My Own TV Show

In my research done rummaging through the nearest town, which honest-to-goodness has no name (giving me more sane points), I came upon a library filled with newspapers from days long gone and discovered that somewhere in the vicinity of North Eastern Oklahoma lies a villiage so small that most of the state don't even know it's even here. The townsfolk are no sight for sore eyes, having not been around civilization in I don't know how long. I spent two days reading through the archives, uncovering strange histories, perplexing facts, and a horde of unexplained brushfires. Oh, and the shack? Condemned. Maybe this was a bad idea, coming into town to look around and risking being seen returning to my home. I have to be very careful about who I talk to around here. I don't know if I want to be making any friends, at least not until I get a good look at this society I've jolted into. I've been lucky enough to go on my nightly scrounges for food without getting caught. Maybe they don't care, or perhaps they think it's critters. Perhaps I am a critter. The near month's worth of research is showing these people to be harmless on the outside, completely unknown on the inside. Another few trips into town for observation should be enough for me to bundle up the courage to talk to someone before someone talks to me.

I stepped outside into the harsh morning rays and saw flowers when I should have been looking at Desert Wasteland, USA. Stumbling around the pollen-infested shorelines of my walkway, a spider plunged its adorable spidery teeth into my big toe. What vigor the poor thing had. What spunk! One thing I know is my feet are hardened warriors of the great rocky earth, that's no fabrication, I know, because the proof is literally under my nose. Do you need more? More is that the little guy failed to penetrate my skin. More is the lack of feeling in the nerve endings at the proud heart of those blackened pads. Back into the mill now, and check the windows. They aren't real. THEY AREN'T REAL. Uncertainty pressed my heart fiercely to the ground and it beat so hard I thought uncertainty was playing basketball. I tore the photos of cracked landscapes revealing that there is only almost no window which is to say it is caked over so severely it almost looked like the filthy wood surrounding the frame. I looked around, forgetting the memories, ignoring the future, seeing how much work I have to do to make this place as home as home can get for someone with nothing.