You know the most intimate details of my life. A play by play.
5mins ago I thought I saw a piece of paper flapping in my peripheral vision. Like a fan was blowing it. I looked up expecting to see my old pictures that I drew flapping about the fan. I looked and then I remembered the pictures were taken down when I redecorated and cleaned my room and the fan wasn’t on. So I came back to my computer. It happened again but this time I didn’t look as fast as the colour was a greyish colour and looked more like a sleeve, the long flappy sleeves that clowns wear. The more olden day clowns. It happens a third time. Then never happens again. Then I thought I saw a fly, fly onto my green box but I looked and it wasn’t there.
I got the message.
The fly symbolises death since fly lay maggots when someone has died. The clown was murdered or a possible suicide. It’s like in history when I’m given sources and asked what the source is conveying through a series of pictures. The flapping of the arm was him asking for help. The fly symbolises he was dead.
I let the clown die. So I’m almost in tears over a clown who didn’t exist dying. Wow, I’ve hit rock bottom.
Now all I need is the walls to run red with blood for this nightmare to be complete.
Odd thing: I heard the buzzing of the fly but no screamings. Was his mouth taped?