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    MICHAEL ALLEN

    projectionist

    In a dream, he was completely engulfed in 'pinkness'...

    -Not the same color pink that you would imagine as a piece of pink chewing gum, or a beautiful

    pink flower, or beneath the whiteness of fare skin...

    -Not the same pink that adorns flamingos, cotton candy, and baby girls rooms...

    -Not even the pink that surrounded his head when he thought "Pink." in his first Eyeonasphere

    experiment...

    The pink Nolan was engulfed in was not of this world.

    It had an 'unnatural' quality - like it was dyed that color - like it hadn't always been that way...

    -Bright and bold - pinkness wrapped around Nolan Void like thousands and thousands of 7 foot

    earthworms...

    It writhed around him, intertwining and squirming in and out of itself...

    Everywhere...

    Nolan was naked and the color 'pink' was squirming over every square inch of his body.

    It wrapped all around him - slithering like snakes - and yet, comforting...

    -And Nolan felt absolutely no claustrophobic feelings or anxiety - just sheer comfort and

    contentment...

    He was completely coated in it - the wormy pinkness pressed on every square inch of Nolan's

    nakedness like a body of water around a bather...

    It was wrapped around his face - in his eyes, nose, and mouth, and invading his every orifice...

    -And yet, he didn't feel the slightest bit afraid or uncomfortable...

    He felt wonder and amusement.

    He felt it supporting his body, suspended over his bed...

    Then, he realized that it wasn't worms or snakes at all - it was pasta!

    ... Bright pink, angel hair pasta...

    And it really was EVERYWHERE...

    Holding him...

    Engulfing him...

    Carrying him away high up in the sky...

    As he raised higher and higher above his bed, through his ceiling and into the clouds - his sense

    of fulfillment grew stronger.

    Through the clustered pink pasta that was wrapped all around him - he could see the ground

    beneath him getting further and further away...

    Above the clouds and into the outer reaches of our atmosphere - it carried him peacefully

    upward...

    Through the stratosphere, past the ionosphere, and out into outerspace...

    In his dream, Nolan Void graciously soured through the cosmos on a craft of writhing pink pasta.

    -Past the planets, and past the sun, and to a place in the Universe where our galaxy is just a tiny

    white spot...

    And then he just kept on flying...

    Floating and floating - beyond the explored measures of space and out into the unknown...

    -Into eternity, where all there is is nothingness.

    And that nothingness was him...

    Looking at the Universe, he saw himself...

    Everywhere - everything was him - and it was all NOTHING.

    And it hurt.

    Everything around him - all that exists - is NOTHING...

    - Nolan IS THE VOID..