Disgustipated de Tool

It was daylight when you woke up in your ditch. You looked up at your sky. That made blue be your
color. You had your knife there with you, too. When you stood up, there was goo all over your
clothes. Your hands were sticky. You wiped them on your grass, so now your color was green. Oh,
lord, why did everything have to keep changing like this. You were already getting nervous again. Your
head hurt, and it rang when you stood up. Your head was amost empty. It always hurt you when you
woke up like this. You crawled up out of your ditch, onto your gravel road, and you began to walk,
waiting for the rest of your mind to come back to you. You could see the car parked far down the
road, and you walked toward it. If god is our father, you thought, then Satan must be our cousin. Why
didn't anyone else understand these important things. When you got to your car, you tried all the doors.
They were locked. It was a red car, and it was new. There was an expensive leather camera case
laying on the seat.
Out across your field you could see two tiny people walking by your woods. You
began to walk towards them. Now red was your color. And of course, those little people out there
were yours, too.