When Frankie drew a picture of a little red

  • When Frankie drew a picture of a little red train, and said when he grew up, he wanted to be an engineer who drove trains backwards, his mother smiled but inwardly rolled her eyes

  • and whispered under her breath, "train engineers are so creepy." She said to her son, "Frankie, why don't you draw a picture of a man building a hospital? That would make mommy

  • a fortune on the black market." Frankie sighed and did as he was told, taking out a new sheet of parchment paper and his favorite red, blue and burnt-sienna crayons, then began to

  • scribble furiously. Frankie's crayons danced across the parchment with exquisite choreography, filling the scroll with a passionate whirlwind of reds and blues.

  • The blue and red form a sunset purple, appealing to the eye of Frankie. The colors across the paper move and come alive, as Frankie's drugs kick into action.

  • Frankie's drugs appear to his 13th eye as popinjays on parade in the Punjab Punani Puce Pavillion pteeming with pterns, ptzars, and other pittance products. "Red & blue pills", he

  • chortled at the over-used meme and oft misunderstood Matrix quote that apparently never existed. "Right," Frankie thought. "So explain the collective unconscious memory of red&blue

  • being primary colours, when in fact, colour itself is a myth." Frankie was going to walk away, only, reminded of colour's non-existence, couldn't see the way out.

  • Then Frankie remembers what that asshole told him that time when he was "looking for something" in the porta-potty, "The way out is now the way In." "Far Out", Frankie had answered

  • . The asshole belched his fart like breath at me, surprised that I was going that Far Out but nodded that, "yes, the further you go Out the further you need to go Far In. Epiphany.



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