal, with heavy drums and brass and a pulsing rhythm.
Spotlights flared to life, slicing through the foggy black with scintillating colors of every wavelength, converging above the main tent.
Its canvas structure seemed to come alive, rippling in an inviting motion. The little men burst into a frenzy.
"Heyoka's playing!"
Someone shouted, and at once, a mass of little men broke into a run, charging toward the tent in a wave of bodies. Swept up by the tide, Dean felt himself carried along, unable to resist the momentum.
"Come on, Heyoka's playing!" one of them cried, beady eyes wide with excitement as he grabbed Dean's arm, pulling him further into the mass. They jostled him forward, but by now he was moving ahead of his own accord, anxious to see what the hubbub was about. He was, after all, on a mission.
At least, he wished he could say that's where his focus was. As he was rushed towards the main tent, only one thought echoed in his head.
'Heyoka's playing!'
Curiosity and excitement blended in a wave of passion, pressurized by the increasingly loud music. The main tent loomed before them now, a gaudy construction of red and white stripes stretching in all directions.