32. lost in a hundred types of haze

little bear found a thread of interesting reading in the local street press. he would lead the high life and break the mold on his cuddly sweet vibe.



outside the house it seemed cold and grey and that sign said it was actually freezing and not just in his mind.



on the verge of going home he saw the signs to greatness - international higlife. it was finally coming out of the television dreamland and into his event horizon.




come inside the warm trays it called to him. revolve with us in eternal happiness.




he was getting scared. this looked like one of those on of those get smart scenarios gone wrong.





some colour finally appeared and his laughter levels began to rise on. realising that he had indeed stumbled inside the wavefront into the surging wake of a churning swell he looked for the comforts of home.




but where was he from? certainly not from this land of hard edges and sticky hair?





the mystery remains a mystery in the land where things are not allowed/the mystique shattered, everyday events creep into the romance and eat the badness of it/industry drives forward on a tractor into the mind.




stay calm he says. look to the floor for patterns. folllow the tube men to safety.