The Book of All Things New

Even Zebulon did not know. The Shaky Hand Man was an emination of my mind, my soul, my dreams. Even I was not completely aware of it. But it was always me. I would explain things to you and tell you of my beginnings, but I do not feel like it. Perhaps sometimes yet to come, after we have grown accustomed to each other I will........Oh, you know, I think the whale does surface and breathe, however the salve encasing me protects my body from the light. Do I see it? Do I experience it? No, I do not. Maybe I drag a thick, gray, bone chilling damp coffin lid of weeping clouds with me. Maybe that is it. Or maybe, something else........I like whale blood. I like whale-life. The creature is quite safe. I could never take it all. The taste is so rich and thick and complex. Think about it, an 'animal' that goes everywhere. It has a sense of our planet as a planet. a finite orb, a tear drop poised in space. My friend, my companion, my traveling partner. This one is in the family way. I can hear the new one deep inside. It's a 'little' blue-ling, the spawn of giants and a future prince of the ocean sea. I talk to it when the mother lets me, when her own voice grows still. She is pensive and contemplative, for she nears the end of her life. This calf will be her last. She has passed three hundred and fifty years  now and by all accounts will die sometime 'round her four hundredth year. Long by your standards, but short by mine........... I 'saw' a figure. A man, I think it was, walking along the abyssmal plain at the bottom of the sea. True, there was a complete abscence of light, but if the whale detected him, ( their echo power, I suppose) I detected him. An image formed in my mind and it was very much like sight. He shuffled along, never looking to the left and never looking to the right. We swam by him, but he never once acknowledged our presence. Yet even in the darkness, he must have felt the eddy as we passed. But then I knew why. For he did not have a face. The front half of his skull, including the lower mandible, was hacked away, probably by the massive beak of a giant squid. A shredded clump of bloodless scraps bounced up and down as he progressed. He wore some sort of contemporary tunic. I belive they call it a t-shirt. The words 'Maroon Five' were inscribed accross the chest. I do not know what that means. And I do not understand how the whale's echo vision could have accomplished such a thing. His pants were quite ordinary, similar to the loosely tailored garments worn by peasants and rustics during the time before my abduction. And I noticed that the flesh on his hands and feet had been completely gnawed away. Then we moved on and abandoned him to the inky darkness. One encounters such things from time to time. Humans generally discredit such tales. Think of Roswell, Area 51 and Sleepy Hollow. You know what I mean. But pay attention. Open your eyes. Throw away the blinders. You just may learn a lot. Be patient. Wait till I 'dissembark.'.  And if you won't admit the truth of such things, know this... If you 'can't' see me.....I can still see you......